On becoming a star--It's in your job description--Just ask John the Baptist

 

Advent 2023

 

“A man named John was sent from God.
He came for testimony, to testify to the light,
so that all might believe through him. 
He was not the light, but came to testify to the light.”
–John 1: 6-8

 

 

Sitting on my front porch, reading the Gospel of John, I was struck by this familiar verse. I heard something new this morning hat I had not heard before: a job description!  This is John the Baptist’s job description.  His job was to testify to the light.  To tell the world what he knew to be true, so that all might believe. Very simple, very straightforward; no complex language about quotas or expectations, no official title, no qualifications, no list of duties—and no terms of severance.  Just the simple and straightforward, open-ended call to testify to the light, with the goal that “all” might believe.

 

Basically John’s job was to be a Burma-Shave sign (a Buc-ees sign for you youngsters out there). He was called to be a road sign pointing the way to The Light. That’s it.  And it occurred to me that his job description doesn’t just apply to John the Baptist.  Doesn’t it actually apply to all of us? Isn’t that the job description of every Christian? We are all called to be a testimony to the Light—to the love of God, to the saving grace of Christ. How we do it isn’t described, isn’t spelled out. Some people may do it through words, others through fasting and prayers, and still others through lives of sacrifice and service.  But the plain truth is we are all called to testify to the light—to live as a sign for others, that they might believe.

 

For most of us, our testimony may go unseen by the vast majority of the world around us.  Our testimony is one of patience and kindness to a stranger: standing in line at the pharmacy, we smile and speak a gentle word to the young mother struggling with her fussing child, or we speak a word of encouragement and cheer to the UPS delivery guy putting packages at our door. Maybe your testimony is to get up at 3 in the morning and walk with a crying baby so that your spouse can sleep. Maybe your testimony is not just to give a $20 bill to the homeless person asking for money, but to also ask his or her name, and to give them your name. Maybe even shake hands and let them know that you will pray for them.  Let them know they are seen, they matter.  

 

For so many of us, our testimony will never make it into a book or even be remembered much beyond the moment, but it will be a testimony, and it will plant a seed, and it may be that when we are all gathered together into that Light, into the Kingdom we call Heaven—you will be greeted by someone you don’t remember, but they will remember you, and that one little act of kindness that lit a spark in their soul... that testimony of love.

 

There is one more thing this little passage reminds me of, especially at Christmas time. And that is a certain star. We see it on so many Christmas cards, but do we ever ponder what it means? It is shining there, above a stable, above a manger, showing us the way.  For the wise-men, that star was a kind of testimony, a road sign, guiding them on their journey.  But even with all its splendor and glory, it wasn’t the actual goal, it was just a sign—a flashing neon testimony to something far greater: a homeless, cold, and exhausted child sleeping in a manger. As we unwrap presents and prepare our holiday tables, let us remember that; the true gift of Christmas is God come to us in the form of a helpless child. Remembering that, pondering it, living it... it will give your life a radiance that will shine for others. It may not get you mentioned at the next Academy Awards or Music Awards, but it can definitely make you a star.  Just ask John the Baptist.

Do not be afraid, some thoughts on the anxious days before Christmas

“Mary, do not be afraid…”

--Luke 1:30

 

For some reason this morning I woke at 5am, wide awake, thinking about baking and presents that need wrapping and even though I wanted to go back to sleep, instead I got up, fed the cats, mixed up dough for bread, and went for a walk, hoping to clear my head.  Outside the world was beautiful and dark, whispers of clouds gathered here and there in the sky and on the horizon. But mostly this beautiful vault of darkness hovered over me, pin-points of starlight here and there, and the bright moon dazzling in its slow descent before the dawn.  It was peaceful and quiet and calming to be out there in the midst of it.  As I walked at the park, I passed a neighbor who stopped to ask me about my upcoming surgery. (Could be that is what woke me...) She wanted to know if I was okay? Was I afraid?

 What a beautiful way to start the day. An angel of mercy come to me out of the darkness to offer a word of kindness and encouragement. And, at this time of year isn’t that just what we all need.   

In the Gospel of Luke there is that famous story of another angel who shows up unannounced with a message that begins in a similar way: Do not be afraid.

 Of course that is a little different from meeting someone in the park. If I was just sitting at the kitchen counter with my morning coffee and a bagel, reading the funny pages (as we used to call them), and an angel appeared next to the refrigerator telling me not to be afraid, I think my gut reaction would be to scream like a little girl. PLUS… that kind of talk doesn’t usually bode well. It’s kind of like when people say: This won’t hurt a bit. You won’t even feel it[1]. 

 And yet, an important part of the angel’s message is in those four words, “Do not be afraid…” and I think perhaps that part of the angel’s message has been missing in my Christmas. Despite all the joyous trappings: the lights, the trees, the decorations, so much of how we celebrate Christmas is wrapped up in fear. Instead of resting in the joy of the season, how often do I find myself anxious and worried; afraid that I’m not doing enough, that perhaps I forgot something, a present for someone, an ingredient in a recipe, the egg nog in the trunk of the car… There is even the overriding fear of not getting everything just right. Not having that “perfect Christmas.”

But the angel says, Do not be afraid. 

 And, this morning as I ponder that message I hear something else.  Something much more personal to each and every one of us, yet particular to the story of Mary. What is she being asked to do? On a very basic level, she is being asked to save the world.  But, how…  Does she need to raise an army? Gain political power? Get rich? Become a martyr? Start a charity? No… She is simply asked to yes to God and to be herself, live her normal daily life, the life of a simple ordinary woman in 1^st century Palestine. To be who she was made to be.  And through that ordinary everyday life, as a wife and mother, as a refugee and a widow, to bear God into the world.  Of course, Mary is asked this in a very specific way, for she will literally bear the child Jesus into the world—first in her womab and then on her hip, in her arms, and at her side.  Wherever she goes, whatever she does. If she goes to the market, she is bearing Him to the market with her.  When she goes to the well to draw water, Christ goes with her. He is present there at the well, in her, through her, with her.  When she sits in quiet contemplating the beauty of a sunset, Christ is there.  Whether lighting a candle, or humming a song, or going to visit a sick friend, Christ is present in her, with her, through her. 

 That is a message for us to remember this Christmas, that –like Mary-- we are all called to be bearers of Christ into the world. We are all called to be God’s hands and face in the world; we have been given that as a gift.  That is the real gift of Christmas—that God is with us… wherever we go, whatever we do, He is with us. So, if you don’t get those lights up, if you forget to buy presents, or if you happen to leave the egg nog in the trunk of the car (for a week), do not be afraid…

 In fact, that is what we were made for.  And so what do we have to be afraid of? In fact, here’s an idea for this Christmas, a gift that needs no wrapping, and no bows:  why don’t we let go of all those fears and worries and rest in the presence of the one who was born this day in a stable in Bethlehem, the one who is with us always—even unto the ends of the age-- and the one whose hands and feet and face and love we are called to be.  If we could do that, instead of being afraid, we might just relax and Rejoice.  

Merry Christmas, my dear friends.

 

 

 

---

[1] If you’ve ever awakened during the middle of a colonoscopy, you’ll understand the importance of anesthesia…

A Christmas box from a friend

 “…one gift replacing another…”

--John 1:16

 

Gift giving has been on my mind lately.  Tis the season, you know.  In particular, I have been thinking about this one friend of ours who has sent us a gift box every year for the past –almost 30 years it seems.  She was a friend of mine in college, and over the years we have kept in touch by phone and mail, but our lives have gone off in their different directions. After college she moved back to Denver. She married, has 3 grown sons and a daughter. My wife and I are godparents to her daughter and she is godmother to one of ours. Like most people, we keep in touch by phone call and Facebook and letters, and remind each other how much we are loved. But, Barb is different from most friends.  She takes this whole friendship thing to another level.  And it includes gift-wrapping!  Every year just before Christmas she sends us a rather large box (or two--sometimes) filled with wrapped presents.  And when I say filled, I mean filled. She sends us a box full of presents; multiple presents for each member of the household. Books, toys, jewelry, clothing, candy, kitchenware, herbs from her garden. I think she even sent the cats a present one year. Each gift is wrapped and labeled, often with a silly note. And, keep in mind, she’s been doing this without fail for almost 30 years now. Some of the presents are silly, but some are beautiful, and so perfect—they seem like gifts from God. 

 

For instance, a couple of years back she gave me a black plastic fountain pen. It came in a goofy retro ‘50s packaging and looked like it was something she may have just tossed in at the last minute—thinking: Herman likes to write. He might have fun with this. And yet, it quickly become my favorite pen—and now, I do all my writing with it.  I think it may have even changed the way I write! The pen seemed to be filled not with ink, but with words, with ideas, with poems, with inspiration. But, I guess what it was actually filled with was love.

 

We joke sometimes about it, but it has become a part of our Christmas that we all look forward to. Not the presents themselves as much as the box! It has become for us a sign of Christmas, of the promise of Christmas. Has the box from Barb arrived yet?

 

There have been years when her gifts were just about the only presents under our tree.  And though we have on occasion reciprocated with boxes of biscotti and books and crafts and other homemade items, we have never met her level of generosity, nor have we ever been as regular and timely.  Yet still, regardless of our efforts, every year, the box from Barb arrives and on Christmas morning we open it with delight.  Her generosity, her constant and abundant generosity came to mind as I was thinking about this phrase from the beginning of John’s Gospel.

 

“…one gift replacing another…”

 

In other translations it reads something like “grace in place of grace already given…” or “grace upon grace.” Gift upon gift… Whichever translation, I hear in it a statement of overflowing abundance and generosity.  A vision of God’s love; a seemingly bottomless box of personally wrapped presents poured forth again and again! As soon as we open one gift, we find another. And if we aren’t happy with that, there is one more and one more after that.

Reading God’s word, I hear not a message of judgment and warning, so much as a message of love and generosity.  Again and again, the prophets remind us of God’s tender love for His creation.  They remind us again and again of His seemingly endless mercy and the abundance of His grace, His love for His creation. Each time we fail, we stumble and fall, He is there to lift us up and offer us again some new sign of His love, always replacing one gift with another, one grace with another, one covenant laid over another.  Until finally He gives Himself wholly and utterly into our hands. Taking upon Himself all our sins—our stumbles and falls, our rejection of His many gifts—He becomes the gift itself. Unexpected, undeserved, He is the gift.

 

Like that box from Barbara, that box overflowing with gift upon gift, God’s love comes to us grace upon grace and here at Christmas we are called to come together in joy over the abundance of God’s love.  It comes to us again and again, renewed again and again in great and small ways alike—even in the simplest and humblest gifts, individually wrapped and waiting for us to open with delight.  It may look like a Pez dispenser or a bookmark or a box of tea, a pair of socks, or even a newborn baby in a borrowed manger. Thank you Barb for helping me remember, the gift is always love.

Christmas... Again?

 ’What do you want me to do for you?’

‘Sir,’ he replied, ‘let me see again.’”

--Luke 18:41

 

 

Entering Jericho, approaching Jerusalem, near the end of His ministry, Jesus is stopped by a blind man begging beside the road. The crowd has told the blind man to leave Jesus alone, but he only cries out the louder. Hearing his cry, Jesus stops and asks him what he wants, and the man replies:

            “Let me see again.”

 

And Jesus restores his sight. 

 

Again.

 

Again.  That word is what stood out to me this morning as I did my reading.  How many times have I come to God asking to be forgiven “again.”  How many times have I come to God asking to be healed “again?”  How many times have I come asking for help “again?” Asking God to help me see His will, His love, His grace, His presence… Am I not constantly, in one way o another, asking God to let me see again?

 

In the stillness of this quiet morning, let me see Your grace.  In the weird way my daughter loves turtles, let me see Your love for all creation.  Even in my struggles and failings, Lord, let me see Your will.  In the flat tire or the broken alternator let me see Your hand.  In my loneliness and sorrow, let me see Your cross.  In the homeless man walking through traffic, begging for help, let me always see Your face.   

 

Let me see again.

 

Isn’t that the point of Christmas?  To open our eyes. To let us see again…  There had been a time when God walked with man in the shade of the garden.  There had been a time when He went before us –leading us-- as a pillar of cloud, and followed behind –protecting us—as a pillar of fire.  Or when God was seen face to face by Moses, or witnessed in a still small sound by Elijah… God’s glory had been seen or felt in so many ways… But time and again we are blinded by our own glory, by our own worries, our own jealous desires. 

 

And so, He came again. Not in the pillar of smoke or the pillar of flame, not in some mysterious symbolic action or strange radiance or shekinah glory. But in the flesh. As a tiny baby in a simple manger, humble, vulnerable, like one of us… like ALL of us.  And for all to see, again.

 

And again… This year, as you prepare for Christmas take a moment to pray the prayer of this blind man on the road to Jericho.  The crowds may be telling you not to bother with God. The crowds may be telling you to worry more about last minute shopping, and packages and Christmas cards and delivery dates and long lines at the UPS store.  But, don’t listen to the crowd.  For they too are blind.

 

Instead, take a moment to still your heart, pause all the preparations, and the gift-wrapping and cookie baking, and the Hallmark movie marathons, and just sit down for a moment, someplace quiet and still. Light a candle.  Take a moment away from all the busy-ness and close your eyes to all the distractions.  Take a breath and be still. And wait… He is coming. Truly.  In the stillness, can you hear Him?  He is on His way. Now, whisper the blind man’s simple prayer:  Lord, let me see again.

 

 

Of altars and sacred stones and dispossession

“You must completely destroy all the places where
the nations you dispossess have served their gods…
you must tear down their altars, smash their sacred
stones…hack to bits the statues of their gods and
obliterate their names from that place.” –Deuteronomy 12:2-3

The Israelites were being sent by God to “dispossess” other nations of their lands and to dwell there.  But in this call, they were also being called to act as a kind of purifying agent.  They were called to go to this new land and tear down the altars, smash the sacred stones, hack to bits the statues and obliterate the names of these false gods from that place. To purify that place. 

            On a literal level this call horrifies our diversity sensitive ears. We shudder at the very idea of knocking down someone else’s gods.  Instead, in the name of sensitivity and diversity, we tend to look for ways to affirm and celebrate those beliefs and acknowledge their equality and validity. All in the name of avoiding conflict and promoting peaceful co-existence.  Anyway, who am I to knock over someone else’s idols and tear down their altars? What right do I have to tell someone else what to believe?

            And yes, there is some value in this attitude. Some value in acknowledging that we do not (personally or communally) possess a stranglehold on truth.  Plus, we can’t just walk into someone else’s home and start obliterating the names of their gods from the altars and stones and walls and poles of their home; not if we don’t want to start a war, at least.

            Clearly in the time of which Deuteronomy speaks that was literally a part of God’s plan. In this story, that was definitely included as part of the dispossessing and purifying plan God was laying before His people. 

            So, if we are not being called to actual war by this passage, what does it say to us today? What “land” are we called to dispossess? What altars and statues and sacred stones are we called to smash and what false gods are we called to obliterate?

            For me, the first thing to do with scripture is to accept that if it is the Word of God, then it truly does contain eternal truths.  And second, if God truly is love and truly loves each and every one of us, numbers even every hair on our heads, then I would tend accept that God is truly speaking to us through His word and He is truly speaking to each and every one of us.  And I would definitely take His words very personally.

            So, what do these words say to me –personally?  Well, I’ve been meditating on St. Joseph lately and so I return to that contemplation and see how these words help me understand Joseph or how Joseph’s example helps me understand better these words. 

            So, here goes: Joseph had a home, a career, a sense of place in his community, a reputation as an honorable and just man, and to that he had hopes for his new bride and coming life with Mary.  There was security and comfort and safety in this life, but God had something else in mind; a very different kind of life—the life of a refugee, of a step-father, of a cuckold even, --a life of complete self-surrrendering (it seems). Looking at it from my perspective, it looks like a life of letting go; letting go of personal dreams, letting go of career objectives and life goals. It looks like God is calling Joseph to dispossess himself of the lands of comfort and safety and independence and to obliterate any personal gods such as pleasure and security, and to put himself completely into God’s hands. Let go of those gods, smash them and hack them to bits and put your trust in Me.  I will bring you into a land of dependence, and vulnerability, a land that looks to the world like shame and foolishness, and you may not even live to see the fulfillment, to understand the reason (the point) for this life.  You will simply have to trust me… completely.  Will you let go of your gods, your altars, your sacred stones and come with me?

            So –where have I built altars to my personal gods of ego and pride and pleasure and safety and comfort? Where have I set up sacred stones to honor them?  What are the personal beliefs/desires/dreams that I hold sacred? Are there certain topics I simply won’t be challenged on? Politics? Money? Morality? Poetry? Art? Thin crust extra garlic pizza? Hmmm.

You see, for me, I don’t hear God talking about someone else and their false gods, their sacred stones… I hear Him talking to me.  About my gods...  I really do take His words very personally.