December 11, 2016: May God’s words alone be spoken, may God’s words alone be heard. Amen.
We are now deep into Advent, especially now that we here at Christ Church have returned this year to the original longer season, so today is the 5th Sunday of Advent. And about now, as evident by the heightened excitement I can see in the faces of the children in our Nursery School, the fact that it is still two whole weeks until Christmas just seems like an eternity (and likely so for the parents).
As one child wrote to Santa:
Dear Santa,
Could you come early this year? I’ve been really super good, but I don’t know if I can last much longer. Please hurry.
Love, Jordan
Or as best expressed every December since 1958 when Alvin and the Chipmunks first sang “The Chipmunk Song.” “We can hardly stand the wait, please Christmas don’t be late!”
It is admittedly not always easy to think about the Advent call for patience, mindfulness, and peace.
The church doesn’t make this easy either. At least not in the Anglican church anyway. This is what is known as “Stir Up” Sunday, which comes from the collect we said this morning, that began “Stir up your power, O Lord, and with great might come among us.” Now, this “Stir Up” Sunday had a double meaning in the days when it was done on the Sunday nearest the start of Advent in the condensed and modern 4 week version – as a reminder about the Christmas pudding, a traditional holiday treat. According to one source, “Since most recipes for Christmas pudding call for the pudding to be kept for several weeks to mature, the day subsequently became connected, in countries which used the Book of Common Prayer, with the preparation of Christmas puddings in readiness for Christmas. Supposedly, cooks, wives and their servants would go to church, hear the words “Stir up, we beseech thee, O Lord …”, and be reminded, by association of ideas, that it was about time to start stirring up the puddings for Christmas.”[1] This stirring was a lot of work, and involved the entire family, but everyone looked forward to the reward on Christmas Day.
The idea of this “Stir Up Sunday” is hilarious – here the church tells everyone to be patient and focus on the baby yet to be born. I mean, even the epistle this morning says “You also must be patient. Strengthen your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is near.” But the church within the liturgy itself, creates a distracting reminder to go do the busy work of cooking. I mean, you can’t make this stuff up.
But perhaps it is in the contradiction itself that we find what we need – at this time of year most of all. Because this is a season of contradictions for many, heightened anticipation and excitement when we are called to be patient and quieter – it can drive the most ADD person, and any child “from 1 to 92,” absolutely mad, when you think about it. And I think our John the Baptist in the Gospel we heard this morning can totally relate to that.
Just last week in the gospel reading, he was a wild eyed, locust dipped in honey eating, prophet in the wilderness – proclaiming to all who would listen that the world was about to be turned on its head. His sense of purpose, his belief, was so strong and intense, that he drew tremendous crowds of followers. And this week…he is in prison, confined to a cell, and there isn’t a lot of things do in there. He was alone with his thoughts.
And after pacing back and forth, as one might imagine a wild guy like John would do when put in a small cell, he sends his followers to Jesus with a question that has been plaguing him: “Are you the one I’ve been waiting for, or shall I wait for another?” Of course, it is framed in the plural of we in the gospel reading, but in truth, it comes from the heart of John. What changed for him? Why this question?
In fairness, this is a full eleven chapters later in the story of Jesus and John, but the question remains – how did we go from “Repent for the kingdom of God has come near” to “Are you the one, or should we wait for another?” See, John the Baptist was expecting, as all the Jewish people were, a radical Messiah that would shake up the world – and they got one too – but not in the way they expected or hoped. This Jesus wasn’t acting as they imagined. There were no calls for rebellion, but for peacemaking. What was up with that? Maybe this guy wasn’t the real deal after all, because people were still living in the darkness of oppression.
If we really think about it, I bet many of us can understand what has happened, at this time of year most of all. Because many are wondering what the heck happened in their lives. For more people than I can even begin to count, 2016 has really been a bad year. Members of this parish have lost loved ones, others have lost jobs or are going through unwanted transitions, still others are in the midst of difficult and painful family strife, and many more are feeling despair and fear in the wake of the election and its aftermath.
Perhaps you are one of them, or have been at one time or another. And when this happens to us, when the God we thought we knew, the God we thought worked in a certain way, the God of our faith, seems so far from what we are experiencing, then our belief and the reality of our lives are at a disconnect. This season itself can seem a macabre cosmic joke – with joy abounding as our hearts are breaking. And, like John the Baptist, we can wonder if God really IS present with us…is Emmanuel, “meaning God is with us” a reality, or just a good baby name.
So how did Jesus respond to John’s question? He said “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.” What kind of answer is that for a guy hoping for revolution? A powerful one, and it is likely John understood it completely. But will we?
I think at the root of understanding his response, is the key to our faith. Jesus is saying that he is there for those who are in distress, for those on the margins, for those who are weak. But this was not to say that Jesus would prevent those things – On the contrary, he later says “the poor will always be with you.” And, John the Baptist wasn’t magically released from prison – he was beheaded. But what Jesus was saying to John, and to us, is that he is present, most of all, to those who are in the darkest times of their lives. That the ones living in the shadows of pain, of sorrow, of loneliness, of physical or emotional difficulty, are not ever forgotten or alone – God is with them first and foremost.
John could now continue in this dark moment of his life in a new way. It did not change the circumstances of his life, but the knowledge that God loved him, loved us all, so much to walk among us – to be present with us in our darkest hours – changed him. And it changes us, even, or perhaps most of all, when we are broken.
I want to share with you a story told by a seminary professor from my alma mater, the Rev. Dr. Heather Murray Elkins, from her book “Holy Stuff of Life.” She begins by asking “What happens…when life discrepancies threaten foundational meaning?” and then continues to describe what happened at the 2004 General Conference of the United Methodist Church. There had been an emotional struggle that had enveloped the Methodist Church, one with which we Episcopalians are certainly familiar – what would be the church’s stance on homosexuality. The delegates, despite the signs that claimed “My child is of sacred worth,” and people with rainbow sashes openly emotional over the struggle, had voted “to make more explicit the church’s position that ‘homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching.’’ Ordination would remain closed to them. She writes that as they then prepared to join at the table for Holy Communion, “there is some singing, but it doesn’t cover the sound of weeping… The service begins; the words of the litugy vibrate in the air. Words that hurt but were intended to heal.” She, like others, went forward to receive the sacrament, but it had changed for her. Then she continues.
“Over the singing there’s the sudden sound of shattering.” An Elder of the church, what we call a priest, had grabbed hold of the chalice and intentionally smashed it to the ground, he had, as she described “deliberately broken a cup of forgiveness.” Dr. Elkins could not shake the sound or the image. She stared at the broken pieces that had been collected and placed back on the table as the business session continued following the service. In the ensuing hours, the broken chalice seemed to divide the people even more. It is a dark time of brokenness – symbolic and real, out of which she begins to sense a call to respond.
She gets the pieces, gathers people, glue, bandages, and hope, and they begin to work on putting it back together. And in a most poignant moment, an invitation is sent – to the Elder who broke it in the first place – to join them in this holy work…and he did. As they labored, it became clear that there were too many pieces missing, the glue was not holding, and they began to ask what I think is a very Advent question, one very much like John’s “…is there enough to bring anything new out of the old?…what is this chalice good for?” It seemed the answer might be nothing. They had managed to form a bowl from the pieces, but it would never be one that could sit atop a stem or hold liquid…it was hard to keep the pieces together at all. But then suddenly one of them disappeared for a moment, and returned with a votive candle. In Dr. Elkins own words, “It is the missing piece. We drip wax on the base and then place the votive right in the middle. The sight makes us all hold our breath. The flickering light shines through the empty spaces, makes the silver sparkle, and the bandages glow. It fills a need that we didn’t know we had, light encountering darkness, and overcoming.”
The story is much more beautifully told, and there is more to it than what I can share with you here today, but it speaks to the Advent questions many of us have in our hearts, “There is so much brokenness – what good can come of this?” You see, John’s question is an Advent question too. “Are you the one I’ve been waiting for, or shall I wait for another?” It is a question that comes out of brokenness, fear, out of loneliness, out of doubt, about what we expect and what we receive, about hope in a time of darkness. And at this time of year, when the joy of the season can elude us, especially after a year like 2016 has been, that Advent question can sound like this: “Are you real Jesus, because I am broken?” “Are you there God, because I cannot feel anything but despair?” “Are you really the hope of the world, or shall I wait for another?”
And it is in these times most of all when we come to hear the answer John received. The answer to our own Advent questions. That faith isn’t about being freed from the trials of life, but about realizing that the Jesus we await in Advent is the one that meets us where we are – not where we hope to be. The One that seeks us out where we truly are – and first and foremost, goes to those who are in fragile and dark places. Perhaps the answer to our Advent questions are found in this line from one of the favorite hymns sung on Christmas Eve, “the hopes and fears of all the years are met in him tonight.”
And so in this time of wonder and light, of joy and song, may we remember the John the Baptists of this world – the ones imprisoned physically, emotionally, spiritually, and be the messengers of Christ that let them know that yes, God is indeed with them, with us, and with the world.
May we also remember in those times when we are the broken chalices, when we can wonder what are we good for, that “the flickering light of Christ will shine through the empty spaces,” our empty spaces, “filling a need that perhaps we didn’t know we had, light encountering darkness, and overcoming.” God doesn’t fix our broken places, but heals us for new life in the knowledge of God’s love.
May we remember all these things, and know that the one we await in Advent was, and is, and will always be, the one we have been waiting for.” Amen.
For the audio from the 10:30am service, click here:
[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stir-up_Sunday
The Rev. Diana L. Wilcox
Christ Church in Bloomfield & Glen Ridge
December 11, 2016
Advent 5 – Year A
1st Reading – Isaiah 35:1-10
Canticle 15
2nd Reading – James 5:7-10
Gospel – Matthew 11:2-11
