O Holy Night

This message was first delivered at Cove United Methodist Church in Coleman Falls, Virginia on December 27, 2015. It is based on the lectionary text of Colossians 3:12-17.

Colossians 3:12-17 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in the one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.

The weather this week has not been exactly conducive to gazing at the night sky...but one of my very favorite moments of the past few days was as I was leaving my house on Christmas Eve to head to Centenary for the evening service. I was running late and was still in the “harried and hassled” mode of Christmas Eve. As I was leaving the house, I happened to glance up at the sky...and I could see, through the cloud cover, the moon. My breath caught in my throat and I stared at the night sky...and it brought my impatience and hectic pace to an abrupt stop. I let go of the to-do list and took a full minute to stare into the sky and just be.

It reminded me of my favorite Christmas carol - "O Holy Night." This well-known carol was composed by Adolphe Adam in 1847 to the French poem "Minuit, chrétiens" (Midnight, Christians) by a wine merchant and poet, Placide Cappeau. In Roquemaure, the church organ was recently renovated. To celebrate the event, the parish priest asked Cappeau, to write a Christmas poem. Cappeau did it, although being a professed anticlerical and atheist. Soon after, Adam wrote the music. On Christmas Eve, at Midnight Mass, in an obscure French village...a choir celebrated Jesus' birth with O Holy Night.

Most didn’t think much of the song when it was written. Not because the song itself was without merit but because they didn’t much appreciate its author. Placide Cappeau de Roquemaure was a poet commissioned by a French Bishop. He was considered by many to be less-than-worthy of such a task. Some considered him profane – others thought of him as a trouble maker at best. He was indeed a social radical; known for his opposition to things like injustice, inequality, and oppression. He tended to be out spoken.

Adams, the one who wrote the music to the song, was just as unqualified … he was, after all, a Jew! When the Church Leaders in France learned these facts, they officially banned the song as “unfit for church services.” But it was too late! O Holy Night had already become one of the most beloved Christmas songs in France --- and no matter what the Church Leaders decreed --- the French people kept singing it. You see, even though the composers may not have believed what they wrote, they had produced a masterpiece that was true to the Gospel message.

In spite of the criticism of some, the song struck a nerve with the masses. It spoke to them. From the first verse:

O holy night! The stars are brightly shining,
It is the night of the dear Saviour’s birth.
Long lay the world in sin and error pining.
Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn ….

Here we see the birth of Christ from a Heavenly viewpoint … a birth that awakened the whole world … a birth that brought a new and glorious morn to everyone on earth.

The Nativity story teaches us to reflect not only on the birth of Jesus, but its universal message of peace and goodwill. The story begins with a census. All citizens, by order of Caesar Augustus, went to be registered in their place of family origin. Mary and Joseph traveled from Nazareth to Bethlehem because of the census. Jesus was born in a cave stable set aside for shepherds’ flocks in time of storm. In a place of abandonment, Jesus was laid in a manger on this particular night, since there was no room for them at the inn. The story goes on to reveal that on this night, shepherds guarded their sheep in the fields and angels appeared to announce the birth of the new born king. Later on, perhaps weeks after, wise men appeared bearing gifts fit for a king. Finally, the young family fled into Egypt because King Herod sought the child to kill him after being informed of the birth.

At the heart of this story, as it unfolds in the cave stable, is the birth of a higher expression of love that had not been expressed up unto that point in time. That love brought to fulfillment in Jesus manifested itself as selfless love.

Father Greg Boyle, author of Tattoos on the Heart gives an interesting perspective to O Holy Night, (I read from the chapter in his book titled simply “Kinship”): “I grew up in an old large house. My five sisters and two brothers and I were told never to go to the attic. This is all we needed to hear. Before long, we were selling tickets to the attic. On one of our forays there, navigating the uncertain planks that kept you from falling through the ceiling below (I guess that explains my mom's prohibition), we found a box of old record albums. One thick, red-clay recording was labeled “O Holy Night – Kathleen Conway” (Conway was my mother's maiden name). We hurried downstairs, placed the record on our toy phonograph and encircled the speakers, lying on our stomachs, fists propping up our attentive heads. A glorious, though timeworn and scratchy voice came through the speakers. Our mom, it turns out, before she decided to have eight kids, was an opera singer. We could barely fathom that the voice that hollered at us to come to dinner belonged to this magic emerging from our toy phonograph. We played the grooves off of this record. Consequently, a line from the song found itself permanently etched in my brain – a mantra of sorts: “long lay the world in sin and error pining - 'til He appeared and the soul felt its worth.” Sure, it is a song about Jesus and Christmas, but how is it not the job description of human beings seeking kinship? It's about appearing,” remembering that we belong to one another, and letting souls feel their worth.

The scripture from Colossians that I read a few minutes ago speaks to this goal – Paul was writing to the church at Colossae from prison and he was concerned about reports that he had heard of them following false teachers. He wanted to bring them back to the basics. From The Message, verses 12-14 “So, chosen by God for this new life of love, dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline. Be even-tempered, content with second place, quick to forgive an offense. Forgive as quickly and completely as the Master forgave you. And regardless of what else you put on, wear love. It’s your basic, all-purpose garment. Never be without it.”

Compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline. The basics – treat all humans with compassion and kindness. Be humble. Be strong but not boastful. Forgive quickly – and completely. But above all – Love. Let the souls feel their worth...because in this world, it is easy for people to feel devalued. To feel unworthy. To feel unloved and forgotten. To not be sure if God loves them. To not be sure if God loves us.

In his book, Father Greg tells about a homie named Bandit who came to Homeboy Industries after a lot of time “being at home in all things illegal.” He finally decided he was “tired of being tired” and left his old ways behind. The job developers located an entry level job – unskilled and low-paying, a first job. Fast forward 15 years and G got a phone call from Bandit, “G, ya gotta bless my daughter.” “Is she okay?” Father Greg asked. “Is she sick or in the hospital?” No, Bandit told him...Carolina was headed to college. The first in his family...and he was hoping that G could offer a send-off benediction. Bandit, his wife and three kids all arrive and the young Carolina is encircled and blessed. Not a dry eye in the office. In his own words, “I'm not entirely sure why we're all crying, except, I suppose for the fact that Bandit and his wife don't know anybody who has gone to college – except, I guess, me. Certainly no one in either one of their families. So we end the prayer and we laugh at how mushy we all just got. Wiping our tears, I turn to Carolina and ask, “So, what are you going to study at Humbolt?” She says, without missing a beat, “Forensic psychology.” Bandit chimes in, “Yeah, she wants to study the criminal mind.” after a few beats he says, “Yeah, I'm gonna be her first subject!” They walk out to the car together and as everyone piles in, Pastor G says to Bandit, “Can I tell you something, dog?” “I give you credit for the man you've chosen to become. I'm proud of you.” and Bandit answered, I'm proud of myself. All my life, people called me a lowlife, a bueno para nada. I guess I showed them.” I guess he did. And the soul feels its worth.

The message of Christmas remains as before, peace, love, and goodwill to all. This message of peace and love is timely for all ages and seasons. Without peace, there cannot be goodwill or love. Likewise, without love, there cannot be abiding peace. That love mentioned in the Bible is defined as loving your neighbor as well as yourself. Without this kind of compassionate love, there can be no harmony or peace that passes all understanding.

The poet Hafez wrote of this kinship in his poem With That Moon Language:

“Admit something:

Everyone you see, you say to them, “Love me”

Of course you do not do this out loud;

Otherwise, someone would call the cops.

Still though, think about this,

This great pull in us to connect.

Why not become the one

Who lives with a full moon in each eye

That is always saying

With that sweet moon language

What every other eye in this world

Is dying to

Hear.

We are tasked with being that one – who, like Jesus, sees in every human they encounter...a child of God. A person who is worthy of love. One clothed in God's goodness. And we have the opportunity to show them their worth. Help them to come to know the truth about themselves and like what they find there.

The second stanza of O Holy Night:

Led by the light of faith serenely beaming,
With glowing hearts by His cradle we stand.
O’er the world a star is sweetly gleaming,
Now come the wise men from out of the Orient land.
The King of kings lay thus in lowly manger;
In all our trials born to be our friend …

A miracle of miracles. He was born to be our friend. He came down to Earth fully human. To connect to us on a whole new level. Christmas (the incarnation) is all about God disclosing to humankind what he is really like. The incarnation shows us what God is and what God’s priorities are … that is central to the Good News of Jesus Christ. John 1:14 says The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth. Hebrews 1:3 says: The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being…

He chose willingly to come to Earth in such a humble way. Fully divine and yet fully human. The scripture from Luke that told of his pre-teen escapade in Jerusalem is one example of what a delicate balance it was – the divine vs. the human. God becoming flesh meant Jesus entered this debate as soon as he could (age 12 was often considered the age of adulthood in these cultures) and would redefine the interpretation of the Bible for his first disciples and generations of disciples to come. While Luke does not tell us the specifics of his questions and answers here, we get a good clue from his sermon at Nazareth: God is now bringing good news of deliverance especially to the poor, the enemy and the marginalized. And much like the poet who gave us O Holy Night, “He was considered by many to be less-than-worthy of such a task. Some considered him profane – others thought of him as a trouble maker at best. He was indeed a social radical; known for his opposition to things like injustice, inequality, and oppression. He tended to be out spoken.” I think that God is a big fan of irony.

The third verse begins:

Truly He taught us to love one another,
His law is love and His gospel is peace.
Chains he shall break, for the slave is our brother.
And in his name all oppression shall cease.

Which brings us back to what Paul was saying to the church in Colossae: “Let the peace of Christ keep you in tune with each other, in step with each other. None of this going off and doing your own thing. And cultivate thankfulness. Let the Word of Christ—the Message—have the run of the house. Give it plenty of room in your lives. Instruct and direct one another using good common sense.

His law? Is love. His gospel? Peace. And if we keep these thoughts in the forefront of our lives, we'll be in tune with each other. Not just as church members or Christians, but as humans in our daily interactions with others. Let the Word of Christ have the run of the house. That word is love.

We have the opportunity every day to show others that they have worth. That they are loved. Not when they pull their act together and behave the way we think they should... they are loved right now, just as they are. You are loved right now, just the way that you are. God loves you and wants you to know it with every fiber of your being. You concede “God loves us.” and yet there is this lurking sense that perhaps you aren't fully part of the “us.” The arms of God reach to embrace, and somehow you feel yourself just outside God's fingertips. You have no choice but to consider “God loves me,” yet you spend much of your life unable to shake off what feels like God only embracing you begrudgingly and reluctantly. “I suppose, if you insist, God has to love me too.”

Experience the utter fullness of God. Completely know the One in whom “you move and live and have your being.” You will see then, that it has been God's JOY to love you all along. Then you won't be able to hold back. Then, as Paul wrote in Colossians: sing, sing your hearts out to God! Let every detail in your lives—words, actions, whatever—be done in the name of the Master, Jesus, thanking God the Father every step of the way.

One more story from Father Greg, “at 3 o'clock one morning, the phone rings. It's Cesar. He says what every homie says when they call in the middle of the night, “Did I wake you?” I always think, “why no, I was just waiting and hoping you'd call.” Cesar is sober and it's urgent he talk to me. “I gotta ask you a question. You know how I've always seen you as my father – ever since I was a little kid? Well, I hafta ask you a question.” Now Cesar pauses, and the gravity of it all makes his voice waver and crumble, “Have I...been...your son?” “oh hell yeah,” I say. “Whew,” Cesar exhales, “I thought so.” Now his voice becomes enmeshed in a cadence of gentle sobbing. “Then...I will be...your son. And you...will be my father. And nothing will separate us, right?” “That's right.” In this early morning call, Cesar did not discover he has a father, he discovered he was a son worth having.

And the soul feels its worth.

Be Prepared

This message was first delivered at Mt. Tabor and Smyrna United Methodist Church in Monroe, Virginia on November 29, 2015 (my first two-point charge!). It is based on the lectionary text of Luke 21:25-36. 

Luke 21:25-36 The Message (MSG)

It will seem like all hell has broken loose—sun, moon, stars, earth, sea, in an uproar and everyone all over the world in a panic, the wind knocked out of them by the threat of doom, the powers-that-be quaking.

“And then—then!—they’ll see the Son of Man welcomed in grand style—a glorious welcome! When all this starts to happen, up on your feet. Stand tall with your heads high. Help is on the way!”

He told them a story. “Look at a fig tree. Any tree for that matter. When the leaves begin to show, one look tells you that summer is right around the corner. The same here—when you see these things happen, you know God’s kingdom is about here. Don’t brush this off: I’m not just saying this for some future generation, but for this one, too—these things will happen. Sky and earth will wear out; my words won’t wear out.

“But be on your guard. Don’t let the sharp edge of your expectation get dulled by parties and drinking and shopping. Otherwise, that Day is going to take you by complete surprise, spring on you suddenly like a trap, for it’s going to come on everyone, everywhere, at once. So, whatever you do, don’t go to sleep at the switch. Pray constantly that you will have the strength and wits to make it through everything that’s coming and end up on your feet before the Son of Man.”

Happy New Year everyone! You seem puzzled? Think I'm too early? Advent is the beginning of a new church year! Some churches in the United Methodist denomination and many other Christian denominations follow a common set of scriptures each week called the lectionary. I wasn't aware of that fact until much later in my life – but I have come to embrace this commonality. I love that across the world the same scriptures and shared and studied...each pastor approaching from a different perspective. Today begins the new year...so Happy New Year!

As I began to examine today's lectionary readings to prepare my message for you...I was struck by the doomsday predictions in the scriptures. “People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken.” That verse from Luke does not feel very Christmasy.

Why are we reading about destruction and death? It’s almost Christmas! We should be reading about the joy of the coming birth of baby Jesus! But I have come to know that readings about the end times always appear at the start of Advent, because we are preparing the way not just for the birth of the baby, but for the second coming. Oh. Aha! That brings a whole new light to Advent. Not just preparing for Christmas – but preparing for more.

Years ago, a farmer owned land along the Atlantic coast. He constantly advertised for hired hands. Most people were reluctant to work on farms along the Atlantic. They dreaded the awful storms that raged across the Atlantic, wreaking havoc on the buildings and crops. As the farmer interviewed applicants for the job, he received a steady stream of refusals.

Finally, a short, thin man, well past middle age, approached the farmer. "Are you a good farm hand?" the farmer asked him. "Well, I can sleep when the wind blows," answered the little man.

Although puzzled by this answer, the farmer, desperate for help, hired him. The little man worked well around the farm, busy from dawn to dusk, and the farmer felt satisfied with the man's work. Then one night the wind howled loudly in from offshore. Jumping out of fed, the farmer grabbed a lantern and rushed next door to the hired hand's sleeping quarters. He shook the little man and yelled, "Get Up! A storm is coming! Tie things down before they blow away!" The little man rolled over in bed and said firmly, "No Sir. I told you, I can sleep when the wind blows."

Enraged by the response, the farmer was tempted to fire him on the spot. Instead, he hurried outside to prepare for the storm. To his amazement, he discovered that all of the haystacks had been covered with tarps. The cows were in the barn, the chickens were in the coops, and the doors were barred. The shutters were tightly secured. Everything was tied down.

Nothing could blow away. The farmer then understood what his hired hand meant, so he returned to his bed to also sleep while the wind blew.

When you're prepared, spiritually, mentally, and physically, you have nothing to fear. Can you sleep when the wind blows?

I personally appreciate the countercultural message the church offers as a way of preparing for Christmas. Instead of encouraging us to prepare for the celebration of Christ’s birth by decorating, throwing parties and spending lavishly in order to shower our friends and family with gifts (as if it is their birthday), the tradition of the church invites us into a period of self-examination and penance. It is the opposite of what the world tells us to do.

The Advent season gets off to a roaring start with a dire prophecy about the end times: From the Good News Translation: “There will be strange things happening to the sun, the moon, and the stars. On earth whole countries will be in despair, afraid of the roar of the sea and the raging tides. People will faint from fear as they wait for what is coming over the whole earth, for the powers in space will be driven from their courses. Then the Son of Man will appear, coming in a cloud with great power and glory. When these things begin to happen, stand up and raise your heads, because your salvation is near.”

In other words, we are to prepare for the birth of Jesus into the world and for his coming again by living as people who are prepared to die. It’s not a very Christmassy sentiment. But it is vital that we offer an alternative to what the world offers in preparation for the birth of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ into this world and his coming again.

What does it mean to live as people who are prepared to die? In the past month I experienced the death of two very different people. One was a young man in his forties and one was a dear lady who passed 4 days before her 90th birthday. The young man passed very suddenly. I know you have all lost people unexpectedly – perhaps by car accident or natural disaster – the rapidity of the loss brings chaos and confusion. Where are all the important papers? Was there a will? How do we make those phone calls where the news is always met with stunned disbelief? Especially as we deal with the “why” question in our own minds?

The loss of my sweet elderly friend is felt just as much – but because of her advanced age and the previous loss of her husband...the preparations are much more likely to be in place. The family knew what hymns she would want played, the scriptures she would want shared at her service. Her farm had been tightly secured. But the young man's was not.

As I have helped his mother deal with the aftermath – the mortgage, the car, insurance, bank accounts...the assets and liabilities that mark our existence in the secular world...I find myself pondering the spiritual life of my friend. Not a regular attender of church, he seemed sometimes to be drifting aimlessly from a spiritual point of view. We sometimes debated (often heatedly) the existence of God and the value of faith. In the first days...I felt so unsure of whether he was prepared to meet his creator. I was greatly comforted when his local friends gathered around a backyard fire to share memories. A formal funeral service would have just not felt right...it just wasn't who he was. The friends (he had no family in Virginia) told stories of a man who reached outside of himself to teach...to share his wisdom...to extend a helping hand...to support others. Young men told of the ways that he encouraged them to try new things. One young father recalled how our friend was there for the birth of their children...and how excited he was that they recently reconnected and were planning a visit soon. Perhaps his farm was in better shape than I first thought? Yes, the paperwork flew around in the storm (some of it still does) and the dirty dishes in the sink spoke of a plan to “take care of that tomorrow.” But at the very core of his being – he was carrying out the mission of being the loving, caring example of Christ that he learned about in Sunday school so many years ago. He gave food to the hungry, gave love and support to those in need. His farm may not have been perfectly secure...but neither is mine.

One of the beautiful things about Advent is the opportunity to examine our lives and put things in order. To prepare the way – not just for the birth of Christ, but for more. This chance for renewal is available every day...but perhaps Advent is the reminder we all need?

I have never been a big proponent of New Years' Resolutions. I find that I have a tendency to make sweeping pronouncements of tremendous change: going to spend more time in prayer, cut out sugar, write more letters, clean out my car, balance my checkbook...and by the middle of January, I've got a nearly blank prayer journal, trashy car, almost full pack of stationary, two letters needing stamps, and we won't even address cutting out sugar. With Advent being the New Year of the church...maybe I need to examine my farm. I think my haystacks are in danger of destruction.

The hired hand in the story didn't run around the afternoon before the storm was expected, because the farmer would have noticed that...he made preparation a part of his daily routine. What things could we add to our daily routine that would make us a people prepared to die? Prayer? Daily meditation on scriptures? Compassion? Kindness? Being who Christ would have us be for the world?

The Luke scripture points out that we need to be attuned to warning signs. He points out that leaves on the trees indicate that summer is near. Verses 34-36 are a reminder to be on watch: “Be careful not to let yourselves become occupied with too much feasting and drinking and with the worries of this life, or that Day may suddenly catch you like a trap. For it will come upon all people everywhere on earth. Be on watch and pray always that you will have the strength to go safely through all those things that will happen and to stand before the Son of Man.”

We humanly fall into the trap of thinking that the worries of this life are all important. We forget to be on watch. It reminds me of the smoke detectors in my house. Do you have a smoke alarm in your house? I hope so. In the event of a fire, a smoke alarm could save your life and the lives of your loved ones by providing a warning that would give you the chance to escape. Smoke alarms don't cost very much, and they are easy to install. It is one of the best safety devices you can buy and install to protect yourself, your family, and your home.

But be careful! Some people think that once they have a smoke alarm installed in their house they are safe from the dangers of fire. We forget that our smoke alarm is only as good as the battery inside. Did you change your smoke detector batteries when Daylight Saving time ended?

Or it could be like my house, when I'm fixing breakfast and burn the toast which sets off the smoke alarm? It is actually a good thing because it shows that your smoke alarm is working. But my family gets so used to hearing the smoke alarm that they just ignore it. Or even worse, I turn it off so that they won't be bothered by it. Then, when I need it, I may be in serious trouble!

Just as we must make sure our smoke alarm is ready in case of a fire, Jesus tells us that we must be ready for him when he returns. We don't know when that time will be, so we need to make sure that we stay ready. We need to keep our spiritual batteries charged by regular worship, Bible study, and prayer.

We hear people saying that Jesus will return on a certain day. That day comes and goes and Jesus does not return. We may hear so many of these false warnings that we begin to think that Jesus will never return. But Jesus said, "Keep alert at all times. Pray that you will be strong. Don't let that day catch you by surprise."

We are called to Be Prepared. To keep watch. So that we can be more like the believers that Paul wrote to in Thessalonica: What would be an adequate thanksgiving to offer God for all the joy we experience before him because of you? We do what we can, praying away, night and day, asking for the bonus of seeing your faces again and doing what we can to help when your faith falters. May God our Father himself and our Master Jesus clear the road to you! And may the Master pour on the love so it fills your lives and splashes over on everyone around you, just as it does from us to you. May you be infused with strength and purity, filled with confidence in the presence of God our Father when our Master Jesus arrives with all his followers.

The prophet Jeremiah told us – The days are surely coming...when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel and Judah (that's us too). In those days and at that time I will cause a Righteous Branch to spring up for David. And he will execute justice and righteousness in the land.

We are called to keep watch and be prepared.

With the losses I experienced last month...I was visiting a friend and we had a lengthy discussion about death. This person is very focused on fitness and healthy living. He was expressing concern that the lifestyle of another friend was not only causing health problems, but perhaps even hastening his death. I said to him (in a rather snarky tone, I’m afraid) that no matter how healthy we are, the fact is we are all going to die. It is unavoidable. I added that I hope to die before my body gets to a point where I can’t really live.

Having witnessed my grandmother's dementia, I find that I fear loss of memory and reason more than my ability to climb stairs. I know that these conditions are often hereditary. Other than some hearing loss and misplacing things from time to time, my mom is in great physical shape. She is not overweight. She eats well. She actually teaches water aerobics three days a week. She takes appropriate medication to deal with arthritis and such; but for an seventy five-year-old woman, she is amazingly healthy and stands to live for many more years. My greatest fear is that her excellent physical condition is going to keep her alive beyond the time that she can engage fully in life and be in relationship and communication with the people she loves. Or maybe that is my fear for me...

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t want my mom to die, ever. And I don’t want to die either. But there is nothing we can do about it. My mom is going to die, and so am I, and so is every other human being who is alive today. Tens of thousands of people are dying right this very minute, even as I write these words. Many more will die before the sun goes down today. Human life is fragile and brief in the grand scheme of things.

Many people, when they read passages like this one from Luke, imagine a day when the world and all life upon it draws to a dramatic, sudden, and violent close. They look for signs in the world that signal that the time is coming and try to prepare for it by praying and sharing about the saving power of Christ with others. In this theological worldview, when the end comes, people will be lined up before the Lord to be judged. Those who confess Jesus Christ as their Savior will immediately be saved for eternal life in heaven, and those who do not will be left behind to go down with the ship.

Whether or not it happens like that doesn’t really matter much to me.

What I do believe is that each of us will one day find ourselves standing before the Lord. I do believe he is coming in a cloud with power and great glory to each and every one of us. And I believe he will welcome every one of us into his kingdom with grace and mercy and gather us around his table to feast at the heavenly banquet with all the saints that have gone before us. Exactly what that will look like...I can't predict.

When is he coming? I don’t know. It might be in the next hour. It might be before the sun goes down today. It might be next week, or next year, or thirty or forty years from now. We have no way of knowing.

We are called to be prepared. To make sure that our lives are in order. To secure our farm against the storms. To be able to sleep when the storm blows. What new years resolutions would you make for yourselves? What about for your church? Are there hopes and dreams for (Smyrna UMC / Mount Tabor UMC) that you would like to see bear fruit in this new year? Maybe God has put some service or some program or course of study on your heart...but maybe you reached up and popped the battery out of your spiritual smoke detector.

Whether it is a personal resolution, or family or church or community...let's heed the instruction to be aware. I'll close with a short poem by Lawrence Tribble:

One man awake, awakens another.

The second awakens his next door brother.

The three awake can rouse a town

By turning the whole place upside down.

The many awake can cause such a fuss

It finally awakens the rest of us.

One man up with dawn in his eyes

Surely then multiplies.

Mourning, Lamenting and Moving On

This message was first delivered at Court Street United Methodist Church in Lynchburg, Virginia on June 27, 2015. It is based on the lectionary text of Psalm 130.

Last week your choir did the most glorious rendition of Psalm 130. Just like today, this choir does not fail to deliver! It is really quite an extraordinary text – let me read it for you now:

Out of the depths I cry to you, O LORD.

Lord, hear my voice! Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my supplications!

If you, O LORD, should mark iniquities, Lord, who could stand?

But there is forgiveness with you, so that you may be revered.

I wait for the LORD, my soul waits, and in his word I hope;

my soul waits for the Lord more than those who watch for the morning, more than those who watch for the morning.

O Israel, hope in the LORD! For with the LORD there is steadfast love, and with him is great power to redeem.

It is he who will redeem Israel from all its iniquities.

Powerful stuff. And a very similar message was delivered in the scripture reading from Lamentations: Thank God that the Lord is steadfast in his love because between the challenges of life and the ways we willfully walk away – if he was keeping score, we'd all be ashes.

Life sometimes just – doesn't seem to be going our way. Sometimes we are incredibly overwhelmed by life. But since the writer of Lamentations reminds us that God does not “willingly afflict or grieve anyone” - why then, does life sometimes just...suck?

You know what I'm talking about. Sometimes it is just little things in life: the washer breaks down and the fridge stops making ice. The Maple Leafs don't win the Stanley Cup. Feeling annoyed and frustrated. Then there are the bigger things: loss of a job, the house in foreclosure, betrayal of a friend, feeling alone. Challenges ramping up past a simmer – death in your closest circle of friends, cancer diagnosis, homelessness, feeling desperate. And past the boil – abuse, loss of a child, feeling devastated. What do we do then?

Over and over in scripture we see people experiencing overwhelming challenges and the suffering makes them cry out to God. Out of the depths I cry to you, O LORD. Lord, hear my voice! Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my supplications! They – cry out – TO God.

One of the hardest things I have to remember to do – is to stop relying on myself. I can't seem to get it through my thick head – when I'm overwhelmed...I need to lean on God. I know, I know...it seems simple. Turn it over to the one who is in control. I'm like a crazy person trying to drive the car from the passenger seat! The driver keeps saying, “no Chris, I've got this...the wheel is over here” and I'm just a'grabbin' away trying to wrestle the wheel over to me. The worst part is – I'm also partially blindfolded! At least with blinders on – knowing that I'm right and if this fool would just hand me the wheel...

Cry out – to GOD. He's an incredibly powerful God. He's got mad skills – made the world in 6 days and then was smart enough to kick back for rest. (another one of my problems for another time).

The Bible is full of people crying out, lamenting, and asking why: the people in the desert asking Moses WHY he brought them out here to die in the wilderness, Job cried out and lamented for CHAPTERS (the original Blues - Obliterate the day I was born. Blank out the night I was conceived! Let it be a black hole in space. May God above forget it ever happened. Erase it from the books! - even teenage angst has nothing on Job!). One of my favorite tales of crying out is from 1 Kings – Elijah is on the run. Jezebel wants him dead after his showdown with the prophets of Baal.

He flees and after leaving his servant in Beersheba, he goes another day into the wilderness finally coming to rest under a solitary broom tree. Further into seclusion. There – this mighty prayer warrior of God, the one only recently prayed fire from the skies to prove the power of Yaweh...prays that he might die.

It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my ancestors. Elijah is in a serious state of depression. He has had enough. He is saying “I can't do this any more Lord.” The work was stressful, exhausting, and it seemed to have accomplished nothing. The great miracle at Mount Carmel did not result in a lasting national revival or return to the Lord. Elijah probably hoped that the events on Mount Carmel would turn around Ahab and Jezebel and the leadership of Israel. But Elijah forgot that people reject God despite the evidence, not because of the evidence.

He says he is no better than his ancestors. When he looks at the apparent failure of his ministry he instinctively blames his own unworthiness.

I think we can all relate to Elijah's despair. At some point in our lives we've all gotten to the point where we say, “what's the point? I can't go on. I don't want to go on.” Most of us have gotten to the end of our rope at some point in our lives. Maybe we were overwhelmed by a family issue or something at work or even felt burned out in our faith or church ministry. Perhaps you or someone you know has even lay under the broom tree and wanted to give up completely. Prayed for death.

God didn't grant Elijah's prayer for death. He gave him something else.

In the midst of this great despair, God sent an angel. Not with a pep talk...he took care of Elijah's physical needs first. This is not always His order, but physical needs are important. Sometimes the most spiritual thing a person can do is get enough rest and replenishment.

God sent Elijah on a 200 mile, 40 day trip to Mount Horeb, also known as Mount Sinai. God didn't demand an immediate recovery – he allowed his prophet time to recover from his spiritual depression. Lamenting and mourning. They are a natural response to challenges in life.

Then the word of the Lord came to him, saying, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” How often have we heard that? Sometimes when we think things are starting to smooth out – God says, “What are you doing here?” God knew the answer, but he allowed Elijah to speak freely and unburden his heart:

Elijah answered, “I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away. He protests to God, “I have faithfully served You and now look at the danger I'm in!” To Elijah – and many servants of God since – it seemed unfair that a faithful servant of God should be made to suffer. And strangely, the reasons that Elijah provided for wanting to give up, are actually the critical reasons he should stay alive! If he really was the last prophet or believer alive, should he not seek to live as long as possible? If the enemies of God like Jezebel wanted him dead, shouldn't he seek to defeat her wicked ways? But this is what fear and unbelief will cause in us!

So, what did God do after he let Elijah vent? After Elijah said, “I've served you faithfully but now I'm running for my life and the children of Israel have broken their covenant, torn down your altars and killed your prophets and I'm all that's left...” “I'm really, really good and they're really, really bad. Life isn't fair. Nobody loves me, everybody hates me, I think I'll eat a worm....”

God says, “Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.” Oh man. Get ready. Daddy's home and now you're gonna get it. The last time God manifested himself on this mountain Moses' face glowed so much that people were frightened of him.

Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but theLord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence.

Elijah cried out to the Lord and Lord let him know who was in the driver's seat.

Elijah knew. He sensed the presence. He wrapped his face in his mantle and stood at the entrance of the cave. He knew that God was present in the still small voice, the gentle whisper – in a way that He was not in the more dramatic phenomenon. Because of that special presence of God, Elijah humbled himself by covering his face. He was subdued. He was awe-stricken. Full of reverence. Oh, what a wondrous thing. To be humble enough to admit that we are human. Sinners. In need of grace.

And then the voice of God asked again, “What are you doing here, Elijah?”

I'm not sure that after a wind that was breaking rocks or an earthquake or fire...that I would have had the guts to give the same answer as before...but Elijah says again, perhaps more humbly? “I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away.”

There is nothing wrong with his answer. It is an honest answer. “I've been working for you faithfully, I feel all alone and I fear for my life.” I think we all agree that we have felt this way – maybe we don't have the death threat over our heads from Jezebel. Maybe we fear something else for our lives. Maybe we are afraid that our friends won't understand if we are a prophet for the Lord. Maybe we are afraid that our lives will change if we become zealous about our faith. Maybe there is something that we don't want to give up in our lives.

Perhaps we are feeling all alone in our walk. Perhaps we think nobody cares enough about the ministry of the church that we are most passionate about. Maybe we are still laying under the broom tree hoping for an angel to come and give us hope and encouragement.

God's answer to Elijah was not what I expected. If I were Elijah I would have been hoping for a “well done my good and faithful servant, here's your cushy arm chair and an unlimited supply of snacks.” I might have settled for “you poor thing. Why don't you take a vacation and go contemplate the stars and the vastness of the universe?” I sure wouldn't have wanted God's answer to Elijah.

“Go, return on your way to the wilderness of Damascus; when you arrive, you shall anoint Hazael as king over Aram”...and so on, and so on...

A work assignment? Really?

But that is exactly what Elijah needed. Something to do. He needed a task to focus on so he could avoid excessive introspection. He needed to stop looking at himself and his own (admittedly difficult) circumstances. He needed to get on with what God wanted him to do. He sent him off about his Master's business again. I will bet you that when he went back over that road, it was with a different step than what brought him down to Beersheba. He came along terrified and depressed; now he goes back having witnessed majesty. He's not going to be afraid of Jezebel now!

Elijah is like all of us – we can be overwhelmed and burned out. We can feel lost and alone. God provided exactly what Elijah needed. Rest and rejuvenation, time for reflection, a glimpse of his majesty and power – and then the last piece: a kick in the pants.

Lament – sure. Life is hard sometimes.

Cry out – recognize there is something more powerful than you at work here.

Mourn – but then you've got to go to the next step.

Move on. Get back to why we are here. Show love to everyone you meet. Take the gift of God's love and spread it all around. Love – it's the KEY!

In his commentary on Galatians 6:10, Jerome tells a famous story of "blessed John the evangelist" in extreme old age at Ephesus. He used to be carried into the congregation in the arms of his disciples and was unable to say anything except, "Little children, love one another." At last, wearied that he always spoke the same words, they asked: "Master, why do you always say this?" "Because," he replied, "it is the Lord's command, and if this only is done, it is enough."

Listen again to Psalm 130 from Eugene Peterson's The Message:

Help, God—the bottom has fallen out of my life!
Master, hear my cry for help!
Listen hard! Open your ears!
Listen to my cries for mercy.

If you, God, kept records on wrongdoings,
who would stand a chance?
As it turns out, forgiveness is your habit,
and that’s why you’re worshiped.

I pray to God—my life a prayer—
and wait for what he’ll say and do.
My life’s on the line before God, my Lord,
waiting and watching till morning,
waiting and watching till morning.

O my people, wait and watch for God—
with God’s arrival comes love,
with God’s arrival comes generous redemption.
No doubt about it—he’ll redeem his people,
buy back us all from captivity to sin.

O Father, thank you for being so in love with us. Even though we are a big old mess. Forgive us when we whine and want our way. Help us to believe in your power and your unconditional love. Help us to be patient with each other. Let your church be a shining beacon reflecting your love.

Dancing in a Hurricane

This message was first delivered at Court Street United Methodist Church in Lynchburg, Virginia on June 20, 2015. It is based on the lectionary text of Mark 4:35-41.

Today is Father's Day and looking around this sanctuary, I can see that there are a lot of good dads in the room. But what makes a good dad? The old joke is that fathers have photos in their wallet where money used to be! Paul Harvey wrote the following about fathers:

What Are Fathers Made Of?
by Paul Harvey

A father is a thing that is forced to endure childbirth without an anesthetic.

A father is a thing that growls when it feels good -- and laughs very loud when it's scared half to death.

A father never feels entirely worthy of the worship in a child's eyes. He's never quite the hero his daughter thinks, never quite the man his son believes him to be -- and this worries him, sometimes.

So he works too hard to try and smooth the rough places in the road for those of his own who will follow him.

A father is a thing that gets very angry when the first school grades aren't as good as he thinks they should be. He scolds his son though he knows it's the teacher's fault.

Fathers are what give daughters away to other men who aren't nearly good enough so they can have grandchildren who are smarter than anybody's.

Fathers make bets with insurance companies about who'll live the longest. Though they know the odds, they keep right on betting. And one day they lose.

I don't know where fathers go when they die. But I've an idea that after a good rest, wherever it is, he won't be happy unless there's work to do.

He won't just sit on a cloud and wait for the girl he's loved and the children she bore.

He'll be busy there, too, repairing the stairs, oiling the gates, improving the streets, smoothing the way.

Thank you Paul Harvey – that is a good description of fathers in general. Although my Dad isn't here today – he's over at Centenary, sitting in his usual place in the balcony – there isn't a day that I don't thank God for giving me the gift of a wonderful earthly father. Don't get me wrong, I know he isn't perfect...I would describe him as “quirky.”

Dad is easily frustrated by refrigerators. He is convinced that the contents of the refrigerator have rearranged themselves (surely he doesn't blame us!) in order to hide things. The pickles hide the jelly, the mustard hides the relish and the good Lord only knows where the mayo is hiding! I'll admit that he has a point sometimes - if I were to count the contents of the fridge we would have at least 5 different mustards, 7 different pickles and an even dozen or more jars of jelly. You know...yellow mustard isn't enough, got to have dijon and stone ground and honey mustard and spicy brown and something called dijonaise which is a blend of mustard and mayo... And certainly Dad would be perfectly happy with cherry preserves and grape jelly - but sometimes when wandering through the market we are tempted to add things like fuzzy navel, raspberry cognac, apricot/kiwi and blackberry preserves...till we have quite the collection of little pint jars.

As much as Dad hates refrigerator mysteries...that is how much he LOVES rope. Anytime you need to tie something down or keep a float from escaping - you can always count on my Dad to have a rope, string, shoelace, bungee cord or strap to fit the bill. You will almost certainly need to untangle it from its brothers - but that is part of the charm. (much like finding the correct washer in his collection of jars and loaf pans of random hardware) And he can never turn down a free piece of rope. I think one of my bonding experiences with Dad was one afternoon when we were driving out into the country to mow a yard for someone. We were on a back road and as we passed around a bend I saw a short length of rope lying in the road. I knew that he had also seen it - but I guess since I was driving, he figured it was not meant to be his. Without even asking, at the next cross road, I turned around and drove back. It was about 15 or 20 feet long but (I can't believe I'm saying this) it was a nice piece of rope. And it made him happy.

Some of my mental images include hiking with him along the Blue Ridge Parkway - if it had rained he would hurry a little ahead of us, hide behind a tree and shake it just as we went under...yelling "hey, it's raining!!" Or when we would go swimming and he would get everyone to start "rocking the pool" - everyone cannonballing as fast as we could until there were 2 foot waves on the surface! (I was always kind of proud of the fact that he was the only adult that the lifeguards made sit out)

There are quiet memories too...like watching him wrap his arm around my Mom's shoulder at a funeral, or teaching Bible study to a dozen youth sprawled around on a basement floor, or especially when I was feeling so desperately low after losing a job...how he shared how he felt when the company he had worked at for over 25 years closed its doors.

I've often said that I can completely understand the concept of a loving Heavenly Father - because I have experienced the most incredible earthly one. He's an anchor, a foundation and steadfast. Everyone deserves a father like mine.

In the Gospel of Mark we read a story about Jesus and a storm:

Mark 4:35-41 The Message (MSG)

The Wind Ran Out of Breath

Late that day he said to them, “Let’s go across to the other side.” They took him in the boat as he was. Other boats came along. A huge storm came up. Waves poured into the boat, threatening to sink it. And Jesus was in the stern, head on a pillow, sleeping! They roused him, saying, “Teacher, is it nothing to you that we’re going down?”

Awake now, he told the wind to pipe down and said to the sea, “Quiet! Settle down!” The wind ran out of breath; the sea became smooth as glass. Jesus reprimanded the disciples: “Why are you such cowards? Don’t you have any faith at all?”

They were in absolute awe, staggered. “Who is this, anyway?” they asked. “Wind and sea at his beck and call!”

Jesus told the storm to settle down and it did.

A good father is that sort of anchor. In the midst of life's storms he can be the calm. A good father walks the walk, doesn't just talk the talk through the storm. But not every child has a good earthly father.

David Blankenhorne writes in his book, Fatherless America, that "tonight, about 40 percent of American children will go to sleep in homes in which their fathers do not live". "Fatherlessness," argues Blankenhorn, "is the most harmful demographic trend of this generation.” “Fatherlessness is a defining feature of American childhood.” 40% don't have that anchor of a good father. 40% don't have the joy of finding a gift of rope in the road. Don't have the arm wrapped around their shoulder when life's storms threaten to swamp the boat.

I work with Centenary's Thursday after school program called JIFF (Juniors in Fun and Fellowship). It has been a few years back that I found my mom wiping away tears at the end of the evening. She told me that one of the girls had been chatting with her and asked how many kids she had. Mom replied that she had 5 kids, 4 girls and one boy. She wasn't prepared for the next question. Usually when someone finds out that she has 5 kids, the next questions are about how you feed that many or how you find the money for vacation or how the kids get along. Not this time. The next question was, “do any of them have the same father?”

Do any of them have the same father? Fatherlessness – absent fathers, unknown fathers, too busy fathers and disconnected fathers have been so commonplace today that it was unfathomable to this young lady that you could have 5 kids with the same father. It's so far outside my perspective that it could be any other way.

Mom was able to share that not only do all 5 kids have the same father – he is still around and was actually there leading the 6,7,8 grade boys group.

Is it any wonder that society seems to be in the midst of a hurricane? Without the anchor of good fathers in the world, it must be very difficult to wrap your head around the concept of a loving heavenly Father.

The storm that the Gospel of Mark relates is sudden and violent – like the violent life storms that we all face: the loss of a job, the death of a loved one, the unexpected diagnosis. How do we deal with those storms?

The geography of the Sea of Galilee makes it especially susceptible to sudden violent storms. This is part of the reason that the gospels generally describe Jesus and the disciples sailing more or less along the shoreline rather than directly across the open body of the sea. If you were closer in, you could make a tack for the shore and ride out a sudden storm with minimal damage.

But in this story, Jesus says, “Let’s set out for the opposite shore.” That meant sailing directly across the sea. And worse, it was getting dark, which meant the temperatures were more unstable. That a storm would suddenly arise on this sea under these conditions is unremarkable. What is remarkable is that Jesus would lead his ship and the others with them to cross this sea at this hour. He had to know he was likely leading them into serious danger. Meanwhile, he went to sleep on a pillow, leaving the disciples to face the violent storm on the open sea.

This kind of experience is the heart of many initiation rites and survival training programs across many cultures and times. When they face danger together, initiates learn both the limits and the depth of their resources.

These disciples learned their limits right away. The storm was too big for them. And it was too big for them even to be respectful of their master. Their words (“Don’t you care we are about to be capsized?”) reveal panic and disrespect at once. What happened next slammed them against more of their own limits. Jesus told the sea to “shut up,” just like he had told demons before, and the wind stopped and there was an immediate calm. And the disciples were in AWE. Jesus’ probing questions teach them even more. “Why are you so frightened? Do you have no faith at all?”

Jesus does not rebuke the disciples. He rebukes the storm. He tells it to shut up, and it does. That’s what terrifies them. “Who is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?”

There is little in this story that fits a domesticated Jesus or a domesticated Christianity. This is Jesus, weird and wild. This is Yoda sending Luke Skywalker into a cave, knowing he won’t prevail. This is Morpheus telling Neo to leap across a chasm to a building on the other side. This is a mother bird forcing her barely fledged chicks out of the nest to fly. This is a father climbing with his child to the top of the high diving board and saying, “Jump.”

The father making the hardest move any good father can make – allowing the child to test his wings, to try...and even allowing the child to fail so he can learn from the experience. Can you think of times in your life that you were allowed to fail so you could learn? Have you done that for your child? This is part of fatherhood – of parenthood – of childhood.

And yet, 40% of children will go to sleep in a home tonight without their father in the home. In a life full of storms and struggles and the challenges of daily living – so many will lack the anchor of being in relationship with their earthly father. How can we expect them to believe in a loving Heavenly Father?

As a church and as individuals we can extend the example of good fatherhood into a world that desperately needs to have those anchors and foundations. We can volunteer for programs like Big Brothers/Big Sisters, Jubilee Center or JIFF. We can reach out to the neighborhood child or teach Sunday school or coach little league...the possibilities are endless.

We can be the anchor in a storm – the peaceful resting spot.

Brandi Carlile wrote a song called “The Eye” and one lyric that is repeated over and over is “You can dance in a hurricane, but only if you're standing in the eye.” The eye of a storm is that place, in the midst of the tempest that is calm. On the NOAA (National Oceanic & Atmospheric Association) website the eye of a storm is defined as a roughly circular area of comparatively light winds and fair weather found at the center of a severe tropical cyclone. Although the winds are calm at the axis of rotation, strong winds may extend well into the eye. There is little or no precipitation and sometimes blue sky or stars can be seen.

The storm hasn't completely passed and you had better be well aware that it is going to be building again (the National Weather Service warns that A common mistake, especially in areas where hurricanes are uncommon, is for residents to exit their homes to inspect the damage while the calm eye passes over, only to be caught off guard by the violent winds in the opposite eyewall.) But even though the eye isn't the END of the storm...it is a chance to take a breath and get ready for the rest of the hurricane.

My dad has often been that oasis in the stormy periods of life. He's also been a guide and an anchor. My heavenly Father is the same – if I will remember to call on him and lean into him during the rough patches, I can dance – even in a hurricane.

And I thank God for all the fathers who remind us of what our Heavenly Father is like: recall some of the descriptive words from Paul Harvey's essay -

enduring, growling, laughing, heroic, worried, working, loving. Above all – our Heavenly Father is loving.

Go forth and do likewise.