Wednesday 18 December 2013

On being able to "get" Christmas: a sermon (Christmas Eve, John 1:1-14)

Christmas is a time when all sorts of things come together.
  • On the one hand, it is one of the three most important occasions each year in the worship calendar of the Christian faith.
  • On the other hand, it is a day when people of "all sorts and conditions", both religious and non-religious, enjoy a day of fun and festivity.
Many people are confused by these two facts and some are offended.  In fact, some Christians really get their unmentionables all knotted up at this time of year.  Personally, I think it's great that one of the year's most significant days of Christian worship is also our culture's most significant day of general celebration.

However, in over thirty years of ministry, one thing that's become crystal clear to me is the fact that the more intensely "religious" sort of Christian often just doesn't "get" Christmas.  They "do" Christmas because it's about Jesus, but many don't really "get" Christmas.  And, in fact, I'll go so far as to say that, if there is a "War on Christmas", it's not being waged by people outside the Christian faith, but by some well-meaning Christians who just don't "get" Christmas.

Anyway, to enable us to really "get' Christmas, I believe there are three things we need to be aware of:
  1. All people are part of the one humanity. 
  2. God is closely related to our one humanity
  3. Knowing that God is closely related to our one humanity helps us to realise that all people are part of the one humanity.

First of all,
1.  All people are part of the one humanity.

The theologian Reinhold Niebuhr once wrote a prayer that affirmed that God has "bound ... [all people] together in this bundle of life". 
 
Martin Luther King said the same thing in an extended metaphor that found its way into many of his sermons and speeches.  He said:

We are tied together in life and in the world.  And you may think you got all you have by yourself.  But, you know, before you went to church today, you were dependent on more than half the world.

You get up in the morning and go to the bathroom, and you reach over for a bar of soap, and that's handed to you by a Frenchman.  You reach over for a sponge, and that's given to you by a Pacific Islander.  You reach over for a towel, and that comes to your hand from the hands of a Turk.

And then you go on to the kitchen to get your breakfast.  You get a coffee, and that's poured into your cup by a South American.  Or maybe you decide you want tea this morning, only to discover that it's poured into your cup by a Chinese.  Or maybe you want cocoa, that's poured into your cup by a West African.  Then you want toast, and the bread is given to you by the hands of an English-speaking farmer,  not to mention the baker.

Before you finish eating breakfast in the morning, you're dependent on more than half the world.

That's the way God structured it; that's the way God structured the world.  So let us be concerned about others because we are dependent on others.

End of quote.

John Donne said much the same thing when he declared that anyone's death "diminishes me, for I am involved in humanity. ... Therefore, send not to ask for whom the bell tolls.  It tolls for thee."

However, there are many who try to tell us that we are not all "bound ... together in this bundle of life".  Tragically, there are many people who feel their human concern need not be for all humanity, but merely for a limited portion of humanity:
  • merely for those of the same faith,
  • merely for those of a similar skin colour,
  • merely for those who speak the same language,
  • merely for those who hold the same citizenship.
People who believe this may not necessarily be bad people.  People who believe this may not necessarily be stupid people.  However, people who believe their human concern need not be for all humanity are plainly and simply wrong.  W-R-O-N-G. ... Full stop. ... Game, set, and match. ... Thank you, linespeople; thank you ball kids. ... The fat lady is singing. ... All people are part of the one humanity, and those who cannot accept this are plainly and simply wrong.

I hope I didn't mince my words here.  We are all "bound ... together in this bundle of life".

All people are part  of the one humanity.

But, not only that,
2.  God is closely related to our one humanity.

And here's where Christmas comes in.

In the early 1990s, there was a pop song that asked the question:  "What if God was one of us; ... just a slob like one of us; ... just a stranger on the bus?"  And, even given the colourful imagery of the song, this is profoundly what the Christian faith has believed for most of its history.

John's gospel speaks of how "the Word became flesh and lived among us ...".  In the birth of Jesus, the eternal creativity of the living God became one with humanity.  It is not a matter of some remote, aloof god whom people have to strive and struggle to relate to.  Instead, we celebrate that God took the initiative to relate to us; that God became one of us.

This is something that the more intensely "religious" sort of Christian can have real problems with.  It makes the whole God thing seem far too easy.  There are:
  • no religious disciplines to adopt,
  • no worldly pleasures to sacrifice,
  • no doctrinal statement to assent to.
There's merely the celebration that God has taken the initiative to relate to humanity:  "the Word became flesh and lived among us ...".  I believe all this is the main reason why the more intensely "religious" sort of Christian frequently just doesn't "get" Christmas.

Still, for those of us who are Christians, but who aren't of the more intensely "religious" sort, this is good news.  As well, it's good news for all people:  "the Word became flesh and lived among us ...".

God is closely related to our humanity.

And, as they say in advertisements on TV for steak knives, "and there's more".
3.  Knowing that God is closely related to our one humanity helps us to realise that all people are part of the one humanity.

John's gospel said  "the Word became flesh and lived among us ...".  That's all.  It just says "flesh".  It doesn't say what kind of flesh.
  • It didn't say "the Word became white flesh.  It just said "the Word became flesh".
  • It didn't say "the Word became male flesh.  It just said "the Word became flesh".
  • It didn't say "the Word became Christian flesh.  It just said "the Word became flesh".
  • It didn't say "the Word became Australian flesh ... or English-speaking flesh .... or heterosexual  flesh.  It just said "the Word became flesh".
John's gospel says "the Word became flesh".  God's love and concern are given to all humanity, not merely to a limited section of the human family.  God's love and concern are for all of us, not just some of us.
 
Knowing that God is closely related to our one humanity helps us to realise that all people are part of the one humanity.
And so therefore,
  • All people are part of the one humanity.
  • God is closely related to our one humanity.
  • Knowing that God is closely related to our one humanity helps us to realise that all people are part of the one humanity.
If we are aware of this, we are able to "get" Christmas.

Monday 16 December 2013

A Tale of Two Worlds: a sermon (Service of Lessons and Carols)

The story of Jesus’ birth is told twice in the Bible, in Luke’s gospel and in Matthew’s gospel. When we compare the story of Jesus’ birth in Luke with the story of the same event in Matthew, we find two very different stories.
  • Wise Men follow a star in Matthew, but we find neither Wise Men nor a star in Luke.
  • Angels tell the good news to shepherds in Luke. In Matthew, there are no shepherds, and the only angels in the story are those who periodically bring Joseph up to speed on what’s really going on.
  • There’s a census and a stable in Luke, but not in Matthew. 
  • There’s a massacre of babies and an escape to Egypt in Matthew, but not in Luke.
They are two different stories.
 
But not only are they like two different stories. It seems as if they are set in two different worlds. Matthew tells his story of Jesus’ birth in a much more sombre way than does Luke.
  • Luke’s story of Jesus’ birth seems a bit like an opera or a Broadway musical. Whenever anything important happens in these first two chapters, someone breaks into song. 
  • Matthew’s story of Jesus’ birth is more like an old-time evangelical sermon, peppered with scripture quotes whenever an important point is made.  
Jesus is born into a world whose secular power is a much more threatening force in Matthew’s gospel than in Luke.
  • In Luke, the government is a rather benign force. The Roman Emperor called a census which, providentially, put Mary and Joseph in the right place at the right time for Jesus’ birth.
  • In Matthew, the government was seen in the person of King Herod, a violent, redneck king who was imposed on the Jews by the Romans. Herod ordered the murder of the children of Bethlehem, forcing Jesus, Mary, and Joseph to become refugees in Egypt.
The religious community seems both more faithful and much more human in Luke than in Matthew.
  • In Luke, there are those figures of Zechariah and Elizabeth, and of Simeon and Anna, appearing both before and after the account of Jesus’ birth. They illustrate the many people throughout the centuries, both ordinary and extraordinary, who lived their lives expectantly, with faith and with integrity.
  • In Matthew, the religious community itself was part of the problem. The religious scholars were part of Herod’s hangers-on. They had sold out their faith to Herod, perhaps in a similar way to the way in which members of the “Religious Right” in the United States (and to some extent in this country) have sold out their faith to some very scary people. Herod’s tame theologians told the king that Bethlehem was the place to send his death squads.
Even the important figure of Joseph comes off a lot more gently in Luke’s gospel than in Matthew.
  • In Luke, Joseph was just there for Mary and the child, no questions asked.
  • In Matthew, Joseph was reviewing his options. And some of his options were terrible indeed. In the Middle East in ancient days (and even in some parts of the Middle East today), a man had the power of life and death over a wife or fiancĂ©e whom he suspected of straying. Joseph didn’t choose the more violent option, but Matthew gives us the impression he thought about it.
In short, Luke gives us a picture of Jesus being born into a providential world, a world populated by faith-filled, grace-filled, integrity-filled people.  On the other hand, Matthew gives us a picture of Jesus being born into a threatening world, a violent world, a world where dictators ruled and were given spiritual support by their tame theologians.  In which story is the truth?
 
The truth is in both stories. 
  • Jesus was born into that threatening, violent world described by Matthew, but he was born into that world for a good reason.
  • He was born into that world to call forth a community of faith-filled, grace-filled, integrity-filled people such as we find in Luke’s story. 
  • Jesus was born into the world described by Matthew, the world where Herod ruled, to transform us into the sort of people who inhabit the world described by Luke; faith-filled, grace-filled, integrity-filled people.
And Christmas is about transformation. All of the best secular Christmas stories, from Scrooge to the Grinch, are about the power of the Christmas event to transform our lives into something better, something more generous, something more open.
There is this strong cultural message that the season itself brings out our better nature.  For us as worshipping Christians, we can take this all a step further. It’s not merely the season. We can say that the whole process of Jesus taking our human nature as one of us brings out humanity’s better nature, for us all and for the sake of the entire world.
  • When Jesus embraced our human nature as one of us, he enabled us to become Nelson Mandela-like people in the midst of a Kim Jong-Un world.
  • When Jesus embraced our human nature as one of us, he enabled us to become Malala Yousafzai-like people in the midst of a Miley Cyrus world.
  • When Jesus embraced our human nature as one of us, he enabled us to become Mary MacKillop-like people in the midst of a Gina Rinehart world.
  • When Jesus embraced our human nature as one of us, he enabled us to become Martin Luther King-like people in the midst of a Rupert Murdoch world.
  • When Jesus embraced our human nature as one of us, he enabled us to become Mother Theresa-like people in the midst of an Ayn Rand world.
  • When Jesus embraced our human nature as one of us, he enabled us to become Pope Francis-like people in the midst of a Scott Morrison world.
By taking our humanity upon himself, Jesus brings out humanity’s better nature, for us all and for the sake of the entire world.
And this process of transformation all began two thousand years ago, on that night when Jesus was born into a threatening world, but born to transform that world and its people into something better. Jesus was born into the world we hear of in Matthew’s story to transform us into the people we hear of in Luke’s story. 
 
In John’s gospel, we do not get a narrative of the birth of Jesus, but we hear an ancient Christian poem in celebration of the Word made Flesh in Jesus; the Word made Flesh to transform our lives into something better, something more generous, something more open.
And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth. … From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.
 
And so, to all of us, as we continue to prepare for Christmas, I wish:
  • a Merry Christmas,
  • a holy Christmas,
  • the wisdom to know that true merriment and true holiness are never in conflict, and
  • the resolve to be faith-filled, grace-filled, integrity-filled people, both in the New Year of twenty-fourteen and throughout our lives.

Friday 13 December 2013

Called to rejoice: a sermon (Isaiah 35:1-10, Matthew 11:2 -11)

On this Third Sunday of Advent, we are called to rejoice in God’s activity. 

The Latin name for this day, “Gaudete Sunday”, comes from the word for rejoicing.  In the opening words of our lesson from Isaiah, we hear a statement that even the very desert will rejoice in God’s activity.

Both in our lesson from Isaiah and in our Gospel lesson from Matthew, concrete reasons for rejoicing were listed, with some similarities in the lists.

In Isaiah, we hear these causes for rejoicing:

Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened,
      and the ears of the deaf unstopped;
then the lame shall leap like a deer,
      and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy.

In our Gospel lesson, we hear Jesus give a “progress report” to the messengers sent by John the Baptist, messengers who arrived with the critical question, "Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?"

Jesus responded by giving the messengers a list of accomplishments, a list that echoed Isaiah’s list, and telling them to share this with John: 

"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."

But these lists of accomplishments were not merely special effects for their own sake.  They were for the sake of the wholeness of people, and the wholeness of the entire world.  As we heard in Isaiah:

Strengthen the weak hands,
      and make firm the feeble knees.
Say to those who are of a fearful heart,
      "Be strong, do not fear!
Here is your God. ...
      He will come and save you."

And so, we are called to rejoice at God’s activity to promote the wholeness of humanity, and the wholeness of the entire world.  And as we approach the Christmas celebration more and more closely, our sense of rejoicing increases. 

And there is a real parallel between the joy of the worshipping church and the joy of the wider community at this time.  It’s a parallel that many people haven’t noticed.

For many people in our community, there is this notion that the celebrations of this time of year somehow bring out our better nature.  Being exposed to the celebrations of Christmas and all the related activities somehow make us better people:  more generous, more hospitable, more joyful. 

This is the theme of just about any good secular Christmas story:
·        Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol,
·        Dr. Seuss’s children’s book How the Grinch Stole Christmas,
·        such films as It’s a Wonderful Life and Miracle on 34th Street,
·        and so on.
There is this strong cultural message that the season itself brings out our better nature.

For us as worshipping Christians, we can affirm all this and take this all a step further.  It’s not merely the season.  We can say that the whole process of Jesus taking our human nature as one of us brings out humanity’s better nature, for us all and for the sake of the entire world.
·        When Jesus embraced our human nature as one of us, he enabled us to become Nelson Mandela-like people in the midst of a Kim Jong-Un world.
·        When Jesus embraced our human nature as one of us, he enabled us to become Malala Yousafzai-like people in the midst of a Miley Cyrus world.
·        When Jesus embraced our human nature as one of us, he enabled us to become Mary MacKillop-like people in the midst of a Gina Rinehart world.
·        When Jesus embraced our human nature as one of us, he enabled us to become Martin Luther King-like people in the midst of a Rupert Murdoch world.
·        When Jesus embraced our human nature as one of us, he enabled us to become Mother Theresa-like people in the midst of an Ayn Rand world.
·        When Jesus embraced our human nature as one of us, he enabled us to become Pope Francis-like people in the midst of a Scott Morrison world.

By taking our humanity upon himself, Jesus brings out humanity’s better nature, for us all and for the sake of the entire world.  As we are told by many early Christian writers, in Christ, God became one of us to make us one with God.

So we are called to rejoice.

And one practical way we can share in God’s self-giving to the entire world is through the Christmas Bowl.  As we participate in the Christmas Bowl, congregations like this one, all over Australia, are enabled to share their life with communities around the world in terms of health, education, safe water, agricultural science, and many similar areas of concern.

Our focus project this year involves our work in enabling education for girls and young women in Afghanistan.  Only 13% of women in Afghanistan are literate.  Communities with low levels of female literacy are also communities with high levels of poverty.  By promoting the education of girls, the Christmas Bowl promotes the well-being of the whole community. 

Through this project, and through many others like it, you are enabled to be neighbours to communities around the world through the Christmas Bowl.

At this time of year, we are called to rejoice, and to recognise that Jesus taking on our human nature brings out the best in our shared humanity, for our sake, and for the sake of the entire world.

Strengthen the weak hands,
      and make firm the feeble knees.
Say to those who are of a fearful heart,
      "Be strong, do not fear!
Here is your God. ...
      He will come and save you."

Sunday 8 December 2013

Possible words for a greeting for use in services on major festivals.

This is a greeting that may be used at the beginning of worship after the call to worship /  introduction to the theme of the service / etc. on any of the great Christian festivals such as Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, or Easter Day, when the congregation is a mixture of regular worshippers, visitors from other congregations, and non-frequent worshippers. 

On such days, it is important for non-frequent worshippers to feel that they are part of the worshipping congregation.  It is also important for the regular congregation to feel that those who are not weekly worshippers are not intruders on the gathering for worship. 

Please use these (or similar words) as a way of
  • encouraging non-frequent worshippers to feel welcome within the congregation, and
  • encouraging regular worshippers to feel less resentful regarding the presence of non-frequent worshippers.


(After the call to worship, opening hymn, etc.:)

We extend a warm welcome to all who are attending this service of worship, whether you are:
·        a regular worshipper within this congregation,
·        a regular worshipper elsewhere,
·        someone who may not be a frequent worshipper anywhere, but for whom worship on this day is an important part of your life each year,
·        someone who is accompanying a family member or friend to worship, or
·        someone for whom worship in any church may be a completely new experience for you,

To everyone, it’s great that you’re here, and may this time of worship be an opportunity for renewed faith for each of us.

(The service continues as per the normal order of worship.)

Friday 6 December 2013

Bearers of Hope: thoughts following the death of Nelson Mandela

One of my thoughts on hearing of the death of Nelson Mandela was to think those who are bearers of hope in the midst of our world in a similar way to the way Mandela was. 

Of the two most obvious, one is a man of whom most of us hadn't heard before March of this year. 

The other is a young woman of whom most of us hadn't heard before October of last year.

RIP Nelson Mandela. 
May he rest in peace and rise in glory.

Pope Francis lives!

Malala Yousafzai lives!

To paraphrase the classic words of Julia Ward Howe, "Glory, glory, alleluia, their hope is marching on!"

Monday 2 December 2013

The Messy Middle (a sermon: Isaiah 11:1–10; Romans 15:4–13; Matthew 3:1-12)

You may remember the words of the old rock and roll song from the early 1970s:

Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right,
Here I am, stuck in the middle with you.

In many ways, this is the experience of mainstream churches in twenty-thirteen.

Clowns to the left of us, jokers to the right,
Here we are, stuck in the middle ...

On one side, we find religious communities – Christian or otherwise - that are sure that their particular spin on religious faith is right, and that every one else’s particular spin on religious faith is wrong.

On another side, we find some very influential voices in our society who rubbish religion of all sorts, who lampoon religion of all sorts.  They are those who tell us that religion (and Christianity, in particular) is the source of all humanity’s woes; as if Hitler was all that religious; or as if Stalin was all that religious; or Pol Pot.

If the one lot we call religious fundamentalists, the other lot we can call secular fundamentalists.

If the one lot says “All religious faiths are wrong and stupid, except mine”; the other lot says “All religious faiths are wrong and stupid ... full stop.”

Clowns to the left of us, jokers to the right,
Here we are, stuck in the middle ...

It is our spiritual vocation to inhabit “the messy middle” (1), without the cock-sure certainties of those who proclaim “All religious faiths are wrong and stupid, except mine”, and without the cock-sure certainties of those who proclaim “All religious faiths are wrong and stupid ... full stop.”

It is our task to be passionately affirmative about our way of being people of faith, without being negative about other people’s ways of being people of faith (and without being negative about those who live their lives well without being people of any sort of religious faith). 

It’s not an easy task.   Those of us whom God calls to inhabit the “messy middle” need to cope with the grey areas of less theological, ethical, or moral certainty.

Clowns to the left of us, jokers to the right,
Here we are, stuck in the middle ...

Our lessons for this Second Sunday of Advent give us some clues for the task ahead of us.

In our gospel lesson, we see the figure of John the Baptist.  John was a person with a highly austere lifestyle.  (Today, we could say that John has scored the austerity trifecta:  vegetarian, teetotal, and celibate.)  He also had an uncompromising message of God’s requirements for those who would enter his Kingdom.

Jesus never embraced the austerity of John’s lifestyle.  Jesus proclaimed a much more inclusive vision of God’s kingdom than did John.  But Jesus still spoke of John the Baptist with great respect.      

The average member of the people of God is not called by God to embrace all the austerities of John the Baptist.  But, in every generation, including our own, the people of God need a few of the direct “in-your-face” prophetic types such as John.  This is so, whether they exist on the “left” or the “right” of the theological spectrum.  They help keep the rest of us on our theological toes; whether they call us to a greater boldness in sharing our faith or to a greater boldness in working for social justice. 

However irritating they may be at times, we need our John-the-Baptist-types.    

But the people of God also need those who challenge the “in-your-face” John-the-Baptist types to ease up, to lighten up, to seek a more humane balance in their faith.

In our lesson from Romans, we see something very different from John the Baptist.  On one hand, Paul wrote as someone who loved his own tradition deeply:  “For whatever was written in former days was written for our encouragement, so that by steadfastness and by the encouragement of the scriptures we might have hope.”

On the other hand, though, Paul approached his tradition with the hand of one who knows that the tradition needs to be broadened.  He knew that the Gentiles have been included within the people of God in the whole Christ event.  He celebrated this inclusion, and he highlighted those parts of his tradition that supported this inclusion.  (And he laid aside those parts of his tradition that did not.)

Paul was being a very contemporary person of faith here.  Theologically, Paul showed himself as an inhabitant of the “messy middle”, as one who loved his tradition passionately but who saw the task of inclusion as an urgent priority.

And people of faith today need to be about this same task:
·         emphasising those aspects of our faith traditions that are life-giving;
·         laying aside those aspects of our faith traditions that are not life-giving;
·         being willing to argue the point robustly as to which aspects of our traditions are life-giving or not;
·         being willing to stand corrected, at times.

It’s not an easy task inhabiting the “messy middle”

Clowns to the left of us, jokers to the right,
Here we are, stuck in the middle ...

Isaiah’s vision in our first lesson proclaims to us that all these difficulties are well worth it.  Last week’s lesson had one of Isaiah’s great visual images of swords being hammered into ploughshares; spears being bent into pruning-hooks; weapons of death becoming tools for life.


Today we have another of Isaiah’s great word pictures.  The profound peace of God extends into the animal kingdom, so that all the creatures of the earth shall lie down together in peace and harmony. 

The wolf shall live with the lamb,
the leopard shall lie down with the kid,
the calf and the lion and the fatling together,
and a little child shall lead them.

In the early 19th century, an American Quaker artist named Edward Hicks painted a series of many paintings on this passage.  He gave the series the name “The Peaceable Kingdom”.  The paintings were in a naive, almost primitive style, with the animals having a human quality to their faces, looking rather philosophical – as if they were pondering the mysteries of life at a Quaker meeting. 

The paintings capture the radical nature of Isaiah’s vision.


And it is this vision of wholeness that enables us to keep on struggling here in the “messy middle”:
·         Despite those who say “All religious faiths are wrong and stupid ... full stop”; and who call us to abandon all faith; we know there’s something much, much more to life.
·         Despite those who say “All religious faiths are wrong and stupid, except mine”, and who call us to abandon our style of faith for a more exclusive approach to the life of faith; we know there’s something much, much more to God.

We still hear this vision of God’s peace breaking out in God’s world.  With the vision, we also have God’s call to keep struggling as God’s people in the “messy middle”.

It’s not an easy task.   Those of us whom God calls to inhabit the “messy middle” need to cope with the grey areas of less theological, ethical, or moral certainty.  In the midst of these grey areas, we can discover the good news of God’s inclusive love for the whole creation.

Clowns to the left of us, jokers to the right,
Here we are, stuck in the middle ... with God.

***

(1)   The notion of the "Messy Middle" to describe those of us committed to a mainstream, ecumenical faith is not original to me.  In particular, Avril Hannah-Jones is one person who has worked with this idea recently.

Tuesday 26 November 2013

The Hopes and Fears of all the Years (a sermon: Isaiah 2:1-5; Matthew 24:36-44)

When I was serving my second ministry placement, in Westbury, in the mid-1980s, an elderly woman in the Westbury congregation told me about some of the goings-on in Westbury during her youth.  The lady was nearly a hundred when she told me this story, and she died at a hundred-and-three with all her faculties intact.  She lived all her life in the same town.

Her story happened at the time when the nineteenth century was becoming the twentieth.  A local minister, serving what was then the Westbury Wesleyan Methodist Church, which later became the Westbury Uniting Church, ... one of my predecessors, ... this minister developed some strong – and eccentric - views about the Second Coming, particularly about when this event was to take place.  (Essentially, he believed it would happen very soon.)    

He persuaded a few of the members of his congregation to share his views.  On the day they believed the event was to take place, they gathered on the top of a nearby mountain.  They wore white robes, made (so I’m told) from bed linen.  They waited ... and waited ... and waited for the Second Coming.  Then, after it was obvious that the Second Coming wasn’t going to happen that day, they went home.  Conference took a dim view of the proceedings and the pastoral relationship was quickly dissolved.

Having spent most of my ministry in Tasmania, a big part of me finds it very hard to imagine a group of sceptical, pragmatic Tasmanian Methodist farmers falling for this sort of thing, but the old lady who told me the story was definitely in possession of all her mental faculties.  I believe her story.  (The Westbury Church has a “rogues gallery” with photos of former ministers, along with their dates of service.  The fellow at the time when the nineteenth century became the twentieth had both a sufficiently brief tenure and a sufficiently wild look in the eyes to fit the bill.)

A few generations later, during the period of the Cold War, from the end of the Second World War until the fall of the Berlin Wall, again there was an increased obsession on the part of some Christians with looking for “signs of the end” in current events. 

This was a time when the whole world was facing destruction by a superpower nuclear exchange on a daily basis.  Many of us who grew up during the Cold War were convinced that such a superpower nuclear exchange would be how our own lives would end.  I believe that one reason many “Baby Boomers” – members of my own generation - did not make adequate financial provision for retirement was that many “Baby Boomers” as young adults believed that Mr. Reagan and Mr. Brezhnev would not allow us to survive to reach retirement age. 

And, in that whole climate of fear, a certain subculture within the Christian churches believed that the end of the world was at hand, and tried to demonstrate this by taking passages of Scriptures out of context and comparing them with current events.  In this bizarre worldview, such events as the establishment of the United Nations, the European Union, and the state of Israel (along with the development of product barcodes in shops and supermarkets) were all seen to be “signs of the end”.  Many best-selling books were written from the perspective of this worldview.  These books frightened many people, and made their authors very wealthy.

At the beginning of Advent, we always hear passages of scripture that focus on the climax of human history.  These passages are often rather problematic for preaching and teaching.  As they have been used so much as the playground of the religiously unstable, they are often ignored by those of us who try to present Christianity as a faith in which critically-minded people can believe with intelligence and integrity.  But then, if we abandon these texts to the wild-and-wacky religious fringe, we make these passages even more difficult for contemporary people to hear.

In our lessons, we are taught some important things:

We are taught not to become obsessive about the future.  Our gospel lesson begins with Jesus saying that the future is firmly in God’s hands.  “But about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.”   Seeking to predict the future is something that Jesus has strongly discouraged. 

We are taught to live with hope and with integrity in uncertain times.  Earlier in this chapter, Jesus told the disciples not to be distracted from the task at hand by “wars and rumours of wars”.  In today’s lesson, Jesus tells us to “Keep awake”.  The opportunities for service in uncertain times are immense.  Don’t worry about the future, but wake up, and make a difference in the present. 

We are taught that God’s future is a future of hope, peace, and wholeness for all people.  Isaiah’s great vision of peace in our lesson has been an inspiration for many people.  Swords are beaten to ploughshares.  Spears become pruning hooks.  Weapons of death become tools for life. 

This vision inspired a statue which greets visitors to the United Nations building in New York.  A gift to the UN from the former Soviet Union, the statue shows a large, muscular bloke (possibly even one of Karl Marx’s “workers of the world”) making a good job of beating a rather menacing-looking sword into quite a useful-looking plough.


This vision also inspired the great Scots paraphrase which we’ll sing following this sermon:

No strife shall rage, nor hostile feuds
disturb those peaceful years;
to ploughshares nations beat their swords,
to pruning-hooks their spears.

No longer hosts encountering hosts
shall crowds of slain deplore;
they hang the trumpet in the hall
pursuing war no more.

Swords are beaten to ploughshares.  Spears become pruning hooks.  Weapons of death become tools for life. 

This image of radical wholeness is the message of hope in God’s future which we are called to proclaim as we begin Advent, not some eccentric message that is obsessed with ascribing hidden meanings – almost occult meanings - to world events.  Both in our lesson from the Hebrew Scriptures and from the gospel, there is an equally strong message that the best days of our world are ahead of us, not behind us.

In Advent, as we prepare once again to share the good news of Christ’s birth in our midst, and in the midst of “the hopes and fears of all the years”, we share a word of hope with our community and with our world.  The best days of our world are ahead of us, not behind us.

May we be alert and awake as we do so:
·         alert to the dangers of corrupting our word of hope into a word of fear,
·         awake to the possibilities of God’s grace breaking in to our world in unexpected times and unexpected places.

(originally published on 25 November 2013, updated)

Friday 22 November 2013

Christmas: a time of ethical transformation

One area where the Christian and secular dimensions of our Christmas celebrations come together in a profound way is in the theme of Christmas as a time of ethical transformation.  There is this notion that our celebrations of Christmas in and of themselves have the power to bring forth our better selves.

This idea began in Charles Dickens story A Christmas Carol, the story of Ebenezer Scrooge.  Scrooge was a miser, and he was also a man who refused to celebrate Christmas.  (And those two facts were closely related.)  His response to Christmas, as well as to anything else that would encourage any spark of generosity in him, was always “Bah, Humbug!”

At the beginning of the story, we hear this about Scrooge:

“Oh! But he was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, Scrooge! a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner!  Hard and sharp as flint, from which no steel had ever struck out generous fire; secret, and self-contained, and solitary as an oyster.”





But, by the end of the story, he is described in these terms:

“He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man, as the good old city knew, or any other good old city, town or borough, in the good old world.”

And, in short, the source of this amazing transformation, in which Scrooge’s best self was enabled to emerge, was in the exposure to the celebration of Christmas.  This story told how the Christmas celebration had the power to transform Scrooge from a self-centered miser to a person who exhibited a lively generosity in every aspect of his life.

We also see this theme, which I call “the Scrooge motif” in many other secular Christmas stories, such as Dr. Seuss’s children’s book How the Grinch Stole Christmas, the films It’s a Wonderful Life and Miracle on 34th Street, and just about any good “Christmas special” on TV.   Christmas is an occasion of ethical transformation, in which we are enabled to let our best selves emerge.  Our culture believes (or, at the very least, our culture wants to believe) that the season of Christmas transforms us.  It brings out our own better nature, just as it did for Scrooge, for the Grinch, or for many others.

For people of Christian faith, we need to recognise this factor in the Christmas celebrations of our wider community, and to affirm the fact that this season is a time of greater ethical sensitivity for many people, and a time when many of our neighbours are asking the deep questions of life.

Transformation is also a major theme in our Christian faith.  The Christian church has always believed in Christ’s ability to transform each of us into people who reflect the love of God in everything we do.  It is an easy leap for us – as Christians - to say that the entire Christ-event is an occasion of ethical transformation, enabling each of us to allow our best selves to emerge in response to God’s grace to humanity through the person of Christ Jesus. 

In many ways, it’s not all that big a mental leap from our culture’s sense of seasonal transformation to the more profound and radical transformation that is at the heart of our faith.  This Christmas, let’s assist our community to make this leap. 

And, as Mr. Dickens said of Scrooge after his transformation,

“… he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any … [one] alive possessed the knowledge.  May that truly be said of us, and all of us!  And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God bless us, Every One!”



And, if you'd like some of my reflections on Advent and Christmas sitting on your bookshelf as well as on your computer, you may want to buy my book  Christmas Lost and Christmas Regained from Amazon.

https://www.amazon.com/Christmas-Lost-Regained-Robert-Faser/dp/1518633420/ref=sr_1_fkmr0_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1478247054&sr=8-1-fkmr0&keywords=christmas+lost+and+christmas+regained

Wednesday 20 November 2013

Sunday morning at St. Mungo's: the Musical

This is a brief comic musical (10-15 minutes) that is suitable as an item in a concert for a local congregation. 

It requires a narrator, a small choir, and an accompanist on piano or keyboard.  The choir doesn't need to be a professional choir, such as those who make world tours based from Vienna, Cambridge, or Salt Lake City.  A small group of people who can carry a tune, and who have a sense of humour would be excellent.  (Much of the humour in this is based on the choir making improvised visual responses to whatever is going on, as well as in occasionally miming the words to the hymn parodies.)

"St. Mungo's" is a fictional congregation.  (There really was a St. Mungo.  He's the patron saint of the city of Glasgow ... the one in Scotland, not the one in Montana.  The name is funny though.)  "St. Mungo's" is one of my collection of funny church names, along with "The First Corinthian Free-for-all Triple-Immersion Revival Church (Inc.)" and "Our Lady of Perpetual Fund-Raising". 

My permission is given for you to use this musical in your local setting.  Please make the following note in your programme "Copyright 2013, Bob Faser.  Used by permission."

By the way, any bits [in square brackets and italicised] are directions to the performers and should not be read.

And now, here it is  ...  "Sunday Morning at St. Mungo's:  the Musical".

***

NARRATOR:    Welcome to St. Mungo's Uniting Church in the community of Wobbly Bridge, Tasmania. (1)   Sunday morning worship is about to start.  The minister (2) is robing up.  The organist is having a quick pre-service cigarette out behind the vestry.  The Praise Band is warming up, and the people who stand in the foyer talking until the Praise Band has finished their gig are still catching up with each other.  Let's leave the crowds in the foyer and join in some of the singing with the Praise Band and their supporters.

CHOIR:  (singing, to the tune of MAJESTY, by Jack Hayford):

Choruses!  They're singing choruses.
They are senseless, repetitious, and a bore.
Choruses, we can't stand choruses.
Humour our whims.  Let's sing some hymns once more.
It's time for alarm when I see an arm
waving near my head.
Song leader says, "Stand.  Let's all join hands."
I turn bright red.
Choruses!  Please no more choruses.
Humour our whims.  Let's sing some hymns once more.

NARRATOR:   And, of course, whenever you sing a chorus like this, you're required to sing it through at least twice.

CHOIR:

Choruses!  They're singing choruses.
They are senseless, repetitious, and a bore.
Choruses, we can't stand choruses.
Humour our whims.  Let's sing some hymns once more.
It's time for alarm when I see an arm
waving near my head.
Song leader says, "Stand.  Let's all join hands."
I turn bright red.
Choruses!  Please no more choruses.
Humour our whims.  Let's sing some hymns once more.

NARRATOR:    And, in addition to these "choruses" and "worship songs", there may be one or two songs tossed in for the sake of those worshippers who may be "Baby Boomers".  They're called "folk hymns".  These were the songs that emerged in the Catholic Church in the years after the Second Vatican Council.  These songs were pretty good.  The only problem was that some copyright issues developed with some of these songs, and there were some messy lawsuits.  Ironically, the messiest lawsuit involved a song with the title "And they'll know we are Christians by our love".

CHOIR:  (Singing, to the tune of "And they'll know we are Christians by our love", by Peter Scholtes)

Oh, Saint Pat's has a folk Mass every Saturday night.
The homily's short and the singing is bright.
A lawyer in the back row's taking notes with delight.
So be sure that you get the copyright right.
Oh be sure that you get the copyright right.

NARRATOR:   And now a few things are changing. 

The organist arrives in the organ loft after his pre-service cigarette. 

The minister is robed up and arrives in the chancel. 

And as far as the people who were hanging around in the foyer waiting for the Praise Band to stop are concerned, they wind up their conversations and enter the service. 

The organist begins the prelude.  [Accompanist plays a few bars of Bach's Sheep shall safely graze.] 

And the Praise Band decides to head off to the service at the Assembly of God to check out the band there.  ...

For the early part of the service, the minister has chosen a Taize chant to go with the prayers.  ... Now, a Taize chant is a bit like a chorus, only using music. Occasionally, Taize chants are in Latin, which presents a few issues. 

People who don't like Taize chants say things such as "It's in Latin, isn't that [horrified] Catholic?"  ... or "It's in Latin, isn't that [horrified] New Age?" ... or "It's in Latin; aren't we supposed to dumb things down for the sake of [solemnly and with reverence] OUTREACH?"  ...

Meanwhile, those who like Taize chants will say things like "It's in Latin [rubbing hands together with enthusiasm]; aren't we intelligent, aren't we sophisticated; aren't we ecumenical?"  ...

This Taize chant was written by a new member of the Taize community.  His high school Latin was a bit rusty, but he was very enthusiastic.  His superiors at Taize decided to publish it to encourage him and thought that no congregation would ever really use it.  But they don't know St. Mungo's.

CHOIR:  (Singing, to the tune of "Ubi Caritas", by the Taize Community):

Bona fide.  De facto.
Et cetera.  Ad nauseam.

[Repeat this multiple times, in the way a Taize chant is repeated multiple times.  Members of the choir should start to look tired.  Some should yawn and sit down, and drop off to sleep, with the accompanist and narrator seeming oblivious to this.  Eventually, only one choir member is awake and singing a solo, while the other choir members are snoring.  This choir member is trying to catch the attention of the accompanist so that the music can cease.  Eventually, the accompanist notices this, and brings the music to a close.]

NARRATOR:      And then, the children's talk takes place, and the minister fields a few thorny questions about "Who made God?"  The kids go off to their activities.  [Accompanist plays a few bars of "Jesus loves me, this I know."]

After this we have some lessons from scripture.  [Accompanist plays a few bars of Gershwin's "It ain't necessarily so."]

The lessons are followed by the sermon.  [Accompanist plays a few bars of Brahms's Lullaby.]

Associated with the sermon, there will be a few traditional-style hymns.  Traditional-style hymns are what gives the music of the service its theological bite and, of course, one person's "theological bite" is the next person's "heresy".

If, for example, the minister uses the sermon to give the congregation a guilt trip about something, "God gives us a future" is the preferred hymn to sing with the sermon.  [Accompanist plays a few bars of "God gives us a future".]

If, on the other hand, the minister is trying to apologise for the previous week's guilt trip, the hymn associated with the sermon could be "God is love, let heaven adore him", "There's a wideness in God's mercy", or "Come as you are".  [Accompanist plays a few bars of one of these.]

But then, if the minister's sermon indicates some level of disagreement with one of the Scripture lessons, whether it's a more "progressive" minister disagreeing with something Paul said or a more "conservative" minister disagreeing with something Jesus said, nothing beats "We limit not the truth of God".  [Accompanist plays a few bars thereof.]

Moving on, then it's time for the prayers of intercession.  [Accompanist plays a few bars of Janis Joplin's "Oh, Lord won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz?"]

The  notices follow.  [Accompanist plays a few bars of "Rock-a-bye, baby".]

And then there's the offering.  [Accompanist plays a few bars of ABBA's "Money, money, money".]

The children return to tell the congregation what they did during their activities [Accompanist plays a few bars of "Jesus loves the little children".]  giving the minster another unsuccessful shot at "Who made God".

And then it's time for the final hymn.  Now, in recent months, a number of members of the congregation have been heard telling their friends in other churches, [in a whiny, complaining voice] "Oh, our music is dreadful at St. Mungo's.  If it's not that modern rubbish, it's all highbrow stuff."  So, the minister and elders decided to end each service with something that was obviously neither "modern" nor "highbrow" ... in other words, a "gospel hymn". ... 

While gospel hymns arose in the more "religious" sort of churches, they are also popular among many members of churches like St. Mungo's, churches where the words of the hymns don't always reflect the beliefs of the worshippers.  Part of the reason for this, I believe, is that it brings back childhood memories of visiting elderly relatives who were people of a plain-spoken, pietist faith, and who were warm, generous, hospitable, kindly people ... even if they did believe in the total depravity of humanity and the eternal damnation of the unregenerate, among whose  number they would have considered most of today's members of St. Mungo's.

And, by the way, the Praise Band has returned from checking out the band at the AOG.  So the pipe organ will be joined by electric guitar, electric bass, and a full drum kit for this final hymn.  Isn't it exciting?  Isn't it ecumenical?

CHOIR:   (singing, to the tune of "To God be the glory" by Fanny Crosby):

My auntie's "religious".  She's been so for years.
At her church there are many like-minded old dears.
They sing gospel hymns to the tunes Sankey set.
The tunes you'll remember.  The words you'll forget.

The refrain!  The refrain!  How it pounds in my ear!
Numbs the brain!  Numbs the brain!  And it drives me to tears!
It's time for decision; it's your chance to choose
no dancing, no movies, no make-up, no booze!

And so we continue for three or so verses,
while under my breath I am mumbling curses,
and (just as my stamina's starting to falter)
we sing it again as we're called to the altar.

The refrain!  The refrain!  How it pounds in my ear!
Numbs the brain!  Numbs the brain!  And it drives me to tears!
It's time for decision; it's your chance to choose
no dancing, no movies, no make-up, no booze!

NARRATOR:    And now it's time for the Benediction, and following the Benediction, the congregation sings once more, this time holding hands.  (The elders still haven't got around to reading the denomination's paper on avoiding sexual harassment in the congregation.)  But, don't worry, we won't ask you to hold hands.  (I've read the harassment paper.)  But, anyway, good night and may the Ground of All Being bless you all real good.

CHOIR:   (singing, to the tune of "Now unto him" as found in Scripture in Song.)

Now, it is time, it is time to go home.
The service is finally over.
Home to watch the football, or mow the lawn, or eat our lunch
with exceeding joy.
And at night we'll watch an ABC drama
or something on SBS.  (3)
While eating some pizza  (4)
or Chinese takeaway.
Ah .... men.


***

NOTES

(1)  In performance, please feel free to make St. Mungo's a congregation of whichever denomination your congregation is part.  Also, you may locate Wobbly Bridge in whichever state, province, or county you find yourselves.

(2)  In performance, please feel free to refer to the minister by whatever term you use to describe the minister (rector, vicar, parish priest, pastor ...) in your congregation, and to adapt any other bits of denominational jargon.

(3)  These are the words for use in Australia.  In the US, it could be "And at night we'll watch the History Channel / or something on PBS."  In the UK, it could be "And at night we'll watch a BBC drama / or something on Channel Four."   (Etc.)   The choice of TV viewing reflects the middle-class nature of a congregation such as St. Mungo's.

(4)  Eating "some pizza" may work in most of the world.  On the west coast of the United States, or in the Southwest, this may be eating "some tacos".  In the UK, this could be eating "a curry".  Anywhere else, this could be whatever happens to be the popular takeaway food in your area.