The readings appointed for today can be found here
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Nurturing Hope
I remember scrubbing so hard
at the paper with my eraser that I would tear a hole. Smudged, dirty, ripped.
And, then crumpled. A new
paper needed.
The old discarded.
Imperfect.
Marred by my own heavy
handedness and insistence upon perfection.
I’d messed up. I’d done it
wrong.
And, in my frustration. Tears
and tears.
My own mini-apocalypse as I
looked down upon my creation and deemed it imperfect.
Strike through. Delete that.
It’s not right.
It’s not good.
It is broken and discarded.
Cast away from my hands and
hidden in the darkness.
And, leaving me there. Disappointed
and frustrated. And, afraid. Afraid to try again.
Afraid that I would make a
mistake and be seen as imperfect.
As broken.
As useless.
Afraid, that I too would be
thrown away, cast away as a failure.
Do you understand apocalypse?
Do you understand fear? Do you understand the anxiety as we stand in the midst
of brokenness and destruction?
From “me too” to tax codes.
From Larpenteur to White Earth.
Can you understand the pain
and the yearning of those who recognized the truth of their own iniquity and
begged for God to, “tear open the heavens and come down!”?
I can understand.
I can understand the pain of
a people who’d survived exile and had returned to their homeland—only to find
that their city, Jerusalem has become a “desolation”.
Have we not seen desolation?
In today’s political climate,
I can understand the lament of the psalm, “you make us the scorn of our
neighbors; our enemies laugh among themselves”.
Have we not seen the news?
I can understand how the
Gospel of Mark’s little apocalypse…falling stars, a darkened sun…was good news.
Have you too not longed for a
new day?
Tear it up, rip it down,
scream to the heavens, stand up, speak up, cry out!
But, no, not to destroy!
Not to destroy!
Did you not hear, the promise
of spring in the budding fig? Did you not hear the call of the Shephard?
A new day is coming. And, on that day, all which is broken will be
brought to perfection.
The fig tree blossoms—it is not destroyed. New life, not death, redemption
not damnation. Transformation and not destruction.
Which brings us to the power of
the cross.
The cross where we witness
God’s abiding promise that violence and destruction cannot and will not win.
The cross, where despair gives
way to hope.
The cross, where we claim our
truth that nothing can destroy the love that endures all things.
The love that restores. The
love that claims us as God’s own. The love that offers us grace and peace from
God.
The love that makes us one
with the Christ who abides.
Abide in me as I abide in you.
By being part of the body of
Christ, we are part of a body that cannot be destroyed. By being part of the
body of Christ, we are enriched with the knowledge that will strengthen us as
we wait.
But, not passively, waiting
is not passive. Because as we wait, by nature of our participation in the body
of Christ that surpasses all human boundaries, we are called to the work of
creation.
We are called to participate
in an apocalypse not of destruction, but of transformation.
Creating a new world—not through
damnation but through redemption.
We have an opportunity in
this Advent season to prepare for a new creation, the birth of Christ.
A birth which transforms. A
birth which offers us hope.
Perpetual hope, and a truth
that what is old will pass away, not because we will destroy it—but because we
will transform it.
There are some who will wonder
that I can speak of hope.
Haven’t we seen enough to
despair? Haven’t we cried out, only to be silenced? We’ve marched, voted,
given, shared, taught, and preached—where is the fruit of our efforts? Where is
this promised transformation? Where?
I want to save the world now.
I don’t want to wait. Tear it up, rip it down, scream to the heavens!
But, what to scream? What to cry
out?
The truth?
The truth?
Christ will be born.
A baby will be born, has been
born already into a new creation. A new creation where they will learn about
their own privilege; where they will hear of God’s love for all people, not
just their people. A new creation where empathy and understanding are held as core
values. A new creation where no means no, and consent is modeled and taught.
In this new creation, giving
out of abundance is a given and not an option. In this new creation, truth is
spoken in love. In this new creation, our children will hear the story of Jesus
the Christ as THEIR story. THEIR story, a story in which love endures, evil is
overthrown, and hope wins out.
And, this is where I find
hope—because the baby has been born, our
babies, those who cry out, fuss, laugh, and screech. They are being
equipped with the speech and knowledge of every kind that they will need. That they
will need to claim the knowledge and love of God as a means to take this
imperfect world and transform it, not destroy it.
Transform it, because they
will know that no one is useless, no one is beyond repair. They will know that imperfection
is opportunity. They will know, from the hard truths and beautiful truths we
name, that this is the beginning of a beauty that we have yet to imagine but
that they will envision.
I want to end with a book, a
book that I wish had been there when I was a child weeping over my mistakes and
destroying my own creation. “Beautiful Oops” by artist and illustrator Barney
Saltzberg,
“A torn piece of paper is
just the beginning.
Every spill
Has lots
Of possibilities
Bent paper
Is something to celebrate!
A little drip of paint…
Lets your imagination run
wild.
A scrap of paper
Can be fun to play with.
A smudge and a smear
Can make magic appear
A stain has potential if you
play with its shape.
Holes in your paper are worth
exploring.
See! When you think you have
made a mistake,
Think of it
As an opportunity to make
something
Beautiful.”
The potter sees the
opportunity. The potter never lets go of the clay…
And in the potter’s hands a
broken world and a sinful people will be transformed.
Redemption, not damnation.
Creation, not destruction.
Invitation, not rejection.
An invitation, in this Advent
season, to be co-creators. Co-creators with the already born, yearned for,
longed for, Christ.
Amen.
1 comment:
This December 4 sermon is powerful in its poetic simplicity. I am sorry I was out west and unable to hear it in person, because I think it would have had even more impact on me. Thanks for reminding all of us regardless of our age how we give up too easily and can be our own worst enemies. Premature judgment of every kind is an enemy of us all. All is process, and we forget that at our peril.
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