The Third Week of Advent

Sunday, December 16, 2007

Did one of last week’s meditations mention something about there being plenty of time to calmly prepare for the celebration of Christ’s birth in a serene and contemplative spirit?

Well, FORGET THAT! It’s the third Sunday of Advent, for Pete’s sake, and just look at this place! We have to get those packages in the mail pronto, and we need to order the ham. Aunt Betty’s fruitcake isn’t even frosted much less packed, and we’ve run out of gift wrap and tape and tags, there’s an inch of dust on that coffee table and the candles at the front window need new bulbs.

Not to mention getting everyone to work and school every day, finishing homework, the car’s “check engine” light is flashing, and I think the microwave is about to go on the fritz.

Oh, my gosh, what the heck am I going to do?! Mustn’t panic. Take a deep breath.

Why do people always say to take a deep breath when on the brink of panic? What good does a breath do? What I really need is for someone to hand me a good tall cup of coffee, with chocolate cookies on the side, thank you very much.

Let’s face it. Not everything is going to get done.

Okay, is that so awful? Is the world going to end if Aunt Betty’s fruitcake is shipped without frosting? Will angels weep if the packages arrive on the day after Christmas?

The perfect Christmas is a figment of the imagination, anyway. Just look at the original: an exhausted couple straggling into Bethlehem with the woman in heavy labor. What was Joseph thinking taking her away from Nazareth at such a time? Sheltering in a stable?

Think about it. She somehow manages to give birth to a healthy child in miserable conditions and then she doesn’t even get to rest because a band of rowdy shepherds show up with crazy stories about angels! And then, what else? Magicians from Asia? Did anyone think to bring dinner? How about a bucket of warm water to wash the baby? Could someone please hold the baby so the Blessed Mother can get some blessed sleep?

The birth of Christ wasn’t perfect by anyone’s standards – and God was in charge! Why do we get bent out of shape when we can’t achieve perfection? The Christmas story is all about unexpected arrivals, unplanned guests, unpredictable calamities that somehow turn out not only all right . . . they actually save the world.

Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her than to help me.” But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by may things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.” Luke 10:38-42

Loving God, clear our cluttered minds. Help us to focus on the one important thing, which is yourself. Teach us to simplify our lives, to clear out the clutter of too many possessions, too many distractions, too many worries, too many fears. We seem incapable of helping ourselves, so we turn to you in our failure, hoping for the wisdom and strength of your Spirit. Bend our stubborn wills to your own will, that encouraged by your own lives and the lives of your faithful followers, we can discover the peace of your blessed kingdom in this world, in this time, and always. Amen.

Monday, December 17, 2007

The Third Week of Advent – nothing is calm and I’m not feeling very bright. But here we are, and the calendar isn’t going to turn back just because I’m not ready for celebrating yet. These are the days when the discipline of meditation is most important. It’s when we feel rushed and frantic that we need to take a moment. . . or more than a moment . . . to be still and let the Spirit take control once more.

Gaudete Sunday, the third Sunday of Advent, signals the week of Joy. Not panic, joy. Advent is half over and the third Advent candle is pink, anticipating the coming of God’s Light into our darkened world. That’s also justification for the silly animated pink candles.

This week we focus on the shepherds of the Christmas story, the ragged laborers who heard the angels song, then spread the message of Christ’s birth after going to find him in the manger. We’re so accustomed to the story that we easily miss how odd it really is.

Suppose that the front-running Presidential candidate – perhaps Hillary or Mitt or Rudy - visited Phoenix with a full entourage of television reporters, Secret Service security forces, advisors, fund-raisers, the whole shebang. It’s a major event in the Presidential race. Then suppose that, instead of calling on Governor Janet Napolitano or Mayor Phil Gordon or even Sheriff Joe Arpaio, the candidate directed the limo driver to the corner of 32^nd Street and Thomas Road, stepped out of the car and stood for an hour in deep consultation with the crowd of Hispanic day laborers gathered there hoping for work.

Wait a minute, that’s silly! No serious candidate would do such a thing. Besides, those day laborers are mostly undocumented. By definition, they are illegal aliens and criminals. There’s no parallel with the shepherds of Bethlehem.

Well, actually, there’s quite a bit of parallel. In First Century Palestine, shepherds were right at the bottom of the labor ladder. They were dirt poor, hired laborers tending someone else’s sheep for a miserly wage. They were dirty, which was worse than being poor in a Jewish society with strict laws about ritual cleansing. These particular shepherds were outdoors at night, which means they lacked the seniority or the power to work a day shift.

And yet the announcement of Christ’s birth was not given to the mayor of Bethlehem, or to the priests in the Temple or to the governor in the palace. It was given to the shepherds.

Thanks be to God for the mystery of grace.

Who has believed what we have heard? And to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed? For he grew up before him 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. He was despised and rejected by others; a man of suffering and acquainted with infirmity; and as one from whom others hide their faces he was despised, and we held him of no account. Surely he has borne our infirmities and carried our diseases; yet we accounted him stricken, struck down by God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have all turned to our own way, and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all. Isaiah 53: 1-6

Amazing God, we are so far from understanding your ways. In our pride, we assume that we know your will, and that our works are furthering your kingdom. Then you lift up your hand and do something so unexpected, so completely amazing and strange that we can do nothing but stand in silent wonder. Forgive us, Lord, and open the eyes of our minds that we can see as you see. Help us to hear and to understand so that we might work in true accordance with your will. Through Jesus our Lord, Amen.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

This morning I received an email from a good friend that brightened my day. The Christmas greetings included an illustration of the Baby Jesus that is just adorable – just what I need for one of next week’s meditations. It even included a recording of “Silent Night” to add to my music collection. The message was an encouragement to remember to wish people “Merry Christmas” through the holiday season, which I agree is a very nice thing to do.

Thankfully the email did not include the dreaded “send this to 10 other people or you’re not a good Christian” ending. Those things just ruin the pleasure of any email. Unfortunately, though, the note did include an admonition to stop being “politically correct,” and avoid the religiously non-specific greeting, “Happy Holidays.”

Let’s think about this. Of course I’d wish my fellow church members a Merry Christmas. And I encounter plenty of people who advertise their faith by wearing crosses as necklaces or lapel pins; they’d appreciate a Merry Christmas wish. It’s especially nice when we’re out shopping to offer cheerful greetings to clerks, food servers, and others whose lives brush against our own, and if it’s easy to see that they share our faith, by all means, offer a jolly “Merry Christmas!”

But what about my Jewish neighbor down the street, or my pharmacist, who wears a beard and turban? What about my Hindu dentist? Wouldn’t it be rather rude to project my religious tradition onto them? I’ll wish my neighbor a happy Chanukah, but I’m not familiar enough with Sikh or Hindi customs to offer the appropriate greeting. I really do hope they have lovely holidays with their families. Why not say “Happy Holidays?”

It’s popular to oppose being “political correct.” Yet what is that but being considerate of others? If we don’t know whether the head of a committee is a man or woman, it makes sense to use the word “chairperson.” When our Presbytery gathers, it’s common courtesy to offer prayers in multiple languages, whether Navajo, Spanish or Korean. My wheelchair-using friends and I sometimes joke among ourselves about being “gimps.” But we’d be very offended if people walking past us used such words!

Forget about being “politically correct.” But shouldn’t we make every effort to be considerate, extending courtesy and hospitality to everyone, at all times, especially at this holiday season?

Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, thing about these things. Keep on doing the things that your have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you. Philippians 4:5-9

Remind them to be subject to rulers and authorities, to be obedient, to be ready for every good work, to speak evil of no one, to avoid quarreling, to be gentle, and to show every courtesy to everyone. Titus 3:1-2

Mighty God, we are easily discouraged when our good deeds do not make things better. We fear harm to ourselves if we reach out to a stranger or if we refuse to “go along” with our friends. Signs of danger arise in our world and we doubt the peace you have prepared. We close our eyes to the signs of the times and live for the moment. God, in Christ, forgive our cowardice and blindness, for the sake of the One who endured birth in a stable and death on a cross. Amen.

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Advent is the season of expectation. We anticipate the celebration of Christ’s birth as an infant in Bethlehem, and we also renew our hope that he will come once again, not as Baby Jesus, but as King Jesus, to establish the Peace of God on Earth, and reign forevermore.

For a long time, I was an enthusiastic participant in that sector of Christianity that expects the 2^nd Coming of Christ at any moment. We saw vivid signs of his imminent appearing in every morning’s newspaper. Events in world politics seemed to leap directly from the pages of scripture. The weather, the media, the rise (or fall) of crime and the economy, every aspect of life shouted to us, “The end is near!”

For just about an equal amount of time, I have been an enthusiastic participant in a different sector of Christianity. We tend to look at the events of the world with a greater sense of . . . calm? That’s not quite the word. Tragedies and injustice certainly are causes of alarm, and motivations to action. But we don’t see them as signs of The End. It might be accurate to say that when we see the same events that cause some Christians to see the end of the world, we see a need to get off our behinds and do something to correct the problem.

The truth undoubtedly lies somewhere between these extremes. It usually does.

An old story, usually accredited to Tolstoy, tells of Martin the shoemaker who dreamed that Jesus would visit him the very next day. When Martin awoke, he waited all day for the Master, only to go to bed that evening in deep disappointment. But Jesus came to him again in a dream, and explained that each person who came to Martin’s door – the hungry soldier, the desperate mother, the shivering child – each had been Jesus himself.

Christ has come, Christ is come, Christ will come again. Will we recognize him when he comes to us?

When he was sitting on the Mount of Olives, the disciples came to him privately, saying, “Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign of your coming and of the end of the age?” Jesus answered them, “Beware that no one leads you astray. For many will come in my name, saying, ‘I am the messiah!’ and they will lead many astray. Matthew24:3-6

‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?’ Then he will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’ And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.”Matthew 25:44-46

O God, with unhurried gentleness you draw near to us, bidding us lift our eyes and open them to the infinite stars and ordinary wonders all about us. Yet we see the waning sun, the wet and rainy desert, the tinsel of holiday display, each other’s weary faces and we know we have seen this all before. We cannot claim a breathless anticipation of the coming of Christ. We have heard the story before and it is not new. The season is familiar and holds no surprises. O Ancient of days, your power and love are as old as the fading sun, yet ever new. Help us to see how love is borne into our world in every new second, and how each moment calls us to welcome the Son. We rejoice for you are doing a new thing in our midst and in our world. Amen.

Thursday, December 20, 2007

“Sorry to call so early, Mom, but I’ve got a baking emergency.” It was late morning in my daughter’s east-coast home, but early hours here in Arizona. “I’m making brownies for today’s office party, and I’ve already added water and oil to the mix. But I don’t have any eggs! What should I do?”

Suzanna has far more education than I have. She can whip a chaotic hospital floor into shape with breathtaking efficiency. But in a kitchen emergency, Mom’s experience trumps advanced chemistry every time.

I asked probing questions: how much oil was added? Was there baking powder in the mix? The recommended solution was to bake the batter with the addition of chocolate chips, then roll the resultant fudge into powdered sugar-covered balls. (Full disclosure: subsequent phone calls reported the solution was less than successful. Oh well, one can't always be a hero.)

It was a minor crisis. Not really an emergency at all. But to a young mother with an infant in arms and a toddler in tow, juggling her work schedule with her husband’s 12-hour day, plus day-care hours, church duties and extended family needs, a last minute glitch in a pan of brownies can seem overwhelming. It’s not on par with balancing the national budget or establishing peace in the Middle-east, but all things are relative.

So she did what kids do: she called Mom for help.

Isn’t that what we always do? When we get ourselves into a fix, we holler, “O God, help!” But that’s perfectly okay. God doesn’t glare down and blame us for getting into a mess again. God reaches out with infinite patience, puts us on our feet, and sends us out to try again.

Joseph thoroughly messed up the whole Bethlehem thing. The Gospel writer doesn’t record any blame for forgetting to arrange lodging or making sure a midwife would be on hand when they arrived. He probably wanted to cry, “Oh God!” more than once during that night in the stable.

We don’t know whether the shepherds got lost in their rush to find the new-born Messiah. The text says they “found” the child lying in the manger. It doesn’t mention how many stables they searched before they got there.

We know for certain that the Magi got themselves in a predicament, and nearly blew the entire Nativity by leading Herod straight to Bethlehem. That snafu led to dire consequences, indeed.

Yet God sticks with us, no matter what. We might ruin the brownies, or we might run to the wrong manger, or we might spill the beans to a murderous tyrant. Sometimes we have to suffer the consequences of our errors. Emmanuel, God With Us, loves us still.

When Israel was a child, I love him, and out of Egypt I called my son. The more I called them, the more they went from me; they kept sacrificing to the Ba’als, and offering incense to idols. Yet it was I who taught Ephraim to walk, I took them up in my arms; but they did not know that I healed them. I led them with cords of human kindness, with bands of love. I was to them like those who lift infants to their cheeks, I bent down to them and fed them. . . I will not execute my fierce anger; I will not again destroy Ephraim; for I am God and no mortal, the Holy One in your midst, and I will not come in wrath.
Hosea 11:1-4, 9.

Abba, Father, Daddy/Mama God, we are your children; born of your Spirit and bearing your name. You reach out to us with so much compassion; you wait so patiently for us to turn to you in our need. Forgive us for our pride, our ridiculous pretense at independence, our arrogance in not admitting our need. Help us to throw away whatever it is that prevents us from running into your open arms. You are everything that we need, and we are grateful. In Jesus, who taught us to call you Father, Amen.

Friday, December 21, 2007

We know – or we think we know – pretty much about the shepherds who watched the flocks on the hills outside Bethlehem on that long-ago night. They were undoubtedly poor and shabbily dressed, and it’s a good guess they were also cold and hungry.

When they ran into town to find the Baby Jesus, what did they do? Contrary to the carols, they probably did not present the Holy Family with a lamb; few shepherds could own the flocks they watched. It’s possible that someone had a pouch of bread and cheese to share or a flagon of sour wine. It’s more likely the shepherds went out from the stable and woke up everyone they knew in the sleeping town.

“. . . They made known what had been told them about this child; and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them.” Rough, excited, night shift laborers generally are not quiet or genteel. The shepherds probably ran shouting through the streets, and they weren’t singing Christmas carols! They were acting crazy and they were absolutely drunk with the excitement of seeing angels then discovering the Messiah.

“Wake up! Come with us! Bring food, bring meat, bring wine!” Imagine waking up in the middle of the night by the likes of these madmen! They had run directly from the sheep fields, so they were sweating and smelling of manure and making a horrible uproar. “O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie?” Not by a long shot!

In staggering contrast, when we celebrate the birth of Christ, we’re anything but hungry. We’re surrounded by so much food that our health is in danger. We go to great lengths not to offend anyone with our noise or music. If we knock on doors in the middle of the night, it will be carefully pre-arranged to prevent any surprises.

Too often we welcome Christmas in lovely, candlelit rooms with soft music and alluring aromas of vanilla and coffee in the background. We wear our best silk and cashmere, and think about warm sweet drinks by a fire. Our children are decked out in velvet and lace, and we admonish them to sit quietly and not make a sound, or Santa Claus will not be pleased.

Okay, not everyone is that bad. But you get the point. Christmas never was “silent” or “calm and bright.” The coming of our Lord into this world was shocking, rough, painful, smelly and cold. It was God’s greatest outrage, the scandal of Incarnation, beginning in a stable and ending on the cross. Glory to God in highest heaven!

Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and you that have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen carefully to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food. Incline your ear, and come to me; listen, so that you may live. I will make with you an everlasting covenant, my steadfast, sure love for David. See, I made him a witness to the peoples, a leader and commander for the peoples. See, you shall call nations that you do not know, and nations that do not know you shall run to you, because of the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, for he has glorified you. Isaiah 55: 1-5

We are so rich in your blessings! When we look out into the world, where so many of your children have so little, we are ashamed of our greed. Yet we are truly needy – we need more of your grace, more of your wisdom, more of your willingness to give of our abundance to others. Forgive us for thinking only of our selves and our comforts, dear Lord. Help us to open our hearts and our hands, that we will be your children not only in name, but in truth. Amen.

Saturday, December 22, 2007

Are we there yet?

When’s dinner?

Won’t they ever get here?

Why is it taking so long?

It’s hard to wait. Wait and wait. Then the moment arrives and we aren’t ready! There’s that sense that something important has been forgotten – something overlooked – let me run back and check one more time!

Aren’t you ready yet? Let’s get this show on the road!

In Advent, we’re supposed to reflect on the coming of Christ; high time we got busy thinking about that. Yet when it comes right down to it, what can we do to get ready for an event the Church has been expecting for 2000 years? Talk about procrastination on a divine scale!

Uh, oh, I’m in trouble now. We’re not supposed to say things like that. Especially not a pastor’s wife who’s supposed to be a Paragon of Christian Womanhood. Yeah, I’m in trouble.

But, honestly, aren’t we all thinking it? For heaven’s sake, two millennia? I mean, when I invite a guest to 6:00 supper and they don’t show up, sometime around midnight I figure it’s a safe bet that they’re not coming. Two thousand years?

In Arizona, and especially in our Presbytery, we joke about “Navajo time.” The Navajo have been living here a lot longer than have the uptight Europeans, and they have a different perspective on what it means to be “on time.” This afternoon? Tomorrow? That’s fine, we’ll still be here.

A thousand ages in thy sight are as an evening gone;

Short as the watch that ends the night before the rising sun.

Maybe God operates on extreme Navajo time. Five minutes? Five centuries? What’s the big deal? But it’s a big deal to us. We get old waiting. Our children grow up and our grandchildren grow old. And then their grandchildren are still waiting. There’s got to be a better answer.

The only answer that feels right to my spirit is found in Matthew 23, verses 31-46. It’s the passage explaining that whatever we do “to the least of these my brothers and sisters,” we do to Jesus himself. It’s not as exciting as angels with trumpets and the sky rolling back like a scroll. But it is a real solution to our dilemma. We can be ready to greet Jesus at any moment by not waiting at all. By expecting the Living Christ to be revealed in every person who touches our lives, we can drop all the impatience and disappointment, and live in the ever-present, eternal Kingdom of God.

Is it time yet? Yes, it’s time.

Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away. But about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. For as the days of Noah were, so will the coming of the Son of Man. For as in t hose days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day Noah entered the ark, and they knew nothing until the flood came and swept them all away, so too will be the coming of the Son of Man . . . Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour. Matthew 24: 35-39, 44.

Loving God, You tell us to be ready for your appearing, since we do not know when the hour will come. Keep us from putting off until another time the discipline that will make us better disciples. Make us willing to break the comfortable routine and dare to start ventures that will test our obedience. Surround us with those who have made a similar commitment, so that they may teach us. Let others see in us your acts of goodness and mercy, so they might also come to know the love of Jesus, through whom we pray, Amen.

Please check in again on Sunday, December 23, for the Fourth Week of Advent.

(To the best of my knowledge, all the animations and graphics used in these Advent meditations are free graphics in public domain. A special "thank you" is due to the United Methodist Committee on Relief, General Board of Global Ministries for the excellent free Advent/Christmas graphics available through their site. )