The Journey

As many of you know, I sermon/homily binge on Sundays. I stream the worship services from Washington National Cathedral, Riverside Church in NYC, Duke Chapel, and finally Myers Park UMC in Charlotte. These are all very well designed times of worship, each giving a little different message, but all very uplifting, challenging, and filled with grace.

Today being Christmas Eve, with all the candlelight services offered, it gives me a little more opportunity to share in this experience. We participated in worship at Myers Park UMC at 11:00am, 6:00pm and 8:00pm; Washington National at 11:00am; Duke Chapel at 11:00am; and St. Peter’s in Rome at 11;30pm. Yes, I have had a day of preaching. But it has all been good.

Pope Francis spoke about the refugee nature of the Holy family being forced to go to a place where they were not wanted… not welcomed… a place where there was no space for them. He called on the world to make room for the refugees of the world. The narrator of the service mentioned that every 20 minutes of every day a family leaves their land for a new place seeking the hope of a new life or a family is forced to leave their land out of fear for their lives.

I was particularly struck with James Howell’s words this morning when he said: “Love risks being born.” It was a tremendous risk for God to risk being born as a helpless human infant and grow up in a world where he was unwanted but very needed. All day, as Shirley and I were getting prepared for tomorrow’s Christmas dinner and family, I kept having these flashes of James’ words: “Love risks being born.” Look what God risked to be born in us. And what are we risking to have His love being born in us and through us born in another? 

We have had a very strange and disturbing year. Many of us have not known how to deal with or what to say about it. I know I have lost some friends over politics because of me expressing my feelings. Even my family thinks I am going to hell in a hand-basket. I must say that I have not allowed my better self  to shine or be born each day in me… no that old lower self has had most of the control. I am sorry that I spoke as I did… I surely could have said what I felt needed to be said in a much better way… a more sensitive way.

I still am pondering this risky love being born in me. Not sure what it will look like or how it will play out in an old man’s living. But I hope it will look more loving, more caring, more understanding, more open. Don’t expect a door mat for you to wipe your muddy shoes… I will still come to the door. But expect me living on a higher plane where love is being risked.

O little town of Bethlehem
How still we see thee lie
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting Light
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee tonight

O holy Child of Bethlehem
Descend to us, we pray
Cast out our sin and enter in
Be born to us today
We hear the Christmas angels
The great glad tidings tell
O come to us, abide with us
Our Lord Emmanuel

Merry Christmas to all of you. I pray we all may find a way to risk really loving God and each other in the coming year. I am planning to use this as my waking prayer each day, cause I need to be reminded.

Grace and Peace
Steve

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There is a beautiful children’s picture book entitled, December by Eve Bunting and David Diaz. I have used it in conjunction with the Isaiah 64:1, “O, that you would tear open the heavens and come down….” The synopsis is below. 

A young boy and his mother who are homeless are spending Christmas Eve in a their cardboard box shelter. They have made it as cozy as possible with the picture of an angel with a rose in her hair from an old calendar hanging on one wall. He decided she is named December because that is the word under the picture. They have a little scrap of an evergreen branch as a tree with a paper star and an old tin soldier as ornaments. There is also a paper plate with two Christmas cookies, one red and one green. The boy has recycled bottles and cans for weeks to earn money for the cookies. They go to sleep warm and snug under the great coat of the boy’s deceased father.

At midnight they are awakened by a knock on their cardboard door. An old woman, cold and frightened, is asking for help. They invite her in and warm her up. She is so grateful that she takes a faded fabric rose off her hat to add to the Christmas ornaments on the little tree. After a bit of wrestling with his conscience the boy offers her the red Christmas cookie because he thinks she is hungry. They cover her with the father’s coat and all three go back to sleep. Early Christmas morning just before dawn the boy awakens to discover the woman is gone. He is drawn outside of their box and there in the morning fog he sees his Christmas angel, December,….the one on the calendar sheet hanging in the box. She is singing softly and she smiles at him. As she fades into the fog he notices that the rose in her hair is just like the rose that is now hanging on the tree.

A year later the boy and his mom celebrate Christmas in their new warm apartment. The mom now has work and the boy is in school. They put out the angel picture and they have a bit bigger tree with the star and the soldier and the rose. There are two cookies under the tree. And even two small presents. They are blessed. Life is very good and the boy gives thanks as he remembers the angel named December.  

Grace and Peace
Steve

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Make sure that nobody pays back wrong for wrong, but always try to be kind to each other and to everyone else.
1 Thessalonians 5:15

Recently Shirley and I went to a local restaurant for lunch and had our usual waitress; Anna, usual food; soup and a grilled cheese sandwich, and a most unusual check out. The bank declined my debit card. The clerk even punched in the numbers and still it was declined. So in the spirit of the season we sit at a table and call the bank. They tell us that my card has been compromised by ITunes. Isn’t that just great??? I have downloading classical music for the Christmas season and some joker is stealing my debit card number and charging around $500.00 in three different places in Virginia. I just don’t think that is very much in keeping with the Christmas spirit. The Christmas Spirit is give not steal.

I tried to think of appropriate scripture for this devotion, one that would voice my inner feelings. All I could come up with immediately had to do with destroying my enemies… casting them down into a deep, dark pit. And, you know, for a while I was very well pleased with this scripture and attitude. I even started singing “You’re a foul one, Mr. Grinch!” in that deep voice – with feeling.

Then I was reminded; “You are a preacher!” Oh yeah! Well, I guess that means that I need to, at least, try to handle this a little better. So, perhaps deal out only severe pain instead of the destruction and pit thing? Really what I want to do is to stand at the top of the pit and shine my flashlight down into the eyes… e-d-b-d-eyes… of those who are holding their ill-gotten gain… with my money.

I don’t understand why people do this. I don’t have the capacity to appropriately deal with this but I do know that I must forgive and let it go, and turn it all over to God. God will handle it in a way that brings about God’s solution and not mine.

Dear God, I thank you for reminding me of not seeking revenge but seeking the higher road of turning it all over to your loving care knowing that you will do what is best. Amen.

Grace and Peace
Steve

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“In love he destined us for adoption to sonship through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will….”
Ephesians 1:5

John was born into a family of 12 children. They were very poor. He was the youngest. He never remembered his father eating a meal with the rest of the family. He had to work long hours to feed his family. One day his father ran off with another woman, leaving his mother to care for all 12 children. At age 6, his mother told him through tears that she was going to put him up for adoption along with 3 of his sisters. She told him she had no choice. If she didn’t take this step they would likely starve.

She placed an ad in a newspaper of a nearby town and within 3 days a couple responded. When the day finally came for John to leave, he said it was the worst day of his life. They were at the train station, ready to say their last good-byes. He said, “When the conductor reached down to take me from my mother’s arms I felt something die on the inside of me.

His new family was very loving and kind but it was just not the same. John lived with the constant fear that one day they would give him away too. He grew into adulthood and finally went out on his own. He spent year after year absorbed in his work, trying to bury the deep hurt in his soul.

One day something beautiful happened. In a moment of great discouragement, he visited a church, hoping he would hear a word that would boost his spirits. Little did he know that his life would be changed forever. The preacher talked about how God loves to adopt people into his forever family. At last, the ache in his heart was healed. Jesus told him He would never abandon him, never send him away. After years of turmoil and hate, John felt loved and accepted. He felt the Lord saying to him, “John, I know about that day at the train station. I know how you felt and I’ve been waiting all these years to adopt you into my family.”

There is never a single, horrible memory but what God plans to eclipse it with a better one. Like green grass sprouting to re-color a burned-over field, so God brings along beauty for ashes.

Dear God, adopt me and never let me go.  Amen.

Grace and Peace
Steve

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