Sermon for December 7th 2008

December 7th 2008
Peace on Earth by Ann Weems:

Peace on earth, goodwill to all …
The song came out like one loud hosanna
Hurled through the earth’s darkness,
Lighting the Bethlehem sky.
Sometimes I hear it now,
But it means a baby in a manger;
It means a time of year,
A cozy feeling,
A few coins in the salvation army bucket.
It doesn’t mean much –
And then it’s gone,
Lost in the tinsel.

Where did the angels’ songs go?
Who hushed the alleluias?Was it death and war and disease and poverty?
Was it darkness and chaos and famine and plaque?
Who brought violence and took away the sweet plucking
of heavenly harps?
Who brought despair and took away hope>Who brought barreness and crushed the flowers?
Who stole the music and brought the silence?
What Herods lurk within our world seeking to kill our children?
Are there still those who listen for the brush of angel wings
And look for stars above some godforsaken little stable?
Are there still those who long to hear an angel’s song
And touch a star?
To kneel beside some other shepherd
In the hope of catching a glimpse of eternity in a baby’s smile?
Are there still those who sing
“peace on earth, good will to all?”
If there are – then, O Lord,
Keep ablaze their flickering candle
In the darkness of this world …

I can’t say that I love the Chirstmas season. One of the reasons is that I know that many people struggle to find the Joy and peace of the season because of circumstances beyond their control. I don’t enjoy the hype and emphasis that goes with Christmas.

I do however, love the stories and the pageantry of Christmas – the reasons – the REAL reason for the season. I love the mystery that goes along with the narrative of the events in Bethlehem.

In the Advent season with its emphasis on preparation and making ready for the coming of Christmas I find myself thinking about the contrast between the beautiful almost poetic stories of Christmas and the earthy reality of the so-called Holy Land and the people who live there.

In the late 1980’s I was fortunate to be part of a University of Toronto study tour to the middle east and particularly to Israel. We left Toronto in mid-May and until the end of June were residents of Tantur ecumenical institute just north of Bethlehem … we could take a bus north and in 20 minutes be standing outside the gates of the Old City of Jerusalem, or we could walk south and in 20 minutes be standing outside the doors of the Church of the Nativity in Manger Square in Bethlehem.

Our university classes were reinforced by trips through Jordan, Galilee, Egypt and out into the Judean Wilderness where we would often pause on the presumed site of some Biblical or Historical event and have a laid back university lecture on the significance of both the event AND the site where we were basking in the warm Mediterranean sunshine.

This season, filled with stories of Scrooge, The Grinch, the Shepherds and angels, and others who encounter something wholly unexpected, but definitely HOLY carries the implied sub-text of transformative miracles that alters lives – the whole point of the Christmas story is the power of God taking the mundane and TRANSFORMINING it into something extraordinarily holy …

During this time of the year, I often find myself very mindful of the six weeks I lived within view of Bethlehem, and all of the experiences, the people and the places that brief chapter in my life represents … Bethlehem is a tiny town nestled on the hills south of Jerusalem. There is nothing remarkable about Bethlehem other than the historical association with the birth stories of Jesus that have subsequently drawn attention, pilgrims and religious meaning to this tiny town … I chose the hymn we just sung because one night I remember standing on the roof of Tantur – the institute we were staying at – and looking south to the lights of Bethlehem as a Palestinian demonstration was unfolding somewhere in her darkened streets …

As we heard the sound of conflict – the shouting – the barked orders over a pa system to disperse, offered in Arab, English and Hebrew – as we watched the smoke from tear gas canisters floating over the Holy Town of Bethlehem, I found myself singing softly the song – “O Little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie …” The irony of the soft gentle words of the song contrasted sharply with the reality of the ongoing occupation by the Israelis, and the even harsher reality of the first Intifada which was then ramping up …

We had in the previous days skirted street demonstrations and the counter action by the Israeli army – in one instance a metal door opened and an Arab family beckoned us in and fed us sugary treats and strong sweet arab coffee until the all-clear was sounded and we were sent on our way – SAFELY.

We had learned the underside of the occupation – and so that night under the stars over Bethlehem – a night not unlike the one we will soon read about that found shepherds on the very hill where we were standing hearing the message about the birth of a child … a child that embodied the transformation through God’s grace …

That night though, we were not thinking of shepherds and angels and softly light stables with quiet animals watching over a tiny baby in a manger – but the struggle for FREEDOM that was being waged by 10 and 12 year old children who stood before armed soldiers with modern weapons, and used stones to say – “WE WANT TO BE FREE AND LIVE IN PEACE …”

The contrast between our deeply entrenched visions of Bethlehem and what is represents in our religious understandings – and the reality of what Bethlehem is was sharp … soft focused images of stables and the baby was a world away from what was really going on in the streets of the holy town … and that perhaps is the whole point of the Christmas story …

In the cold harsh reality of a world that is enveloped with poverty, violence, war, crime and countless other issues that divide people from one another and tear communities apart … in THAT reality we prepare for a moment in history when God enters our world in a radically different way … it begins with the words of Mary we heard this morning … words that see a lot of potential in the life of the unborn child …words of promise and power …

Mary’s song – the magnificat - is a powerful proclamation of what Jesus’ ministry was to be about. The Magnificat is the embodiment of those hopes and fears that we sing about each Christmas season and think nothing of as we say the words … The Magnificat is a powerful proclamation of what God is about to do in our world … transformation … but there is no flaming chariot and sword carrying heavenly beings … the way we are preparing is for the powerful servant of God, who comes to us as a tiny frail child … a baby …

Do we dare ?

The message of the prophets – the core of the Christmas story – what we are preparing for is that transformative experience that comes from God entering history through a child … the most unexpected of arrivals … in a time and place where people are giving up hope …

Poet Ann Weems, who we began with speaks of this season – this waiting – this preparation with the words:

Church is Advent,
The unwrapping of God’s greatest gift is near.
Advent – coming.
God will take away the tinsel
And decorate our human hearts in hope
So that Christians can sit laughing in the rain,
Knowing tha the Lord is going to shine in upon their being.
For no matter how long the darkness,
God will send the Light.
In spite of cursing and violence and the massacring of human dignity, we will dance in the streets of Bethlehem, for He will be born!

Our journey leads us forward to a town whose reality is anything but a soft focused pageant, and that perhaps is the point of the Advent Journey … to speak to us in time and place when we least expect to find the transformative power of the HOLY …

May it be so - thanks be to God - Let us pray ...