Deacon Pete's Sermon Christmas day 2013

You know that we have a barn full of animals at our home in Lockport. That means that most days I have two hours in the car to think, talk to myself and listen to music.  Frequently I use that time to work on sermons in my head. When I eventually have a thought worth working with, I use my phone to record the words.  Then I write a very rough draft and at that point I might discuss it with Cathy, to see if I'm going in the right direction, to get some help with words or just to see if it works at all

So, she had no idea when she was writing her last two sermons that I had been playing with the idea of using a Christmas song as the skeleton for this sermon.  And, I didn't tell her.   Since  her last two sermons quoted songs, I felt that I should go back to the drawing board, that you might be all "musiced" out.

It got me thinking.  How is it that we both thought of referencing Christmas songs?  We are very different people, and we have entirely different processes that we use to write sermons, why did we  both end up thinking "music".  Then I realized, we are inundated with Christmas songs on the radio and in television commercials beginning in November.  As a culture we have listened to and sung these songs for generations, in school recitals, at parties, while caroling, and in church.  One of our local stations has been playing Christmas music non stop since some time in November.   Really, it's a miracle people ever preach on anything else!

Isn't it amazing that the birth of a baby, a baby that looked like any other, that cried like any other, that learned to walk and talk and read and argue like any other should spawn such a musical outpouring?   The radio station that plays non stop Christmas music relies on advertisers to stay in business.  So, this music, it's profitable, people like it, it pays to repeat these mostly old songs over and over.

I performed an informal audit of the songs I heard while driving.  One in 5 were outright religious, Silent Night,  O Holy Night, Hark the Herald Angels Sing, Noel, O Little Town of Bethlehem to name a few.  Imagine, in this day and age, a time of unrivaled consumerism and folks identifying as spiritual but not religious, in a country that is increasingly non Christian in orientation,  it is still profitable to play Christmas music.

Why is that?  What is it about this story that never wears out, this story that happens to ordinary people, a pregnant teenager and her loyal fiancée', who didn't desert her even though the baby isn't his?  We go to Bethlehem, all of us.  And we encounter a beautifully human story of a man and a woman, of her giving birth to a baby that she lays in a manger.  We see the star, see and hear a sky full of angels, smell the animals and the hay in the stable, probably smell the shepherds.  And beneath it all is the real story, the incarnation, the word made flesh, the stunning and unbelievable truth that God loves us so much, longs to understand us so much, wants so much to be in relationship with us that God came into this world as a tiny, helpless infant.

How can this be?  How can we be sure?  Well, we go to Bethlehem and see.  We see millions of lives made whole, we see prisoners visited, the sick healed, the naked clothed, the homeless sheltered  and the hungry fed.  Christ is born whenever love for one another  is demonstrated by ordinary people.  The child in Bethlehem is born whenever we put on Christ and remember that we are the eyes, the ears, the arms and the feet that God uses to bring "good news" to the world.

Marian Wright Edelman tells the story of a Christmas Pageant  a few years ago at Riverside Church in New York City.  The part of the innkeeper that night was played by a young man with Down Syndrome named Tim. He had practiced and perfected his one line "there's no room in the inn".  The big moment arrives, Tim stands in front of the congregation as Mary and Joseph slowly make their way down the  center  aisle.  They approach Tim and as the congregation leans forward, almost  willing him to remember his line, he delivers it perfectly.  "There's no room in the inn" he booms.  Mary and Joseph slump and turn away to resume their travels. Tim suddenly yells "wait!".  They turn back and look at him in surprise.  "You can stay at my house" he calls.  

And that's what today is all about.  Today is an occasion, an invitation, an opportunity to invite Jesus into our home, into our lives, into our hearts.  This baby, who grows to an adolescent that debates with scholars in the temple, this baby who is baptized by the wild and wooly John the Baptist, this baby who walks the country side for three years teaching and healing, who consorts with folks the world would rather not have exit, this baby who defeats death for us,  this baby needs and wants to find a home within us.

So, our presents are opened, dinner is in the oven, and we listen to the Carols one last time.  Let us pray to give Jesus shelter,  to find within ourselves something  stronger and braver, gladder and kinder and holier than we ever knew before or than we could have known without him.   Amen.

  See Marian Wright Edelman, "For Many Americans, Still No Room In the Inn."

  John M. Buchanan, "Christmas Eve 2001", sermon preached at Fourth Presbyterian Church of Chicago, December 24, 2001.

Christmas Eve 2013 "Do You?"

Christmas is full of great songs, with wonderful imagery of sleighs and reindeer, trees and gifts, donkeys, cows and sheep surrounding a makeshift crib in the most unlikely of circumstances. One of my recent favorites is
 Do You Hear What I Hear.
I heard it again for the first time not too long ago. I really listened and thought, THIS is a Christmas Sermon.

Said the night wind to the little lamb,

Do you see what I see

Way up in the sky, little lamb,
Do you see what I see
A star, a star, dancing in the night
With a tail as big as a kite
With a tail as big as a kite

Have you ever heard the night wind? the whistling night wind can send a shiver through you: what's out there? Who's out there? Am I safe?
Once God came to be one of us as Jesus of Nazreth, once we trusted that a God was here because of love, nothing else, simply and profoundly and fully of LOVE, the night wind takes on a new tone-- a tone of endless and utter protection, as the night wind whistles through the window psne-- we stir from our sleep and then settle back in because we know we are safe, the night wind carries that wondrous star of hope to deliver us from loneliness, worry and fear. It protects us from doubt and hate and darkness.
Said the night wind to the little lamb. Do you see what I see? It's Emmanuel--- it's God, who's with us forevermore.

Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy,
Do you hear what I hear
Ringing through the sky, shepherd boy,
Do you hear what I hear
A song, a song, high above the trees
With a voice as big as the sea
With a voice as big as the sea

do you hear what I hear?
It's ringing through the sky, a choir of angels singing at the top of their lungs--- and let me tell you, angels can be loud!!!-they're  singing, Glory to God in the highest heaven and peace to all the earth!
They're saying, look ! Look right under that star with a tail as big as a kite, in that crib lined with hay--- it's a beautiful beautiful boy, Mary and Joseph's boy. God in the flesh, as innocent as a child as powerful as God. A regular boy kissed by God and sent to us. All of us, each of us, any of us who are ready to welcome him--- the Prince of Peace-- into our hearts. He has come for us. For you. For me. A man, a God,  savior. Jesus Christ.


Said the shepherd boy to the mighty king,
Do you know what I know
In your palace warm, mighty king,
Do you know what I know
A Child, a Child shivers in the cold
Let us bring Him silver and gold
Let us bring Him silver and gold

The shepherds saw it with their own eyes, the animals in the stable, breathing the breath of holy warmth on this child who is destined to be a completely new kind of King. A boy who will grow into a man like no other, a man who will reach out to the outcast, the hated and the despised. A God who will know us—completely and utterly and thoroughly---and a God who Loves us—comlpletely and utterly and thoroughly. A man who is a God and who love us beyond all measure.
A gift of God, given to us from God. Given for you. And given for me.

Can you feel it? Can you hear it? Can you see it?
Do you know what I know? God is here. For all. For ever.

Said the king to the people everywhere,
Listen to what I say
Pray for peace, people everywhere!
Listen to what I say
The Child, the Child, sleeping in the night
He will bring us goodness and light
He will bring us goodness and light

He has brought us goodness and light.
Look around.
Do you see what I see?
Love. HOPE AND peace.
He has brought us goodness and light. And it’s here, right now, for us to take, for us to embrace, for us to live.

Do you see?
Do you hear?
Do you know?
On this night, the whole earth is united under one star, singing one song and looking with wonder upon one miracle.
May the wonder of it all fill you to overflowing and may this Christmas bring us all that much closer to the dream of  the night wind, the little lamb, the shepherd boy and the mighty king:
Peace on Earth.
May you all have a Merry merry Christmas and a peaceful New year. Amen.

Advent 4 Yr A 2013 "What about Joseph?"

+What about Joseph?
A former intern of this parish, and my friend,
Fr. Paul Lillie, used to pose this lament at every turn during the Advent, Christmas and Epiphany seasons we worked together. On our pilgrimage to the Holy Land a couple of years ago, Paul made a point of showing me a stunning painting of Joseph and Jesus displayed at the Church of St Joseph in Nazareth. It’s a tender image of a grizzled working man gently holding the hand of his very young son. Images of just Joseph and Jesus are very difficult to find. A quick “google” of Jesus and Joseph paintings results in hundreds of thousands of images---with Mary Joseph and Jesus. very few  with just Joseph and Jesus.
Paul is right---what about Joseph,
why don’t we hear more about him?
Fortunately Joseph does get some attention in the Gospel we are reading during this church year, the Gospel of Matthew; today’s story of the angel visiting Joseph in a dream and then the tale of the Holy Family’s escape into Egypt to avoid persecution…and then?
Well then Joseph disappears from history. Scholars assume he was killed in one of the many Jewish insurrections against the Roman Empire early in Jesus’ life, but we don’t know.
What about Joseph?
Our prayer book is full of wonderful poetry the canticles (which are read at morning and evening prayer as well as Compline and…occasionally…on a Sunday morning) and the psalms are the most prolific sources of our liturgical verse. We have canticles attributed to all sorts of Biblical characters---the Song of Simeon is a song of praise commemorating the presentation of the infant Jesus 40 days after his birth on what has come to be known as Candlemas; there’s a song of Moses, several songs of Isaiah, a song for Creation and of course the most famous canticle of all: the Song of Mary, The Magnificat.
But what about a Song of Joseph? Even Zechariah, John the Baptist’s dad gets a song….but Joseph? Nada.
It’s a shame really. In this day and age we could really use a song about a good and decent man who, although terrified, confused and full of questions, does the right thing.
A faithful man who wonders as much as Mary did.
A loving man who cared as much as Mary did.
A mature man who knew the Son Mary bore was not biologically his, but Joseph loved him and cared for him as any Father does their Son.
Joseph was a good man. But he has no Song.
That is, until I was channel surfing a few weeks ago and came across some country music Christmas special. I can’t even tell you what it was called or why I stopped to watch…but by doing so I discovered a gem of a song, a song about Jesus, but sung from the perspective of Joseph .



I share it with you now in thanksgiving for all the fathers in this world who do the right thing.
In Thanksgiving for Joseph of Nazareth, Jesus’ earthly father.

 And for all father’s and father figures who formed us into who we all are today.

A Strange Way to Save the World
 ‘Sure he must have been surprised
At where this road had taken him
'Cause never in a million lives
Would he had dreamed of Bethlehem
And standing at the manger
He saw with his own eyes
The message from the angel come to life
And Joseph said...
(CHORUS)
Why me, I'm just a simple man of trade
Why Him, with all the rulers in the world
Why here inside this stable filled with hay
Why her, she's just an ordinary girl
Now I'm not one to second guess what angels have to say
But this is such a strange way to save the world
To think of how it could have been
If Jesus had come as He deserved
There would have been no Bethlehem
No lowly shepherds at His birth
But Joseph knew the reason
Love had to reach so far
And as he held the Savior in his arms
He must have thought...
(CHORUS)
Why Him, with all the rulers in the world
Why here inside this stable filled with hay
Why her, she's just an ordinary girl
Now I'm not one to second guess what angels have to say
But this is such a strange way to save the world.  ‘

...this is such a strange way to save the world...isn’t it? A seemingly ordinary young woman who, without knowing why it is or how it would end, said Yes.
A seemingly ordinary man who, without knowing why it is or how it will end, says yes.
These two people, ordinary people who became extraordinary simply by saying yes, brought us a baby. A simple innocent vulnerable baby.
Who will save us all.
Yes indeed, Joseph,
what a strange and beautiful,
What a strange and stunning
What a strange and magnificent way to save the world.
Joseph reminds us to thank God for good and decent men who say yes, no matter what.
Amen.

[1] A Strange Way To Save The World lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

Songwriters: KOCH, DONALD A. / CLARK, DAVID ALLEN / HARRIS, MARK R.

Advent 3 Yr A 2013 He is the One. And so are We.

Have you ever wondered if it’s all true? Wondered if Jesus was really God in the flesh? Wondered if Mary birthed the Son of God, the Messiah? Wondered if God was really there, really here, with us, for us?
Did you ever wonder if all this was true?
It's a question that’s asked by the most faithful and the least-- how can it be that God is here? There’s still hatred and intolerance; there’s still violence, hopelessness and loss. How can it be that Emmanuel--God is with us --- is true?
Is he really the one?
John the Baptist wondered.
Now don’t get me wrong, John the Baptist BELIEVED.
He believed that he was the one to herald the coming of the King, he  believed  he was to serve as Elijah to the Messiah, that he was to announce the coming of the Lord. But we find him in today’s Gospel wondering if maybe, just maybe he made a mistake.
Are you the one to come he asks?
And by the way, if you are how come you’re letting me languish in this cell? Herod Antipas isn’t mellowing, my days are numbered, Lord. HOW ABOUT SOME HELP HERE?
John believed.
But, and here’s where I think we can relate, what he thought he believed wasn’t playing out like he thought it would. He had faith that the Messiah would come. He had faith in Jesus, but Jesus as Messiah? Jesus didn’t fit the prototype, he wasn’t what John expected.
Think about the Gospel stories we hear throughout the year, think about who they tell us Jesus is? It’s not who we expected, is it? We love the man who held children dear, who embraced the outcast and the hated. But to love that Jesus we must also love the Jesus who tells people to turn on their families in order to follow him, who tears up the temple, who compares a Samaritan woman to a dog.
Jesus isn’t always who we want him to be.
Our faith is something we hold dear, the stories of our faith nourish us, the rhythm of our faith soothes us.
But the reality of our faith?
Well that often shakes us to our core.
Where’s the star? The shepherds? Where’s Mary talking to the angel Gabriel? Why oh why must we get these readings about judgment and vengeance 10 days before Christmas? Why can’t we get a nice gentle lead into the story we all know and love? Well, because the story we know and love isn’t the point. The birth of Jesus isn’t the point. The life of Jesus and the life of all who follow him is.
The fact is, the details of Jesus’ birth are actually fiction anyway. He was born in Nazareth not Bethlehem. He was born in a cave not a barn. Jospeh was a stone mason, not a carpenter… But it doesn’t matter--it isn’t important whether Jesus’ birth details are factual or not, the story rings true in our heart. It’s a sweet story that  is an icon of our faith—the census, the barn, the star, the angels, the shepherds, the straw---
But in the weeks leading to up to Christmas there’s not a star a sheep or an angel in sight.
Instead we get readings foreshadowing the second coming of Christ, the time when Jesus will return to the earth to separate the wheat from the chaff, the sheep from the goats, the followers of God from the non-believers. We get this Gospel where John the Baptist—John the Baptist!—begins to wonder, are you the one? Because it sure doesn’t look like you are. Where’s the kingdom? Where’s the peace? Where’s the unity?
Jesus words echo here---what did you come out to see, to hear? A show? A flashy liturgy full of promises, requiring absolutely nothing of you except tossing some money in the collection plate and following a set code of conduct that, if followed guarantees success and happiness…the so –called Proseprity Gospel?
Wouldn’t it be great if we could come to church every Sunday, listen to the beautiful music recite the familiar prayers, hear a decent sermon now and again, enjoy our friends at coffee hour….and then go home and not think about it again until next Sunday?
But that’s not how it works is it?
We don’t just wander out of church on Sunday, we are sent out to seek and serve Christ in all whom we encounter.
We are sent. To be Christ in the world. Christianity isn’t a spectator sport, is it? We are sent. To see and to do. To notice and to help. To realize and to change.
Everyone doubts, everyone wonders, everyone questions. There is so much to do!
  John the Baptist is scared, he’s worn out and he’s worried. Had he made a mistake? Was Jesus really the one to come?
Jesus, instead of soothing John with a simple, YES and oh by the way here are your parole papers…tells John that he is the One because the lame walk, the blind see and the hungry are fed. He’s telling John –and us---that the work of God here on earth is accomplished one step at a time, one kind act at a time, one healing moment at a time. And that His coming—the first time and the second---are book ends. We, the Body of Christ on earth are the filler.
 We, the followers of Christ, full of wonder and doubt, full of hope and despair full of questions that have no clear answers, fill in the space between the first and the second coming one step at a time, one kind act at a time, one healing moment at a time.
Jesus is the Messiah. And we are his followers.
As we enter into the wondrous story of his birth, don’t worry about what is fact and what is not, worry about what is true and right: that God so loved the world, God sent Jesus to live among us. What we do with that is up to us.

Advent 2 Yr A 2013

+There are so many images that come to mind while hearing today’s readings:
Wolves and lambs lounging in a peaceful co-existence, leopards and lions playing, a baby crawling safely within the reach of the snake.
Gentiles being welcomed into Judaism through the cleansing act of baptism—no 30 foot walls being erected to keep the Palestinians out of Israel present here--the images are almost unbelievable!
And then we have wild and wooly John the Baptist flying INTO A RAGE at the Pharisees who’ve come to gawk at his baptizing act in the River Jordan. There he is, all smelly and wrapped in camel hair, his own hair and beard a rat’s nest of a mess, blasting his message to all within ear shot, a touch of crazed ramblings infused with a wisdom that cannot be denied.
And one of my favorite images of all—that earnest little blade of grass shooting up from the stump of a tree: a branch from the tree of Jesse.
Have you ever felt like a stump….a mere fragment of your former self?  A little dried up and worn down, feeling as if life has cut you off at your knees?
“A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse…” Who could imagine anything growing as they sat on the stump of utter despair? I’ve sat there myself, perhaps you have, too. You may be there now -- at that place where hope is cut off, where loss and sadness have deadened your heart.
  God’s Advent word comes to sit with us. This word will not ask us to get up and dance. It doesn't come in a blaze of glory, it isn't delivered on a chariot of fire.  It comes to where we are and it comes to us how we are...happy and hopeful, or sad and despairing, regardless, it meets us where we are.
Isaiah's words have come to us today—hopeful words creating a vision that is surprising in it’s simplicity and honesty. Nothing hyperbolic and lofty here.   The nation would never rise again. The shoot would not become a mighty cedar. No, the shoot to come will not be the expected. It will be different. It will be surprising… it will be a child!
From the 53rd chapter of Isaiah we read:
For he grew up before them like a young plant,
and like a root out of dry ground;
he had no form or majesty that we should look at him,
nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.
  Yes, a shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse… fragile yet tenacious and stubborn. It will grow like a plant out of dry ground. It will push back the stone from the rock-hard tomb.
  It will grow in the heart of those cut off by unbearable sorrow until one morning they can look up again. It will grow in the hearts of people told over and over that they are nothing. Nobody. People who are hated, despised and left out. In the depths of that sorrow, in the grip of that hate, the plant will grow. It will break through the places where darkness dwells, where hope loses it's way, where loneliness spreads. The shoot will grow to sing shouts of Hosanna and Glory to God in the highest.
  What if we believe this fragile sign is God’s beginning? Perhaps then we will tend the seedling in our hearts, the place where faith longs to break through the hardness of our disbelief. Do not wait for the tree to be full grown. God comes to us in this Advent time and invites us to move beyond counting the rings of the past. We may still want to sit on the stump for a while, and God will sit with us. But God will also keep nudging us: “Look! Look -- there on the stump. Do you see that green shoot growing?”

O come, green shoot of Jesse, free
Your people from despair and apathy;
Forge justice for the poor and the meek,
Grant safety for the young ones and the weak.
Rejoice, rejoice! Take heart and do not fear,
God’s chosen one, Immanuel, draws near.
Getting ready, preparing our hearts for the coming of The Lord requires a willingness to open our hearts and receive the Love of God, wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a straw lined crib.
In closing, Listen to this, a meditation written for Advent, let it wash over you, may it open a spot in your heart:



A miracle is brewing.
Can you
feel it,
see it,
touch it.?
It will transport us…back to a time when all was possible…forward to a time when all is possible.

The miracle will change us until we are all the same.
The miracle will cause the wolf to  live with the lamb, the leopard to lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion.

The miracle is led by a child, for the child knows what we have forgotten:
That God is Love and Love is God and that Love is ours.
Always.

A miracle is brewing, it’s time.

time for the “us and thems” to be the we.
time when the “they and those” will be the you and me.
time when peace on earth will be.
Period.

A miracle is brewing, it’s time

Time for the miracle,
brewed in the thoughts of Isaiah
brewed in the yes of Mary.
brewed in the assent of Joseph.
brewed in the cries of the newborn savior,

to live.

Among us.
Within us.
Between Us.

A miracle is brewing.
Stir it.
Nurture it.
Tend it.
A miracle is brewing and we must –how can we not?—let it have its way with us.

(copyright The Rev’d Catherine Dempesy-Sims, 2011)

A miracle IS brewing.
Amen.