Silent Night: Sermon from December 27th, 2015

Silent Night

Scripture: Luke 2:1-14

There is a moment every Christmas Eve that I cherish.  It’s a moment in Christmas candlelight service – has anyone here ever been to candlelight service?   It’s the moment after scripture tells the birth story, after the beautiful music has lifted us up, and after the Pastor has given us something to think about…  it’s that moment when the church lights are slowly dimmed to blackness, and all in attendance have put on their coats and grasp their candle in readiness, and one by one the tall candles at the end of the pews are extinguished, and darkness creeps towards the center of the church until all you see is the lone advent candle, holding firm in the silence of the darkness. 

And as all eyes are upon it as the only source of light, the Pastor says something like, “for darkness had overtaken the world, and chaos reigned…but into this darkness was born light, and darkness could not overcome it.”

Then the Pastor lights a candle from the single flame, and passes it to two ushers.

And at that moment, timidly from the shaky place deep in our hearts, starting from a whisper in the darkness, we begin, “Silent Night…holy night…all is calm, all is bright…” 

The ushers bring the flames to the first people in the first pew.  As they catch the flame, and pass it to their neighbor, light begins to filter back into the sanctuary.

And our singing grows stronger. “Silent Night. Holy Night.  Shepherds quake at the sight…”

By then the ushers have met with almost every pew, and the circle of light continues to grow in ripples from the heart of the sanctuary where that Advent candle that still stands tall, but is no longer alone.

And this reminds me, so clearly, how love spreads.  One by one, in ripples.

You see, when I’m at home, in my home church, I sing in the choir at Christmas Eve.  The choir sits in a half-circle behind the Pastor, facing all the other people in the pews.  So I have a special vantage point during this Christmas ritual.  I get to watch it from an elevated angle – and the experience of watching this part of the Christmas service is almost as good as all the singing.

By this time, when all the peoples’ candles are lit, we are usually onto my favorite verse – the third.  And as we sing, “Son of God, love's pure light, Radiant beams from Thy holy face”…I think about how radiance is beaming from each holy face in that sanctuary.  In that moment, as the sanctuary glows from within, it’s like each individual person is also glowing from within. In each face, I see reflected the light of Jesus - love’s pure light - placed in each of us by God.   

That’s how love spreads.  There have been times when I have sat in the pews during this service and enjoyed the moment. But you don’t see the ripples when you are in the ripples.  From far away – from my seat in the choir – it’s easy for me to see how light spreads from the center Advent candle, into our hearts and out into the world.   And, when we stand side by side in love, the light becomes a unified glow from within – single flames that become a block of light to extinguish darkness.

Our scripture this morning comes from the book of Luke.  As Saint Luke – or San Lucas – begins his gospel, he says he intends to set forward an ‘orderly account’ of the activities that take place in those times.  I appreciate that, because right now nothing feels orderly… am I right?  In fact, things feel kind of dark and chaotic.

 

It’s Christmas in Chicago, but there’s no snow on the ground.  In fact – on Christmas day my niece took a picture of a dandelion on green grass!   Last week some parts of the US had tornadoes – 24 tornadoes!  In December!  If you went to Michigan Avenue last week, you were more likely to find protestors than presents to buy.  The State of Illinois hasn’t had a budget since last July, and yet yesterday morning the paper said that leaders might not pass a budget until after the primaries next March!  There are bombings in Paris and shootings at office holiday parties, and political candidates suggesting that the only way to guard against it is to label a whole group of people with a mark similar to the Jewish Star worn in Germany in the 1930’s.

Every day seems to get crazier.  It feels like the world is in darkness, chaos is all around, and fear is just below the surface.

Fear.  Fear is a big motivator.  Fear is a strong persuader.  Fear seems to be what the politicians are peddling this year.  In chaos, it’s easy to let fear win.  But you don’t have to give into it.

In the midst of a silent night in the desert, an angel of the Lord appears to some unsuspecting shepherds, out of nowhere. The Greek and Hebrew words for angel actually mean ‘messenger’ – so this messenger from the Lord may have been a winged heavenly body, but could also have been a stranger walking along the road.  Perhaps half asleep, the shepherds were terrified of this stranger in front of them.  But the messenger tells the shepherds, “Do not be afraid.”  “I bring good news.” “This is a sign for you.”

Do not be afraid. “Fear Not” is in the bible over 80 times.  God wants us to shrug off fear, and to trust.  Trust God. Trust your neighbor. Trust love.  There is nothing that requires more courage than to reject fear – especially fear of what we do not know.   That’s what makes a good horror film – right?  It’s the mystery of not knowing what we should be afraid of that is scariest of all.  God says, over and over, “Be not afraid,” because God knows the destructive power of fear.

Fear can make us hate our neighbor. Fear can make us see suspicion where there is innocence.  Fear can make us demonize and blame a whole religion or a whole race for the actions of a few.  I’ve been listening to stories from Muslim friends who are being yelled at by strangers, in stores or restaurants, and are becoming afraid to leave their homes.  Fear can make us arrest people, or harass people, just because they look like a stereotype.  This is reality for most people of color every day.  Fear can make us think criminal intent where there is only abnormal behavior.  The Black Lives Matter movement has been showing us, over and over, how tragedy and grief follows this irrational fear. Fear can make a normal person go out of their way to say nasty things to a stranger, or cause a police officer discharge their weapon when patience would do.

The Lord’s messenger tells the shepherds not to be afraid of God’s sign.  I don’t know about you, but I am a little jealous that they had a sign!  In our world today, would a sign of God’s good news be too much to ask?

It’s important to remember that Luke – San Lucas – wrote his Gospel decades, maybe even 100 years, after Jesus lived.  He wrote it in hindsight, because things can seem orderly in hindsight or, like my seat in the choir, look different from far away.  It can be difficult to see things clearly when they are happening.  And I don’t know about you, but I’m much better at recognizing signs after they’ve changed the course of my life.

When I think back, I can find the exact sign that convinced me to apply to Seminary.  I see the specific coincidences and conversations that helped me turn, consider, decide, and move forward at different points.  In hindsight, the signs are very clear.  It’s easier to read the signs once we get some distance from the problem, so we can put them in an orderly telling of the situation. 

But friends – maybe WE are the sign.  We know the Good news: we don’t need to fear because into the world a child is born.  The child will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.  This child is love’s pure light, and shows us how to bring good will to all.

Twice yesterday I read about people who sent letters to Mosques with kind words and a donation inside, letting their Muslim neighbors know that they have allies in their community.  They were being the sign of good news by saying, “do not fear.”  I saw white people, Asian people, Indian people and Latino people show that Black Lives Matter by joining them on Michigan Avenue.  I heard about dozens of residents rallying to maintain Lathrop homes.  I keep seeing displays of love’s pure light.

Because at times when fear is rampant, as it is today, God asks us to be the good news.  Fear will divide us, darkness can isolate us and chaos can confuse us – but our light will not be overcome when we are united in our love for our neighbors.  We must let that light within is – Love’s pure light – shine through our bodies to show our neighbors that we are not afraid.  In fact, that we stand with them in solidarity – radiant beams of light, united for understanding and good will – heralding the dawn of redeeming grace. Being the Good News.     

What is Truth? Sermon from November 22, 2015

Isaiah 16: 3-5Hebrews10: 15-25John 18:33-37

What is Truth?

What a contrast.

Today, as we anticipate one of our favorite American traditions celebrating gratitude to both our Creator for the bounty of the earth, and to strangers who shared their hospitality in our times of need…as we look to express our thanksgiving through special acts of kindness to people who are alone, and people who are in need, with food donations and invitations to share with us at our Thanksgiving table… the news is alive with debates about who deserves our kindness, and what criteria must be met to be welcomed to our American table.

It was difficult to listen to the news this week.  Wasn’t it?  The shock of the Paris attacks, watching the trauma, fear and grief of the victims.   And then the sadness to learn that there were also attacks in Beirut, Baghdad, and Kenya… and then Nigeria and Mali as the week wore on. And then, the almost predictable backlash against American Muslims, Muslim countries, and frankly just anyone who seems scary and threatening.

Fear and panic reigned in the news.

Sometimes it feels like this world is spinning out of control.  I know I often feel that way.  And at times of great tragedy and adversity, our instinct is to insulate ourselves and hold fast to the things that make us feel secure.  To lock the doors of our homes and lock the doors of our nation.  But locks will not keep us safe.  The foundation of what makes us secure is God’s love  … and extending that love to others.

In our New Testament scripture this morning, Jesus is on trial for crimes against the Empire.  Jesus has been accused of claiming he is a king, which is against the political laws of Rome.  But Jesus asks Pilate, “Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?” Jesus wants to know if Pilate himself has seen evidence that Jesus has broken the law of the land, or if other people have painted him as guilty.

Jesus’ question stuck with me this week as I read several statements from American Muslim groups condemning the attacks, disavowing the perpetrators of violence and lamenting the tragedy while Muslim- American friends confessed being harassed in public.  And then, Governor after Governor called for the US to pause taking in refugees.  The fear and panic that reigned in the news had found a place to land, a group to blame – someone to paint as a threat.  People that I would not suspect of guilt but who were typecast by their religion, looks or land of origin.

And again it echoed in my mind; “Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?”


The world today is scary.  It’s chaotic and violent and sometimes overwhelming.  But as long as we’ve had human history, we’ve had wars and refugees.  The passage from Isaiah talks about ancient Moab, a nation that was in many wars throughout ancient times.  While few of us in this sanctuary may have experienced the life of a refugee, we as descendants of the Judeo-Christian heritage have a long history of it.  Here in Isaiah, we hear echoes of the Israelites who were strangers in the land of Egypt.  God calls us to ^‘Give counsel, hide the fugitive, and let the outcasts of Moab settle among us, to be a refuge to them from destruction.’ 

Today we are more connected than ever before.  Through the international media, twitter, facebook, blogs and pictures.  We are exposed to the unfamiliar and the unfathomable … and that makes it easier for fear to take root over compassion. …Easier to make assumptions, to jump to conclusions, and to paint whole groups of people as the enemy.

It is natural in times of fear and chaos to grasp for control.  In fact, that’s what we saw this week, as one Presidential candidate tried to outdo the other with new ideas to safeguard against potential attacks on our shores. In a desperate display to sell ‘control’, the candidates provoked each other with promises to trample the rights, hearts, and human dignity of specific groups of Americans, immigrants and refugees. 

But the truth is, there is no policy that can guarantee our security.  What those policies can do is subject undeserving people to collective distrust, harassment, humiliation and alienation – all of which underlie the rage we see manifested in terror attacks.

We may be waiting for that time Isaiah mentioned: when the oppressor is no more and a throne is established ‘in steadfast love’.  Indeed, this is what many people were wishing for when Jesus lived.  The world felt just as upside-down to they then as it does to us now.  The ancient Jews wanted a military leader to sweep them to power, where he would rule with justice and righteousness.

But Jesus does not lead that kind of kingdom.  Jesus and Pilate are speaking two different languages.  Pilate is asking about rule, but Jesus is talking about love. Jesus is walking the earth, talking about a kingdom built on compassion and care for neighbor; forgiveness and peace; relationship and inclusion; sharing and equality.  The ‘steadfast love’ part has to come from us.

There was never a leader who could have taken responsibility for creating the world as Isaiah promised, just as there is no one policy that will solve our problems of terror, violence and insecurity today.

What we need looks a lot more like the kingdom of heaven on earth.  Jesus’ kingdom is not of this world, but it has clear instructions for how to act in this world.  Our experience of the kingdom is bound up in how we respond to that Truth to which we belong.  The only way that the refugee or outcast experiences the kingdom of heaven is if we build it…and the only way we experience the kingdom of heaven is if we’re building it on behalf of, or with, or for, those refugees and outcasts.

So I think, rather than asking ourselves whom do we keep out, the question we need to be asking ourselves is the question the Apostle Paul poses in his letter to the Hebrews: how do we provoke each other to love and good deeds?  Since God has inscribed the law upon our hearts and forgiven our sins, we must approach God with full confidence, unwavering hope, and consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds.

Did you notice that word, ‘provoke’?  Paul had no illusions that this path of love and good deeds would be easy or simple.  He was aware that it sometimes requires moral support, solidarity with others, and yes, provocation to remind us about the call to the kingdom of God.

I’ve been reading a book by Eboo Patel, the founder of Interfaith Youth Core here in Chicago, called Acts of Faith.  Patel is a second-generation Indian American, and a Muslim. He begins the book by analyzing the London bombers, 2 of whom were London citizens by birth and all who grew up in the West.  He compares his own upbringing to theirs in an attempt to unpack the detour that allowed them to be radicalized into violence, while he was not.

He says of 2^nd and 3^rd generation Muslims, “Raised in pious Muslim homes, occasionally participating in the permissive aspects of Western culture, many of us come to believe that our two worlds, our two sides of ourselves, are necessarily antagonistic.  This experience of ‘two-ness’ is exacerbated by the deep burn of racism.”  He continues, “As we grow older and seek a unified Muslim way of being, it is too often Muslim extremists who meet us at the crossroads of our identity crisis.”

Patel credits his life path partly to the YMCA, a place that ‘genuinely loves young people’, and seeks to put them in leadership positions, as well as a strong Muslim ethic for volunteerism, of which he says, “I learned something about the lives of people unlike me.  I learned to cheer for somebody other than myself.”  This interaction with people very different from himself no doubt provoked the young Eboo Patel to love and good deeds.

In response, as an adult Patel began a group where college students from different faiths and walks of life have the opportunity to work together and take leadership on projects promoting the common good.  The work boosts positive relationships and appreciation for different faith traditions and diversity.   They are building bridges to the kingdom of heaven, on earth.

Friends, the world is flush with voices of fear, Empire, and the status quo, provoking us to ever more suspicion and division.  But that is not who we are called to be!  Fear is the opposite of faith. Fear produces hate.  Faith produces love.  As the kingdom of God, we are called to be people who break the cycle of violence, fear and division.

So friends, I leave you with this question: how will you provoke one another, today, to do love and good deeds?

Amen and amen.

Whole Armor of God; Sermon from August 23rd, 2015

Joshua 24:1-2a, 14-18Ephesians 6:10-20

The Whole Armor of God

We come together here in this beautiful sanctuary to, once again, declare our belonging to God, our belonging to each other in Christian community, and our belonging to a world that is not quite the kingdom of heaven. 

I was struck by scripture in the lectionary this morning.  Joshua calls the elders together and asks them to choose what God they will serve.  He goes on to enumerate the ways God has guided and protected the community, a God who has faithfully served the Israelites.  And he asks, in their time of doubt – a theme often repeated when the Israelites find themselves in the proverbial ‘wilderness’ – to choose, once again, between the God that has been faithful, and other Dieties of their neighbors.

Many of us make that choice.  We make that choice with the elders of our faith. We make that choice amidst Christian community.  We make that choice here, by returning to this beloved sanctuary every Sunday where we are reminded of the symbols of God. 

But what happens next?

There isn’t necessarily a clear blueprint on what that means – for us, the Christians of the 21^st Century.  For Joshua’s contemporaries, choosing God came with very clear rituals for eating, cleaning, working and worshipping.  Keeping Sabbath.  Rejecting idols. Habits that were counter to the greater culture.

Similarly, the early Christian communities had to make this choice each and every day. Much like the ancient Israelites in ancient times, the early Christian communities were minority colonies trying to live counter to a strong, dominant culture – and it caused tension.  It possibly even seemed like insurrection.  Their early Christian language used to describe God and Lord was very similar to that used to describe imperial officials - especially the emperor. Even the word for their gatherings, ekklesiae, was a term for political gatherings at the local level.  You can imagine this made the ruling structure somewhat suspicious.

This is why I find the letters from Paul so inspiring.  I knew nothing about the Apostle Paul before Seminary.  In fact, I think his letters were rarely used in my congregational upbringing. So let me do a little explaining here, in case any of you grew up the same.

The Apostle Paul never met Jesus of Nazareth. He had a conversion on the road to Damascus where Jesus came to him as a vision.  He then spent the rest of his life crossing the entire Roman-Greco world planting small communities of believers from modern day Syria all the way to Greece.  On foot. He was jailed – more than once – and while confined, used these letters to sooth tempers, heal divisions, and shore up the cohesion of these communities from afar.  (and – I should be careful to be academically accurate with the Reverends Dart here – historians believe there were many leaders after Paul that used his name in their letters to receive that type of recognition.  This letter, in fact, written to the community in Ephesus in Turkey, is not necessarily written by Paul, but written with the same intention; to shore up the early Christian community’s spirits.)

This letter, then, was written for people for whom their allegiance to Christ set them at conspicuous odds with the allegiances of others in their families and cities. They were alone – except for each other.  They were, at best, suspicious, or at worst, persecuted by the greater social structure.  And, they had to do all the heavy lifting of making a community get along – like we do in church.  Perhaps for these folks a certain kind of armor would be exactly what they craved.

I know this congregation is facing that wilderness of doubt and uncertainty once again - decisions on building issues naturally becomes a struggle to understand where you belong, if not here, in this beautiful and beloved sanctuary?  You may know that is only a sign and symbol of God’s everlasting peace - but one that provides a type of armor in the broken world.

I would argue that Paul’s letter offers a blueprint for how to serve God.  Pick up the armor of God, the shield of faith, to get you through the vulnerable and uncomfortable places, and put on your proclamation shoes because that’s where the kingdom of God is.

I was thinking about this scripture when I attended a rally this week asking justice for Rekia Boyd, a part of the Black Lives Matter Campaign.  Rekia Boyd was killed in 2012, when an off-duty officer drew his weapon and shot into a crowd, aiming for a black man who he thought was drawing a weapon.  No evidence has been found that points to a weapon; the evidence points to a cell phone.  But Rekia was shot in the head and died 2 days later.  She was 22. You may have read about this case recently; a judge dismissed charges against the officer, saying that the charge of ‘involuntary manslaughter’ wasn’t strong enough for the actions of the officer and disregard for human life. Activists have been demanding an investigation for 3 years, and the dismissal of the officer from police employment.

I was thinking about the “whole armor of God”, as I attended the rally, because the anger was palpable, dozens of officers were present, and I was feeling vulnerable.  Contrary to the dozens of rallies I have planned, recruited for, and attended, I went alone, I didn’t know the area, didn’t know what to expect, and didn’t have the armor of righteous and personal indignation.  This had never happened to me.

I was craving the armor of God. But then I realized how many young black people probably crave the armor of God – or a shield of some sort - in countless situations in their everyday lives.

In the letter to the Ephesians, the people are instructed to take up their shield of faith and sword of the spirit, but the letter makes clear that the enemy is not people.  It says, “our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.” 

Theologian Walter Wink has coined a term for evil that is not temptation, and not individuals, but the “Powers and Principalities” of the world – the ‘cosmic forces of present darkness’.  By ‘power and principalities’, Wink means the overarching systems that get corrupted by the drive for power, the hunger for greed, and the desperation to sustain the system at the expense of people’s lives and livelihood.  He might talk about how individuals can get swept up in the institution that uses, and condones, or results in very evil outcomes.  How we can get addicted by consumerism until we have ravaged the worlds’ resources…or get seduced into Capitalisms’ bargains that harm workers here and around the world…or get sucked into the justice system’s narrative that uses people of color as the scapegoat for crime. 

Our struggle is not against blood and flesh, but against the spirit of evil that has taken over the system that was designed with good intentions.

Now, I know some police officers personally, and have seen their difficulty dealing with the current turmoil around police conduct and black lives in the face of the fraternity and sacrifices of police officers.  And I am not trying to assign blame.  But it is hard to deny that something must be amiss with the principality and power of the justice system.  When black people and black neighborhoods are seen as the enemy in our war on crime; when stops, arrests, and lock up rates are disproportionately higher among people of color; when loss of life is considered with callousness and disregard; when driving from NAPERVILLE to TEXAS without signaling a LANE CHANGE becomes a LIFE OR DEATH SITUATION…

There is something amiss with the powers and principalities of the justice system!

Paul says to ‘take up the whole armor of God, so that you may withstand evil.  Stand, and fasten the belt of truth around your waist, and put on the breastplate of righteousness. Be ready to proclaim the gospel of peace. And be sure to take the shield of faith.

Friends, with or without the armor of these beloved sanctuary walls, the world has a strong need for us to take up our shield of faith – for ourselves and our brothers and sisters.  Many, many congregations are having the same struggles you are here. And yet, the world needs us to fasten the belt of truth around our waists and weild the sword of the spirit, and withstand the evils of the powers and principalities as they manifest today.  If we choose to serve the Lord, we have to go to the broken places and bring our proverbial ‘armor’ – God’s grace and courage and love.

At the end of the letter, Paul (or his associate) ends with a beautiful expression of vulnerability and fear.  Pray also for me, so that when I speak, a message may be given to me to make known with boldness the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains. Pray that I may declare it boldly, as I must speak.

So friends, I ask that you pray for me, pray for the brave protestors that are attempting to proclaim their right to life, and pray for each other – that we may be bold enough to be witnesses to the Gospel, to justice, to peace. So that we may go boldly out into the world and stand for each other in this broken world. The world needs us to serve the Lord as much as ever.