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.