In the beginning: Our True Christmas Story Christmas 1 Dec 27, 2015 Final sermon

+In the beginning….well in the beginning there wasn’t much.
This is how the creation story begins in Godly Play, the children’s Sunday school curriculum.
And it’s true; in the beginning there wasn’t much of anything. At least nothing we would recognize, nothing that fits the limits of our human imaginings.
For in the beginning there was, simply, Love.
And not just any Love but capital L Love, the original Love. And this Love, the source of all Love could not, would not, and will not be contained.
So it sprung forth. And is still springing forth. It won’t end.
Love sprang forth. As light. A light to enlighten the nations, to enlighten the people, to illuminate all. Light was the first offspring of Love…
And this light? This light isn’t just any light; it is the Light, which was made from Love. It’s the light which illuminates eternity. It is the Light of Christ. It is the Light of God. It is the Fiery Light of the Holy Spirit.
 This is the light of all people. Forever.
The Light and the Love from which it sprung has spent generations’…millennia….illuminating the world, warming hearts and leading the way.
The way toward grace and truth.
The way from and back to Love.
In the beginning. Well, even before the beginning, it was dark. The light glimmered and then shone in the darkness, but the darkness didn’t go away. The darkness doesn’t go away. It creeps in. Here and there, now and again. But the Light which comes from Love is resilient. It is strong, it is persistent. The Light which Comes from Love is God and God will not stop. God will not be overshadowed, no matter how hard the darkness tries.
But the dark? It has a strange hold on us. It terrifies and intrigues us. It pulls at us and often, often we succumb. Not because we are bad, but because we are afraid. And darkness preys on fear.
Letting go of the dark is scary. It makes no sense…it’s one of the great mysteries of life, but it is true: Letting go of the dark is scary.
The angels say, Do Not Be Afraid; prophets are afraid, but they do it anyway. This being afraid and doing it anyway is the definition of courage. So Do Not be Afraid or have Courage and Be afraid but do it anyway-----For the Light which is Love is waiting.
The Light. That light which comes from Love, does not, can not and will not be overshadowed by the darkness. It will not give in to fear. The light shines brightly, waiting for us to open our hearts, minds and souls to it.
Is there darkness in your hearts? Is there fear? The Light which comes from Love is waiting. Waiting for you, waiting for us, to let go of the dark and allow the light to shine.
It has come to dwell among us in that manger and we need to travel--with the shepherds and the magi-- to that barn, peering over the crib to gaze at the outstretched arms of our Savior, reaching out, in light and love.
My friends, this is, indeed, my last sermon as your priest and I leave you with these words:

In these days of Christmas and forevermore, shed the fear of darkness and the darkness of fear, reach down to the source of all light and all love: Jesus Christ, the Child who has come to dwell among us full of grace and truth.
Because just like the angel Gabriel’s visits to Mary and Joseph, and just like no room at the inn and shepherds in a field, this shedding of the dark and embracing the light of love is our Christmas Story. May God’s abundant blessing be upon you and this parish church, this Christmas and forever, evermore.
Amen.

Christmas Day 2015 "our job isn’t to find God, our job is to realize that in the midst of all things, God is there"

+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 extra-ordinary--- 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’s a great event and we want to announce it right away! ….and this birth, the birth of Jesus, 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 the 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 of Jesus shows us the immense power of God—a huge lesson for each and every Christian—and it’s easy to get caught up in all the fanfare of the miracle…but we must be reminded 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 God’s 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 church on this most extraordinary of days.
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 the 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 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 God so loves us, God just can’t stay away.
So Merry Christmas to you all and may you never forget that God is Always Here.
Amen.

Christmas Eve 2015 In The Bleak Mid-Winter and Always, Give Your Heart

+For years I dismissed the hymn “In the Bleak Midwinter.” I mean the title itself turned me off---bleak midwinter? Forget it! But then I heard Annie Lennox’ version on her album Christmas Cornucopia. Lennox’ rendition is haunting,  and the words hit me as being so very honest, that I now listen to “In the Bleak Mid-Winter” year ‘round and have even used it as part of a Holy Week meditation. I am grateful to Christina Rosetti, the English poet who penned the words to the hymn in the 19th century and to Annie Lennox who got me to listen to it anew in the 21st.
My favorite line, and the one that summarizes my theology of Christmas well is this:  
“Our God, Heaven cannot hold “Him” nor earth sustain.”
God is so huge, so massive, so untamed that God’s, well God’s “Godness” God’s Divinity, cannot be held in check.
The Love and Light of all that is good in heaven and on earth cannot be contained, secured or held back. On this most Holy of Nights, God erupts out of heaven and pours out onto the earth.
In a barn.
In Bethlehem.
To a human mother.
Born. In the regular way---with the pain and the muck and the terror and the unspeakable, incomprehensible joy.
In the bleak midwinter…right here, and right now GOD has come to dwell among us.
In the bleak midwinter, right here and right now, God has arrived as a squawking, hungry, maybe even colicky baby.
In the bleak midwinter, right here and right now, in Buffalo New York, at the corner of Jewett Pkwy and Summit Ave, God has, once again arrived…as a vulnerable little being, in need of nurture. In need of care. In need of Love.
In the bleak midwinter, right here and right now, on this Holy night, God has descended from the heavenly throne to meet us where we’re at.
In the Bleak Midwinter.
In Western New York.
In our hearts and throughout our souls,
God has arrived.
Here and Now, JUST AS WE ARE, God has come.
You who may only be here because your grandmother, grandfather, parent, sibling, spouse expects that you will , at least once or twice a year, attend church. God has come because of you.
You who may be a faithful attendee of church but who, if you’re honest, doesn’t even know what you believe anymore, God has come. For you, because of you, with you.
You who have so much fear, so much loss, so much doubt, God has come. Here and Now.
To be with you.
To be for you,
To be in you
To Be.
Here and Now
In the bleak midwinter of our lives, God, as God does again and again and again, God has come to be with us.
In the bleak midwinter our God, OUR GOD, the God for you, the God for me, the God for everyone everywhere, always and forever, has come because neither Heaven can hold this God, nor can Earth sustain. So this
 God, our God bridges the here and now with the always and forever.
On this Holy Night, in this Bleak mid winter, during our regular lives, full of hope and joy, full of doubt and despair, full of wonder and wander, God has come.
Not to judge.
Or to destroy
Or to terrorize.
No, on this Holy Night, in this mid winter and in this place, God has broken into the world because God cannot stay away.
For God so loved the world that God came to be among us as Jesus the Christ.
God has broken free of heaven to roam this earth because God needs us.
And God knows, we need God.

Perhaps you’re shocked that God needs us.
Perhaps you’re uncomfortable with the idea that you need God.
It’s why this night is so amazing, because it is so very real:
We are in this together, God and us. We both have our parts in bringing the Love, Light and Peace of God to this world. Right here and right now, on this Holy Night,  as we welcome the infant Jesus, we must remember that this birth, this baby, this gift is given to us and for us.
As the hymn states,
What can I give him,
poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd,
I would bring a lamb;
if I were a wise man,
I would do my part;
yet what I can I give him-
give my heart

It’s so easy to dismiss the arrival of God incarnate as a gift for someone else. Someone more worthy, someone more holy, someone more devoted.
It’s so easy to dismiss the arrival of God in the person of the Baby Jesus as something much to big for us to fathom, for us to earn, for us to understand. And you know what? It is. It’s too big, we can never earn it, and we certainly can never understand it.
Perhaps if we were wiser, we would do our part, perhaps if we were shepherds we would bring a lamb but we, you and me here and now on this Holy Night, what can we possibly do with the greatest gift ever given? We can accept it. We can open our hearts and invite God in. Here. Now. On this Holy Night I invite you to give this baby, our baby, our Lord, and our Savior, your heart.
Amen.

MARY GIVES US A SLIVER OF THE DIVINE Advent 4 Yr C Dec 20, 2015

+Do we really need Mary? I mean other than the wonderful traditions around Christmas, when we think about the Christian Way, do we really need a figure like “Mary,” do we need the trek to Bethlehem on the donkey? Do we need no room at the inn? Do we need the stable? What would we, as Christians, be if Jesus had arrived as a fully grown being, beginning his ministry as he did---with his baptism by John, his retreat into the temptations of the wilderness? Where would we be if Mary hadn’t entered the picture, if there wasn’t any “ “God Bearer?” Do we need Mary?
This came up at Bible Study on Tuesday and the discussion which followed was awesome.
“Who is Mary” I asked? “She’s the anchor,” came one response. Someone else said, “I’d have a harder time with a Savior who wasn’t part human in the regular sense---I think it’s important that Jesus was born the same way we were. A savior born like we were is incredibly humbling and fraught with possibility----Jesus has to know what it’s like to be us, because Jesus is us.”
Another person added, “God, by choosing to come and be among us through Mary and the Holy Spirit sealed the deal. Jesus has our humanity within him and we, each and every one of us, has some of his divinity within us.”
“Jesus has a piece of humanity within him and therefore—and this is the fraught with wonder, awe and possibility part—we have a piece, a sliver, of Divinity within us.”
A Sliver of Divinity.
I love this metaphor and I thank Jo Meachem for creating it and for the rest of the Bible Study folks for fleshing it out.
I don’t know about you, but for me,  it’s pretty easy for me to accept and embrace, indeed to LOVE, the notion of Jesus’ humanity. It brings me great joy, incredible peace and solace in times of tribulation to know that Jesus, too, took on skin and walked this earth as a human being.
But the idea that through his being born of Mary, through God’s desire to be fully among us, we have a portion of God’s Divinity within us, has always been a more difficult concept to understand. We usually don’t talk about divinity, this light of Christ, being within us in specific terms we tend to talk about in more ethereal “Holy Spirit” terms.
But the incarnation of God--the birth of Jesus Christ---is what unleashes the earthly arrival of Divinity.
 To ignore that until after Jesus’ crucifixion, resurrection and ascension is a mistake, because if there is one thing I know about God it’s that our relationship with God is just that—a relationship, a give and take---God gives to us, we receive it (or not) and then through that reception we are strengthened, prodded and pushed to do all sorts of things we never thought we could. By doing this, by accepting God into our lives lock stock and barrel we spread that light to all those we encounter. We do our part, God does God’s and eventually peace, love and light will fill this world.

But when does it begin?
At our baptisms? Sure at that liturgy and within that sacrament the Holy Spirit is invited—usually by our parents and godparents-- into our hearts and minds and souls. BUT does the sliver of divinity only begin then?
No way.
Think about a baby.
A newborn.
Try and tell me that in that newborn there isn’t already a sliver of the Divine.
Of course there is. My friends, through Mary and the Holy Spirit we’ve been given the Divine within us. It’s just a sliver...not because God is miserly with God’s Divinity but because we are human. We have independent thought, we have free will….it is up to us to take that sliver of divinity, that kindling of the Holy One and ignite it.
We do that in and through our work as Christian people. We do it at School 54, the Food Pantry, the Pet Food Pantry.
We do it by standing up against income and opportunity inequality in the City of Buffalo.
We do it by saying no to Gun Violence and working diligently to counteract the fear-mongering of the gun lobby.
We do it by demanding that we, as a country, remain true to our founding principles of liberty and justice for all.
We do it by following the command of our Baptismal Covenant to seek and serve Christ in all and to respect the dignity of every single human being.
Through Mary we are given the spark of New Life in Christ, we are given a sliver of the divine, we are given the greatest gift of all time. Through Mary. So yes, Virginia, I think we do need Mary, for Mary builds the bridge between this world and the next, Mary gives us Jesus, Mary raises Jesus, Mary nurtures Jesus. We need her and thanks be to God, we have her and that splinter!
Now, on what is most likely the last sermon many of you will hear me preach as your rector (I’ll be preaching Christmas Eve, Christmas and next Sunday, but this feels like the last day we’ll be together as a family—just us) let me leave you with these words:
Never ever forget that splinter of the Divine within you.
And remember this about splinters: they often hurt.
Being bearers of Christ’s light to all whom you encounter will not always be easy. But carry on, for the world needs you.
Splinters are annoying.
Being bearers of Christ’s light demands honesty, courage and grit. Endure my friends.the future of this place rests on your shoulders. You can do this. What do you want the Church of the Good Shepherd to be? Who do you want sitting in the pews next to you, how will you find your way in this new world where church attendance seems such a low priority while the need for hope seems to be so great? You can figure this out. Pay attention to each other, never forget the world right outside these doors and know that just as God will never leave you, neither will I. You are in my prayers now and always. I thank you for who you are, I look forward to who you will become and I am grateful, beyond words, for the honor and privilege of being your priest and rector.
God loves you. No exceptions. Never forget that.
Amen.

Advent 3C Pete's Last sermon at 96 Jewett

This is a crazy time for all of us.  It is only by the grace of God that Cathy and I were even able to find appropriate attire for today.  When we are looking for some item that we desperately need, or think we need, it is either at the ranch, at the rectory, in the sacristy, in her car or in my car…who the heck knows?  And, for all of us, preparing for the holidays can be stressful, full of too many obligations, too many unfinished things on our ‘to-do’ list, too little time and too little sleep.
Here we are, in the midst of Advent, a time of anticipating the birth of God incarnate.  We desperately need some inner balance and outer harmony.  How do we survive, let alone flourish, in such a hectic time.  Indeed, how can we approach all of our days, good ones and bad ones, frantic ones and restful ones, with a sense of joy and peace?
The Christians of Philippi were frazzled, frightened and fragmented; outsiders were trying to draw believers away from God, many Christians faced persecution.  Paul wanted them to know that, no matter how rotten things might seem, they would not be defeated.
Paul gives the Philippians the secret to finding joy and peace; he gives them two words, ”with thanksgiving”.  Thanksgiving is the dynamic, the spirit and the emotion that opens us up to joy and peace and hope.  Gratitude is the one emotion where we are truly focused not on ourselves, but on the gift and the giver.  We are turned toward God and toward Life.
We teach children how to say thank-you and that’s not always easy, because it can be hard to find role models for them in our world.  We insist they say it but we cannot force them to mean it.  And we cannot force ourselves to mean it either.
Gratitude is a matter of perspective, it’s about what we focus on, what we pay attention to in our lives.  The folks I know who project gratitude regularly are the folks who make it a habit to pay attention to whatever is positive in their lives.
The grace of gratitude comes when we are able to discipline ourselves to develop a healthy perspective, when we learn to be patient and to show our gentleness to everyone.  The grace of gratitude comes when we lose the assumption that life would be better without the obstacles, troubles and deprivations that come our way.  I’m sure, if we are honest with ourselves, that most of us can name at least one surprising benefit or gift that has come our way through circumstances that initially did not seem favorable.
Corrie ten Boom, who with her family lived through the holocaust, often told the story of how she and her sister Betsy survived in a flea-ridden Nazi prison camp.  Betsy one day said “I have found something in the Bible that will help us.  It says, ‘In all things give thanks’.  Corrie said, “I can’t give thanks for the fleas.”  Betsy replied, “Give thanks that we’re together.  Most families have been split up.”  Corrie thought she could do that.  Her sister continued, “Give thanks that somehow the guards didn’t check our belongings and we have our Bible with us.”  Corrie gave thanks for that, but she would not even think of giving thanks for the fleas.  Later, they found out that the only reason they were not molested and harmed by the guards was because their captors were so repulsed by the fleas that they would not even enter the sisters’ cell.  Corrie allowed as how this taught her to give thanks for all things, because you never know…
Gratitude and thanksgiving are not about the easy and pretty places in our lives, but they are about accepting that all of life, warts and all, is a precious, glorious gift. It is about the trust and faith that Jeremiah had when he said “I know the plans I have in mind for you, declares the Lord; they are plans for peace, not disaster, to give you a future filled with hope.”
Luke’s gospel, continuing the story of John, points us toward hope.  Well, it points toward hope after you get past the brood of vipers stuff….  The recipe that John gives us for a hopeful future isn’t as hard as it sounds.  John says to share what we have, be honest with each other and resist the urge to be bullies.  That is how we will do our part to create the kingdom that Jesus will soon announce.
Our job is to live like God’s kingdom is here, like we believe it’s really coming, like we believe it actually matters. (David Lose. In the Meantime.  Advent 3 C.  Ordinary Saints)  Imagine what our world would look like if we disciplined ourselves to do these three things; share, be honest and don’t bully.  Imagine how all of the political rhetoric about guns, refugees, medical care, equal rights, income disparity, and foreign policy would change if we insisted all of our leaders also have to share, be honest and stop bullying.  Imagine how schools, hospitals, retail shops, financial service institutions, insurance companies, and public utilities would change if we demanded from them that they share, use honesty in all of their dealings and stop bullying their clients . That’s living like we really believe in God’s kingdom, here on earth.


Good Shepherd Ending
This is the last time I will preach with you on a Sunday morning.  My heart is full of gratitude and thanksgiving for you, the people of Good Shepherd.  Gratitude and thanksgiving that you trusted me with your rector, with your rectory, with your Sunday School, and with your developing relationship with School 54.  You accepted me as your deacon and welcomed me as a friend. This is not an easy time for any of us.  Saying “good-bye” is not for sissies. I don’t know about all of you, but it has been hard for me to get past my personal feelings of loss, of sadness, of fear and anxiety.  And yet, we all have, as Jeremiah said, a future filled with hope.  My prayer for you is that you will claim this hope and continue living into the future God is calling you into.  I ask for your prayers, as you will always have mine.  Amen.




Ascension Ending:
This is the last time I will preach with you on a Sunday morning.  My heart is full of thanksgiving and gratitude for you, the people of Ascension.  You welcomed me warmly as a diaconal intern, you raised me up as a diaconal candidate, and you surpassed anything I could have anticipated in your embrace of the Pet Food Pantry.  Together we soldiered on when Armand left.  Together we rejoiced when Cathy came to be among us.  Together we agonized over what to do with the building at 16 Linwood.  Together we made history with our move to share space with Good Shepherd.  And, through it all, we loved one another.  No matter what, we came together for worship and shared the grace we received through the Eucharist.  Saying ‘good bye’ isn’t for sissies. I don’t know about all of you, but it has been hard for me to get past my personal feelings of loss, of sadness, of fear and anxiety.  And yet, we all have, as Jeremiah said, a future filled with hope.  My prayer for you is that you will claim this hope and continue living into the future God is calling you into.  I ask for your prayers, as you will always have mine.  Amen.

The valley is filled. The way is straight. Let’s Go! Advent 2 C Dec 6, 2015

+This week, at Bible study, we focused on these words from the 40th chapter in the book of Isaiah:

A voice cries out:

“In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord,

    make straight in the desert a highway for our God. 

Every valley shall be lifted up,

    and every mountain and hill be made low;

the uneven ground shall become level,

    and the rough places a plain.”

It may seem a little odd that we focused on words written by the Isaiah since we don’t actually read from the Isaiah this week, but both the prophet Baruch (our first reading) and the evangelist Luke (or Gospel reading) paraphrase Isaiah this week.

Baruch says:

For God has ordered that every high mountain and the everlasting hills be made low
    and the valleys filled up, to make level ground,
    so that Israel may walk safely in the glory of God.

Luke says:

Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth…

Even Handel in his composition of The Messiah paraphrases Isaiah:

Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God…

prepare ye the way of the Lord; make straight in the desert a

highway for our God

Ev'ry valley shall be exalted, and ev'ry moutain

and hill made low; the crooked straight and the

rough places plain.

The words of Isaiah are so much a part of Advent and Christmas, so familiar that it’s easy to let them pass by without notice. To ignore them.

Don’t.

At this time in our nation with mass shootings becoming absolutely routine…

these words, penned by Isaiah, quoted by Baruch, Luke and Handel tell us what we need to hear, loud and clear:

God does everything God can to make the way into God’s out-stretched arms straight, smooth, and level. God does everything God can do to make the way into God’s full presence accessible to everyone, everywhere, always.

And yet, more than 355 mass shootings have occurred in the United States this year. And, depending on the definition you follow over 1,000 have occurred since that dark and horrifying day in middle December, 2012. You remember Sandy Hook, right?

On Dec 14, 2012 a gunman walked into Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown CT  killing 20 1st graders and six teachers, breaking our hearts and no doubt, God’s.

And yet….we keep killing each other at an unprecedented rate.

If God’s heart broke in 2012, what in the world has happened to God’s heart since then?

One could make a case for God to be so disgusted with us, that God would, at this point, turn God’s back on us all, forgetting this creation and moving on to a new one.

God should be mad.

Disgusted.

Incensed.

DONE WITH US.

And yet,

Every valley shall be lifted up,

    and every mountain and hill be made low;

the uneven ground shall become level,

    and the rough places a plain.

Why is it that God doesn’t/hasn’t/WON’T give up on us?

Because God is God and we are not.

Thank God for that.

Because this? This mess we’re in, this horror we’re living, this tipping point of civilization that seems to be this moment in time, requires all the mercy, love and grace God can muster.

You know what gets me about this whole gun violence thing? It’s eminently fixable. This isn’t some rare form of cancer, this isn’t some autocratic foreign ruler who wishes the United States ill, this isn’t a pestilence of indeterminate origins wiping out our food source. This is a matter of legislation and culture. There have to be more people in this country who are sickened by these mass killings than not. And yet we can’t seem to fix it. Us, the supposed greatest country in the world cannot fix this?

But clearly, we can’t. Cleary we’ve gotten so tied up in our crooked roads, so lost in our monstrous valleys of worry and doubt, so discouraged by the mountain peaks of obstacles that we simply can’t do it.

The New York Daily News got a load of flak with their headline on Thursday that read, “God Isn’t Fixing This.”

Well you know what? I agree with the Daily News. God’s not fixing this. This is our mess and we have to fix it. God will help, by giving us the strength and the courage to do what we have to do.

But we have to do it.

And you know what? We can. We must and God-help us, we will.

How?

By refusing to be silent, by refusing to accept the status quo, by having the courage of Mary who said yes, when common sense dictated she say no; by having the integrity of Joseph who should have said turned away, but instead turned toward.

We do it by gazing out at our mountains of fear, our valleys of doubt and our roads twisted by anxiety and realize that

Every valley has been lifted up,

and every mountain and hill has been made low;

the uneven ground has become level,

and the rough places have been made a plain by our God.

Our awesome and ever-loving God whose heart has broken, but whose faith in us remains strong.

The darkness will not overcome us.

The evil will not prevail.

For ‘the angel said to them, Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.’ And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying,

‘Glory to God in the highest heaven,

   and on earth peace among those whom God favours!’

On this Second Sunday of Advent 2015, when we face the encroaching darkness of this world, may each of us remember that we are empowered to overwhelm that darkness with the light of that Heavenly Host shining upon that one small crib, in that one lonely barn, upon that one little baby, Jesus Christ our Lord through whom we can do all things. Even this.

Amen And Alleluia.