Are you a New Years’ Day or New Years’ Eve?

For me, I have always enjoyed New Years’ Day a little more than New Years’ Eve. The older I get, it seems that the chasm is widening. When I was younger, the pressure was on to find what party to attend or what grand plans were to be in place to ring in the New Year. For the last several years now, I admittedly enjoy the Day more, and fall asleep to early to enjoy the Eve.

 

I think we all may put too much pressure on ourselves for New Years’ Eve. But think a moment about what you do on New Years’ Day – ahhh, nothing. No plans, no great parties, no pressure to put on yourself about who to see and where to be seen. As Christians who celebrate (and as a proud Episcopalian, I celebrate any occasion I can) holidays and events amid a secular culture, where do we find meaning? Where might we find the gospel, the good news of Jesus Christ in our celebrations and commemorations? Did you know that the church names New Years’ Day “The Holy Name of our Lord Jesus Christ”?

What does New Years’ Day represent for you? For most of us, we certainly do not see the Day as a religious day. Indeed it isn’t; at least not as the days of Christmas, Easter or Pentecost are. But New Years’ Day is a special day. It begins a new year, a new start, a new beginning. Resolutions abound and promises made. Black-eyed peas consumed to ensure good fortune for the coming year. Failures put behind as a hope-filled future is sought after. What are your hopes and dreams for 2014?

 

The gospel reading for January 1, “The Holy Name of our Lord Jesus Christ”, is the last portion of the Luke reading for Christmas Eve plus one more verse:

When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, ‘Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.’ So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them. After eight days had passed, it was time to circumcise the child; and he was called Jesus, the name given by the angel before he was conceived in the womb (Luke 2:1-15).

 

According to the New Interpreter’s Bible, “Bethlehem is a place where God came to us through the birth of a child. It is a place of mystery and wonder, far removed from the ordinary world in which we live.” Funny how secular celebrations and religious celebrations seem to comingle, isn’t it? New Years’ resolutions and placing our hopes for health and happiness for the coming year are so closely related. But what are we truly yearning for? Where and what is our Bethlehem?

 

The problematic difference between the ever-establishing New Years’ resolutions and seeking the Good News of God in Christ afresh for the coming year is that one has nothing to do with anything but our own selfish needs and desires, while the other has everything to do about others and our need to be selfless servants. My friend and colleague, the Very Rev. Barkley Thompson blogged about servant ministry, selflessness and preparation for God’s presence in our lives to be a more natural occurrence, in his blog “Second Nature” at WordPress.com, with a wonderful reflection on the Captain of the U.S. Airways flight that landed in the Hudson River in 2009. He wrote, “We are challenged—as Jesus challenges the apostles—to see ourselves as God’s servants before all other things, including our ambition, our desires, and even our needs. That’s an uncomfortable exercise for 21st Century Americans! The first step in this new understanding is to take on practices and exercises that begin to form our second nature.”

 

 

 

I hope that in the midst of your New Years’ celebrations and resolutions, that you try and include your faith journey in your plans. When we include others in our plans, when we extend grace, mercy, compassion, and love to the other in our lives – whoever the other may be – our lives will begin to look like the lives that God intended for us to live. Bethlehem will come closer. This holy place may come closer to being a reality for you, but only if you consider others, that they may rejoice with you.

 

A happy and blessed New Year for you and yours and the forgotten ones, and may we all be raised to a greater reality. May we all have a glimpse of Bethlehem, where the Holy Child comes to us. And rest. You have the whole year ahead of you!

The Christmas Extrapolation

For the Christmas episode of The Big Bang Theory sitcom this year, the writers of the show had taken their inspiration from one of – if not the most – famous of all Christmas-time movies: It’s a Wonderful Life. If you have seen the movie, you know that it is based on Jimmy Stewart’s character of a man who thought his life had no meaning and that the world would have been no different had he not been born. He is then shown what the world would have looked like without his being born, and to say the least, he was quite surprised to see the great meaning and significance of his life.

 

So the writers of the hottest sitcom on television took their inspiration from this movie. To give a little background, especially if you have never seen The Big Bang Theory, it is show based on the social lives of, well, some of the most brilliant and astute young men in the fields of science, superheroes, and comic books. In other words, it’s a show about nerds. The show centers greatly on the obsessive compulsive disordered genius, Sheldon Cooper – Dr. Sheldon Cooper – who insists on his own way based on his own logic and world perception, which is highly scientifically empirical and therefore supersedes human emotion or human reason. As a result, he’s pretty much an annoying headache to the people around him. His roommate and closest friends are continually getting caught up in Sheldon’s eccentricities as his demands that his own personal habits must be yielded to by his friends – Sheldon is intentionally controlling of his favorite place on the sofa, what meals he eats depending on the day of the week, Saturday night laundry, and a fiercely regimented bathroom schedule. Sounds like the ideal roommate, right?

 

In the Christmas episode, Sheldon goes back home to east Texas to welcome the arrival of his sister’s baby. While he was out of town, his all but plutonic girlfriend, Amy, takes the opportunity to challenge Sheldon’s friends to realize how none of them would know each other had it not been for knowing Sheldon. The rest of his buddies would never have met and become friends. The two couples who fell in love, one of them being married, would never have met. They make fun of Sheldon and complain eternally about his annoying habits and lack of social graces, but their happiness- without them giving it much thought – is very much attributable to their annoying, nerdy best friend.  A good lesson perhaps for all of us, that the least likely of people in our lives may just have the greatest impact on our happiness.

 

Now there is no Jim Parsons or Jimmy Stewart character in the Christmas narrative – but like these stories of human interaction and dependency, the narrative of God’s coming to us as a vulnerable infant is very human. The plight of Joseph and Mary, a baby born in harsh and dangerous circumstances – to the mother and child both – is a harrowing ordeal. Why would God choose to enter humanity in such a way? If you or I were God, would we choose to become human in such a way? Most likely not. Most of us would choose to be American with all the amenities that make our lives easy. We would choose a large home a nice car, money in the bank, rewarding employment; status, respect, wealth, power and influence, etcetera, etcetera. Or would we choose poverty, danger, homelessness, outcast status, vulnerability – etcetera, etcetera. Again, most of us would choose the “good” life. So why would God come to us under these most precarious of circumstances? The answer, I believe, lies in the heart of God’s love and compassion for humanity. When we suffer, God suffers too. When our hearts are broken, God’s heart is broken too.

 

I think part of the difficulty we have in better understanding the magnificence of the nativity story, is partly that, one, we have heard the story so often that perhaps it has become rote for us; and second, we may have difficulty imagining the holy family outside the context of the Bible.

 

Playwright and novelist Dorothy Sayers believed strongly that the reason why people could not see the drama in the gospel was because they saw Jesus and his disciples living in the Bible or in the stained glass windows of churches. In her essay “Nativity Play” she writes, “But they did not live in the Bible; they lived in this confused and passionate world, amid social and political conditions curiously like those of the present day. Unless we can recapture a strong apprehension of that plain fact, they will forever remain for us an assemblage of wraiths and shadows.”

 

I think she makes a good point. Like the story of “It’s a Wonderful Life” and even silly portrayals of such in a Thursday evening sitcom, these biblical stories are stories of humanity; the human struggle to find fulfillment, meaning, and joy. The conquering of those things that threaten our finding of such fulfillment and joy has been part of our history from the beginning. Our problem in finding such fulfillment lies in the fact that we continue to look in all the wrong places to fill that void. We look to our own merit and our own achievements to find fulfillment. We have bought into the human tendency to believe that material and monetary wealth will satisfy us and bring us true happiness. Perhaps this is the reason God chose to enter the world as a poor, homeless infant to peasant Jews. Perhaps material and monetary wealth are traps – or worse, lies that we continually believe will eventually satisfy us, make us happy, make us less anxious and frustrated, eventually, bring us fulfillment.

 

I am sure that you have experienced this many times in your life: you walk into a store – any store – clothing, home goods, shoes, whatever; and an associate approaches you and says “can I help you find anything?” And your canned reply is, “No, just looking.” Particularly if I am shopping with my wife, this is certainly my response; and I say it with meaning!

 

But aren’t we all looking for something? I remember a priest, long ago before I became a priest myself, saying on Christmas Eve, “what brought you here tonight? What are you looking for?” The Rev. Anjel Scarborogh writes, “When we think about the birth of Christ beyond the biblical story of what happened and consider why it happened, it leads us back to the question, “Did you find what you were looking for?” Perhaps you haven’t considered that question in this context, but do so for just a moment.

 

You are here, in this church, on Christmas. Why did you come? You didn’t have to come, you know. Maybe some here are attending church on Christmas because it’s part of your family tradition; or maybe it was to appease parents or grandparents; or maybe some of you are just accustomed to regularly attending church. But regardless of why you think you are here, ponder in your heart for a moment what you are really seeking, because perhaps something deeper brought you here. What are you really looking for?

 

If we are honest, we all have a deep longing – a sense of something missing in our lives; some nagging feeling that we are incomplete, lacking, unfulfilled. We humans are consciously aware of our fragility, our finitude, our faults and our failings. It is a fearful thing to acknowledge this truth. Most of us spend our lives running away from this stark reality by attempting to fill this hole in our soul with anything that promises to fulfill or fix us.”

 

In this night, the real people that were Joseph and Mary were scared to death. They had no place to go as Mary was getting dangerously close to giving birth. No doctors. No midwife. No alternate plan or safety net. This young couple was on their own. But they were faithful and remained steadfast in their trust in God. Surely they had doubts – we all do. But they are models for us.

 

“Mary treasured all these things in her heart” to what Susanna Metz writes, “I’m sure she treasured the lovely things, the joy of the shepherds, the visit of the kings, the birth of her beloved Child. But she also treasured the troubling things, the questions, the fear, the tensions—she held them in her soul, dealing with them with courage and faith. If we could just do the same. If we could hold the lives of others in our own hearts, be concerned about women who give birth in desperate situations, in cold, unsafe places, in war areas, or wrapped in the fear of violence, we might learn to see as God sees, to love as God loves. We might learn how better to treasure many things in our hearts and let those treasures teach us to be more human.”

 

No matter what your life circumstances are this day, God called you here to speak a word of eternal life and love to you: a love that you didn’t have to earn or prove yourself worthy to receive. God’s movement is toward us and for us in the birth of Jesus Christ.

 

For whatever reason you did come this night: I’m glad you did. Come with your questions and doubts. Come with your fear and anxiety. Come as you are; as the very human person God breathed into being. And rejoice. For to you is born this day, a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.

On A Mission From God

Whether you have seen the movie, “The Blues Brothers” or not, you are probably familiar with their famous saying that they’re on a “mission from God.” I’m not sure this is an actual divine instruction that they’d been given, but it was at least a humorous declaration given by Dan Akroyd in the 1980 film. What if we left our church every Sunday with this same declaration, that we too we’re on a mission for God. Because all kidding aside, we are.

 

Last month a few members of our youth along with a few adults, attended Missionpalooza, a diocesan-sponsored mission trip that included about 18 churches who sent a collective 185 youth and adults to Bastrop, Texas for the second year in a row. In the Texas heat, these kids participated in work teams assigned to help build sheds, rebuild decks, clear away burnt shrubbery, trees and debris, and some were chosen to build 180 bird feeders, that’s right, bird feeders...from scratch. We showed up at the site and there was a pile of fresh lumber, a table saw, a radial arm saw, screwdrivers and hammers. The job got done.

 

But there was more than just clearing debris and building bird feeders. When we engage in mission we engage others. The most memorable times the young people recall is when they have had a first-hand encounter with someone who endured loss. Their stories are harrowing. The loss they sustained was unlike any the kids have experienced. But it’s not just the stories of despair that captivate, but the stories of hope and resilience. And the best part, is that the kids—and adults, to be fair—get to be a part of this healing process. They were, for all intents and purposes, on a mission from God.

 

We too as Christians and members of St. Christopher’s and the one holy, catholic and apostolic church, are on a mission. Our mission is to bring people to the knowledge and love of God in Jesus Christ. We can do this in so many ways—by offering a smile to someone in trouble or by visiting a sick friend. We can also do this by inviting a friend to church with us, or being warm to someone visiting St. Christopher’s. We never know who God will bring into our midst or for what reason.

 

Recently, a parishioner said that a friend of hers has been thinking about visiting our church, but wasn't sure because it had been a while since they’ve been to a church and they didn't know how they might be received by the people and especially that guy up at the front of the church (the priest).

 

Many people who decide to venture back into church do so with these thoughts of doubt and reticence. They wonder if they will be judged, or made to feel like they are doomed for turning away from God. Our mission in the contemporary church, I think, is to help people overcome these feelings of judgment. I believe we have work to do in being an example of a church that reminds people that God loves us and desires nothing more than to be in relationship with us. The story of the prodigal son tells it best (Luke 15:11-32).

 

More than building sheds and cleaning up people’s lots, the kids throughout the Diocese of Texas did a big part in reminding people that there is hope and that there is a God who loves and cares for them. We are on a mission from God. That mission includes us reaching out and loving one another, caring for one another, and helping out one another. It only starts in church each Sunday. Sunday worship is not the goal or the end. Sunday worship prepares our missional spirit to go out into the world as Jesus did: healing, loving, and restoring others, and in the process, ourselves. In the words of one of my new friends, from Holy Comforter Episcopal in Spring, Texas: “Going to church is not about going to church. It's about going to be energized to go out to do mission work.”

 

Change or Transformation?

I admit it. I am now hooked on the weekly hit drama, Downton Abbey. If you are not familiar with the show, it is a story set in the fictional Downton Abbey, a Yorkshire country house and the seat of the Earl and Countess of Grantham. The show follows the early 20th century lives of the aristocratic Crawley family and their servants during the reign of King George V. Because of its aristocratic, English origin, you can imagine the rich heritage and traditions that such a family would hold fast to.

 

At the start of season three, the heir of the Earl’s estate, young third cousin and former lawyer, Matthew Crawley, came to inherit a great deal of money. As it happens, Downton was in financial  distress, and after much soul searching, Matthew decided to ensure Downton’s future by “investing” in the estate and all its holdings. The only way Robert Crawley (Lord Grantham) would accept this money, was to make Matthew a partner in the ownership of the Abbey.

 

In his new role as partner, Matthew discovers that Downton and her business holdings, mainly farms, are hemorrhaging money and need to be modernized to run efficiently. It is the rise of the Industrial Revolution, and modernization of farms and machinery is crucial to remain competitive and profitable. Now that Matthew is a partner with the Earl, he has a right to discuss the financial position of Downton, and does so with Robert.

 

The conversation goes about as well (or as poorly) as you might expect: it goes horribly. This young, modern, relatively new aristocrat wants to impose something on the family, more specifically on his Lordship: change. Steeped in tradition, wedded to its conventions and “how things have always been run at Downton”, was being challenged. This is not the kind of family that welcomed change in their lifestyle and tradition. When the American mother-in-law (played by Shirley MacLaine) visited Downton, she challenged the family continually about its need to move on from its traditions and embrace change, in her opinion – like the rest of the world.

As Downton Abbey’s third television season came to a close, we see that Lord Grantham and his wife Cora conceded that Matthew’s help in modernizing the family business had indeed strengthened and gave great promise to the future of Downton Abbey and the Crawley family that lived there.

 

In this delightful English story of history and nobility, I am reminded of the similar attitude in our churches. Especially churches in the Anglican tradition, we love of our English heritage and the beautiful and rich liturgy that our Episcopal Church does best (as far as I am concerned). Didn’t your heart soar a little bit as you watched the wedding of Prince William to Catherine? Even here in the U.S., the tradition and liturgy we see at the National Cathedral is quite moving. Remember President Reagan’s funeral? We have an attachment to these liturgical acts of worship. When we see these rites from our great tradition, in all their pomp and circumstance, we are reminded of our great love of this Church. Our traditions have great meaning and they ground us in our expression and relationship to the Divine. Tradition is so important to us that even our Anglican three-legged stool is built upon it: Scripture, Tradition, and Reason.

 

Yet, the Church is changing. The worldwide Anglican Church, the American Episcopal Church, the Diocese of Texas, and yes, even our local parishes are changing. Even within the boundaries and context of our tradition and heritage, there is room for change and indeed there is need for it. For many decades after World War Two, people flocked to churches. It was the popular and social thing to do. Going to church was part of our cultural norm. It was such the norm that the Church’s leadership became somewhat complacent. Like the stately Downton Abbey, things were going so well, it was all just fine to settle down and coast, or maintain. But just as it was with Downton Abbey, things behind the curtain weren’t so well in the life of the Church. For forty-plus years now, membership has been slipping. Buildings are aging and costs are increasing. Ministry efforts must be updated and promoted. Faith communities must be focused and vision-led. We are left to respond to a changing world. And this is actually good news!

 

The Christian Church is being called into something different. (Yes, the Christian Church, not just the Episcopal Church.) We are being called by God’s Holy Spirit to think in new ways of what it means to be God’s Church. The new generation of church seekers are looking less for a routine Sunday morning and more for a life-transforming relationship with Jesus. The Holy Spirit, maybe sort of like Matthew Crawley, is showing us something we may not want to see, but we must look. We may not want to be open to the changing culture and in turn change our attitudes about who we are as a church body, but we must. And actually, I believe we are! The greater Church is embracing change and so is St. Christopher’s. We may feel reluctant at first—perhaps not as obstinately as Lord Grantham—but as we see the wondrous challenges before us, like membership, stewardship and giving, attendance, etc., we are beginning to see some very positive developments. We may feel reluctant, skeptical or downright obstinate, but we are, dare I say, modernizing.

 

Faith communities must continue the practice of becoming more evangelical (sharing the Word), more hospitable to guests (greeting and embracing visitors), and upgrading buildings and grounds to become more vibrant missionary outposts for God’s holy Church.

 

Blessings to you this Lent.