Christmas

Occasional Sermons

Christmas

By Rebecca Clancy December 20, 2021
The Three Magi. We know nothing about them really. We don’t even know what Magi are. Magi is the Greek word that appears in the oldest biblical manuscripts, but we don’t know how to translate it, so we don’t know what it means. Scholars infer that The Three Magi were wise men or astrologers or kings, but those are just scholarly guesses. And we don’t know their names. Tradition in time gave them the names - Balthazar, Caspar, and Melchoir, but there is no hint of their names in any historical record. No, we know nothing about The Three Magi really. We don’t know what they are. We don’t know their names. For that matter, we don’t know their race, their creed, their nationality. Nothing. But we have something in common with them nonetheless. In fact we have something in common with every single human being past and present. We have all gazed into the same night sky. And it’s a marvelous thing, the night sky - the beauty of it, the immensity of it, the mystery of it. It fills us with awe and wonder. But at the same time it can fill us with unease. Because beneath the night sky, we feel so small. Long ago the night sky may not have made us feel so small. Long ago the night sky was seen as a glorious backdrop that God bequeathed his most glorious creature who stood poised at the very center of his cosmos. But science has punctured that conceit. We do not stand poised at the very center of God’s cosmos. Science has now discovered two hundred billion galaxies. There could even be two hundred billion more than that. So we don’t just feel so small. We are so small. We are tiny. We are minuscule. We are ants. Worse, we are protozoa. Worse, we are molecules. Worse, we are atoms. If there was something smaller than atoms that is what we would be. And something that small is insignificant. It doesn’t matter. But the problem is that we matter to ourselves. We matter to ourselves, and we matter to each other. We dread all the bad things out there that can and do befall us - all the catastrophes and tragedies of life. We don’t feel insignificant, but the night sky forces upon us that we are. How could we possibly matter? How could we possibly matter amidst two hundred billion galaxies? It would take a miracle. One obscure night, 2023 years ago, that miracle occurred. We sentimentalize that night. We infuse it with the aura of a fairy tale. This is a big mistake. There was nothing fanciful about that night. An impoverished teenage girl nine months pregnant journeying a hundred miles on the back of a donkey. No woman that pregnant should be traveling at all much less in that way. And with no better escort than her new husband, confused and struggling to come to terms with what was happening. Then to give birth in a stable - no light, no heat; not even a blanket for her newborn baby. Sharing the space with livestock. Children can be served the fairy tale version, but we are not children. There’s one word to describe the whole affair, and that is lowly. But here’s the miracle. Into that lowliness, the God who authored the night sky, became incarnate in his son Jesus Christ, so that God could show us, even and especially the lowly among us, that we matter. We matter so much that he sanctioned for his son a cross so that through it God could show us that regardless of how hateful and cruel and ignorant we can be, God means to bestow his own eternity upon us. And this miracle could only make any sense if God is a God of love -- love that is so infinite and vast and unfathomable that in our best and finest moments we can but get but the merest glimpse of it. Christmas is finally here. It’s always such a fun season. One good time after another. But to associate Christmas with this is to sell it woefully short. Christmas is a celebration to be sure, but it is the celebration of the miracle that we matter to God. We matter to God. But as the Bible reminds us, miracles often come with strings. If we matter to God, God should matter to us. If he does not, what does that say about us? May our lives in the coming year offer abundant proof that he does. Amen.
By Rebecca Clancy May 18, 2020
It is the evening of Christmas Eve. By now, it’s a safe bet that all of our Christmas shopping is finally complete. At least it better be. As I just said, it the evening of Christmas Eve. The eleventh hour has now come and gone. If all of our Christmas shopping is not complete, we’re in trouble. But of course, this is unlikely the case. We here are all here competent, considerate, and conscientious people, and with gifts for everyone on our lists. We have done all that is required of us. Or have we? Could there possibly be someone that we have forgotten? Could there possibly be a parent, a grandparent, a child, an aunt, an uncle, a teacher, a friend, a cause, a co-worker, a host or hostess, a letter carrier, or even a pet? And if you’re like me, you’ve run down this list and breathed a sigh of relief. All are accounted for. Mission accomplished. But what about Jesus? What about Jesus? Well, it could be argued, and it’s a strong argument, that we have him covered. He could be covered by gifts we have made to causes. And we’ve done our fair share with regard to our causes done our fair share, some of us have even gone that extra mile. And Jesus himself said, “That which you do unto the least of these my brothers or sisters, you do unto me." As I said, it’s a strong argument, but at the same time, it’s not quite the same thing as giving a gift to Jesus himself. It’s his birthday, after all. So maybe in fact that we may not have done all that is required of us. We forgot a gift for Jesus. But maybe this is not quite right We usually forget things out or carelessness or self-preoccupation or distraction. And that’s probably not afoot here. I’d wager we forgot him subconsciously, because after all, what can we possibly give him? Talk about the man who has everything! Even his detractors have to concede that he is the most influential man in all of history, but we here believe more of him. We believe him to be the Lord of Creation - that word that was in the beginning with God that was God; that word that became flesh and dwelt among us full of grace and truth. What can we possibly give him? What would be adequate or sufficient for him? What do we have that he wants? Nothing, that’s what. Imagine the ridiculousness of giving gifts to Bill Gates or Warren Buffet. Now magnify that to an infinite degree. I’d wager we forgot him subconsciously out of a sense of the sheer ridiculousness of it. He’s Jesus and we, even the best of us, are people stuck fast in sin. We forgot him because it’s not appropriate for us remember. And so let us close the case and conclude as I did originally that we have done all that is required of us.   You know, of all the characters that greet us each Christmas season – Frosty the Snowman, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, the shepherds and the angelic host, Santa Claus, Tiny Tim, George Baily, the Nutcracker, the Wise Men, Mary and Joseph, the Grinch – of the whole lot of them, one of my favorites has always been the Little Drummer Boy. Every single time I hear that song, I get a lump in my throat. And I think it is, in the last analysis, because The Little Drummer Boy gives us grounds to reopen the case. We, of course, all know his story. They told him to come, for there was a newborn king to see. And who is they? We can readily imagine. News travels fast, even if it’s really not news at all, but how much more so that this was news of celestial miracles over a nearby plain - miracles that proclaimed the birth of that king. The shepherds who bowed down before him told more shepherds, who told more shepherds, and in little time, he was told to come. For some reason he had a hunch that he should bring his drum. It was doubtless his prize possession. It was doubtless his only possession. Maybe he thought it would dress him up a bit. Maybe he thought he might have some need for it. At any rate, he came with his drum, and he approached the new born king. We who feel reluctant to give a gift to Jesus should take particular note here. If feel that we have nothing to offer him, the Little Drummer Boy had even less. He was a poor boy; in other words, he was a peasant. He had one advantage on us, though, and that advantage was simply that he was a boy. He had what all children share. He had innocence, and not innocence, mind you, that is impervious to the ways of the world, for he knew himself to be a poor boy. Rather, he had the innocence that still believes in the goodness of life, despite the ways of the world. And he had the other things all children share: sympathy and vulnerability and readiness to believe. It’s small wonder that when Jesus grew to be a man, he declared that all who came to him must do so as children. And so, the one advantage the Little Drummer Boy had on us is the key advantage, for by that advantage he knew no reluctance toward Jesus of any kind. He looked to Mary for permission to play. She, who was herself poor, and had come to learn the strange favor that God bestows upon people of no seeming consequence, nodded her approval . And he played. He played his best. And Jesus smiled. He smiled just as he would one day at the widow and her mite, at Mary of Bethany, as she anointed his feet with oil and wiped them with her hair, at the Centurion, who showed humble respect for his authority. Jesus smiled. He smiled because he appreciated the gift. It wasn’t so much the drumming. The Little Drummer Boy could hardly have been a virtuoso. It was that is he gave of himself to Jesus, freely and with an open heart. Friends in Christ, that Little Drummer Boy teaches us our reluctance to give a gift to Jesus is wholly without warrant. We do have something to give him that is sufficient. We do have something to give him that is adequate. We do have something to give him that he wants, that he needs. We do have something to give him that he will appreciate, and the Little Drummer Boy teaches us too just what that is: Jesus simply wants us to give of ourselves to him, freely and with open hearts. In fact this all he wants of us; or perhaps it is better to say that he knows that if we give him this, all the rest that he wants from us will follow. It is time now to do all that is required of us. So let us hazard ourselves to his glory. Let us truly adore him, Christ the Lord! Amen.
By Rebecca Clancy May 18, 2020
“In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was God.” These words are well known to us. Indeed, we have heard them repeated since our childhood. Yes, these words are well known to us, but their meaning may not be. Some words we hear repeated so often, we never even think to question what they may mean. “In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was God.” What then do these words mean? One thing that may provide at least a clue as to their meaning is that the words “In the beginning” start not only the gospel of John, they start the book of Genesis also. Surely the gospel of John then is hearkening us back to the book of Genesis to the word through which God spoke creation into being. This clue as to their meaning , however, only compounds the difficulty. The matter remains: What is this word that was with God and was God ? What is this word through which God created the cosmos? This surely is, now that we begin to unpack the meaning of these words, a theological riddle. But quite frankly, who cares? Who cares about theological riddles? We all have problems, not problems that are abstract like this one, but problems that are real -- Problems that we cannot solve. Problems that hold us back. Problems that are destroying us. Be whatever they may – problems that result from dysfunctional families or relationships, financial problems, problems that stem from diseases that have attacked us or our loved ones, problems around addictions, problems that arise from some wrong we’ve done and can’t undo, problems with some fault in our character that we can’t resolve, problems issuing from some injustice or violation we’ve suffered. That’s one thing that we all here have in common. We all have problems, and so who cares about theological riddles? We may, however, find it useful to recall that we are not the first generation of people to have problems. Every generation of people has had problems. Nostalgia is nothing more than a romantic sentiment. There has never been a time in all of history that that people have been free of problems. Problems, then, it is safe to conclude, are a permanent and perennial fixture of human existence. Our biblical forbears certainly give witness to this. Consider any of them. Consider Saul for instance. There was some lacking in his personality. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly what it was -- some incapacity for leadership, some incapacity to command respect, some incapacity for integrity. It doesn’t matter exactly what it was, only that it existed. Saul himself never had any insight into it, but others did. Those closest to him noticed it first and began to withdraw their allegiance to him. Saul may not have had any insight into the lacking in his personality, but he sensed these defections very keenly. He became defensive and untrusting, and then, downright paranoid and suspicious. A vicious cycle took hold – the more he descended, the more those around him withdrew, the more he descended, the more those around him withdrew, until he was eventually driven insane. In a glimpse of lucidity, he realized the only end to it all was death, and so he took his life. Or consider Saul’s successor David. David was man of a different stripe. As the Bible states it, he was a man after God’s own heart. And what a man he was. He singlehandedly forged the nation of Israel, made it into the greatest nation it has ever been and was the greatest king ever to sit on its throne. Jerusalem, which he founded, was rightly called, “The City of David.” But even David grew corrupt. He was so exceptional that he came to believe that the rules of life that apply to everyone else didn’t apply to him. He impregnated the wife of one of his most valiant soldiers then arranged for his murder to conceal his misdeed. That was a stain that could never be removed, and David lived out the rest of his years far east of Eden. Or what about the apostle Peter, who posited himself Jesus’ right hand man? But on the strength of what? On the strength of swagger, nothing more; swagger that may have worked well for him on the fishing boats or in the marketplace, but that showed itself as mere swagger when the going got rough. Peter then revealed himself a coward and a weakling; worse, a betrayer. The one who posited himself Jesus’ right-hand man then proved he was no better than Jesus’ worst enemy. Yes, our biblical forbears certainly had problems. To a man and to a woman, they all did. The Bible is about people just like us, people with problems -- real problems, problems that held them back, problems they couldn’t solve, problems that destroyed them. The Bible in fact was written to address itself to the problems of the human existence, and so its theological riddles must be solved. They are nothing less than the Bible’s answer to our problems. “In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was God.” The gospel of John is indeed hearkening us back to the book of Genesis and recalling to us that in the beginning God spoke a word of life and creation came into being -- creation in all its manifest and mysterious abundance, creation in all of its light and all of its darkness, and creation over which we have been given dominion. But as much as it was, creation was not enough. Creation was not the fullness of God’s word of life. In order for us to know a higher meaning, a higher purpose, a higher hope, a higher destiny; in order for us not to succumb to the struggles that would be inevitable in any created order, there had to be more. And so, as the prologue to the gospel of John continues, God spoke a second word of life, a word of life unto life, as it were. This second word of life took flesh and lived among us in the man Jesus Christ. This word of life transfused the created order with the divine order, so that we would indeed know a higher meaning, a higher purpose, a higher hope, a higher destiny; and so that we that we would not succumb to our struggles, because those struggles would be transfigured, as were his, by divine love . This theological conundrum then is not really so much of a conundrum at all. It is simply the Bible’s good news to us that though we have problems God’s word to us is a word of life; not just created life, but his life, here, now, real, present -- as was the coming of his son into our world. Amen.
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