Through Stained Glass: Advent Word[s] of the Day-Whirlwind & Wonderfully

Day 14:  whirlwind

God answered Job out of the whirlwind…[Job 38.1]

 To say these last 48 hours have been a whirlwind would be a major understatement.

My Sunday morning began at 4:30am when I woke up wide-awake. I tossed and turned until 5:00am but then finally overcame my bodies desire to get up and did just that.

I made coffee. Sat down at my writing desk. Finished my sermon. Updated the baptism liturgy. And had a moment with the 2 golden dogs.

That was the last bit of peace I experienced that day.

Now, this isn’t to say Sunday was bad. Actually, it was opposite of that. Sunday,

December 14^th was one of the most beautiful days I’ve experienced lately. As mentioned above, our church baptized one of our own, little 3-year-old girl who has the most beautiful smile and an energy to her that is contagious.

I’ll chalk-up my inability to sleep to my excitement about this most joyful occasion in the life of the church!

There is nothing I love more than being able to declare God’s promise to someone in the waters of baptism. There is nothing more life affirming than to look the child in those sweet big eyes and say “You are a beloved child of God. You are beautiful. You are good. God loves you more than you will ever know. We have been here, we are here, and we will always be here. We are making this promise to you, little one. We love you!”

In the name of the Triune God of love, the waters swirled and ran down her head, neck, and shoulders, she was baptized and reminded that God is as close to her as her own breath.

My heart was delighted. The eyes of the congregation were swollen from the tears of joy elicited by the beautiful hymn I was There to Hear Your Borning Cry. There was such good, positive energy pulsating through the pews.

The whirlwind continued as I went from church to Sunday school, from Sunday school to lunch, from lunch to a birthday party. Surrounded by a half dozen Elsa’s and a giant Olaf balloon, I found myself smack dabbed between 12 or so 3,4,5,6, & 7 year olds helping my little niece celebrate her 5^th birthday. I loved hearing their high shrilled screams as they played hide and seek; my nieces smile at each of her Frozen gift brought a smile to my face; and hearing the little boys laugh as they played dodge ball warmed my heart.

But then, that is when the whirlwind of a good day ended with a sad tone.

The birthday party was at a church. Not in town. Not anywhere around here.

As the kids were running and hiding, screaming and playing, I ventured into the sanctuary to gain some ideas. I love visiting other churches to see how they set up sacred space.

Like most churches who are not from the mainline tradition and want to be sensitive to seekers, this space had screens and no crosses, a iMac and no pews, drums, guitars and no organ.

Knowing the Mac computer is where the pastor’s sermon was probably controlled, the slide show and what not, I went to see if I could find a bulletin. Instead of the bulletin I found the pastor’s sermon.

I was hesitant to read it. If for no other reason than I don’t like when others read mine.

I wish I didn’t read it.

In fact, I wish I didn’t snoop at all.

What I found was a sermon using scripture to declare our differences as sin and not to celebrate our diversity as something beautiful.

Instead of some of God’s children being “fearfully and wonderfully” made [day 15’s word] they were portrayed as less than, seen not as a human being but by the prejudices ascribed to them.

My heart was broken.

I wanted to cry.

How could a place be so hurtful, so unwelcoming, so mean—especially a week after a 12-year-old boy took his life because of bullying he endured for being on the cheerleading team?

How quickly we forget the Hebrew teaching about caring for the stranger.

How quickly we forget the Hebrew concept of sanctuary is rooted in the tradition of the cities of refuge.

How quickly we have forgotten Jesus’ greatest commandment because of our number driven obsession and mis-interpretation of the great commission.

How quickly we forget God is not the god of hatred and bigotry, but of radical love.

Advent is a time reminding us we are all in need of healing. But it is also a time when we contemplate and celebrate God taking on flesh.

God in the person Jesus speaks to how every human being is a dwelling of God—man or woman or child, Christian or Jewish or Buddhist or Muslim, addict or honor roll student. As Elie Wiesel reminds us, in his article The Refuge, “Any person, by virtue of being a son or daughter is a living sanctuary whom nobody has the right to invade.”

For the real “real reason for the season” to take hold of our communities, we must become a community that practices God’s Welcome and hospitality by boldly proclaiming and celebrating the inherent goodness, that divine spark, all peoples posses.

As people come to our churches on the 24^th, let us remember that God’s hospitality in a world of difference and danger is the source of our life, and it’s not an optional action for us or our churches. After all, as Letty M. Russel notes, “the table[s] we gather around is a symbol of God’s hospitality in welcoming the strangers, persons who are on the margins of our churches and cultures.”

I was reminded over the last 48 hours that in the whirlwind waters of baptism, we are claimed and named by God, and am God’s beloved who is fearfully and wonderfully made…

Day 15:  wonderfully

I am fearfully and wonderfully made… [Psalm 139.14]

Not only was Olaf at the birthday party, but he was front
and center at the baptism as well!

Through Stained Glass: Advent Word of the Day-Don't Be Afraid

Day 13:  Don’t be Afraid

Elijah said to the widow, “Don’t be afraid…” [1 Kings 17.13]

Tomorrow is Gaudete Sunday.

Advent, like Lent, is a penitential season, so the vestments pastors wear and the paraments donning the sanctuary are often purple. But on Gaudete Sunday, having passed the midpoint of Advent, the Church lightens the mood a little, and the priest may wear rose vestments. The change in color provides us with encouragement to continue our preparation for the Christ child.

Tomorrow we will light the pink candle and we will rejoice while celebrating the joy of God’s love.

But tonight, my heart is not full of joy.

It is sad.

One of the first folks I visited as a ‘real pastor’ recently completed her baptism and I just learned about it. 

I remember the first time I met this woman. It was last year when our church went caroling at her nursing home. When we arrived she smiled the biggest smile I’ve ever seen and her eyes were full of joy. As we caroled she clapped her hands and hummed along.

She was so appreciative of our presence. She was so grateful for our songs.

However, the last time I saw her the joy in her eyes was gone. Her sadness was palpable. The smile hidden behind a loneliness no one should ever experience. She, like all people, is deserving of love.

Despite the difficult season she was in, we worshipped together. She held my hand as we said the Lord’s Prayer before we celebrated communion. She took a small piece of the communion bread consecrated at worship hours before. Her thin hand shook as she raised the shot glass of Welch’s to her lips. I steadied it for her as she consumed the blood of Christ. She smacked her lips together, and once more and then I hugged her and told her I’d be back.

That was the last time I was with her.

For many in my congregation she was but a name in the bulletin, someone we should probably pray for. For me, she was a person who affirmed my call and gave me hope. Though I doubt she knew it.

On this the eve before the Sunday when we will rejoice, I can’t shake the solemn feeling of my friend's absence. Her lonely look lingers in my mind. But about the time I get weepy I think about last year and when we met for the first time and I can fight back the tears with a smile as I think about her smile.

Her joy.

Tonight as I sit with joy and sadness, I’m grateful for the wisdom of Henri Nouwen who reminds us that joy isn’t happiness. While happiness is dependent on external conditions, Nouwen writes that joy is something deeper. It is "the experience of knowing that you are unconditionally loved and that nothing -- sickness, failure, emotional distress, oppression, war, or even death -- can take that love away." Indeed, do not fear a thing.

When I light the Joy candle tomorrow, I’ll do so with a smile knowing how loved I was by this friend and trusting she knew just how loved she was.

May we all know there is nothing to fear. We are all beautifully and wonderfully made. God loves us more than we’ll ever know. Our struggles, our pursuits of justice will not go unnoticed. God is with us.

Rejoice, dear friend, for your waiting was not done in vain.

Through Stained Glass: Advent Word of the Day-Wept So Loudly

Day 6:  Wept So Loudly

“I went inside my heart
to see how it was.
Something there makes me hear
the whole world weeping.”
― Rumi

Joseph wept so loudly that the Egyptians heard it. [Genesis 45.3]

There are days when the weight of the world gets to me.

Those days when the winter’s darkness denies what little joy there is in the season.

Some times, nights last longer than they should.

If I’m honest, and I’m about to be, when these times of nights disrupt my sleep, it is easy for me to weep.

Growing up in a time when boys were supposed to grit their teeth and not show any emotion, I’ve always been a sensitive person—acutely aware of those around me.

Some times my sensitivity gets the best of me.

But there is no shame in crying. No weakness in weeping.

Tears are your body’s release valve for stress, sadness, grief, anxiety, and frustration. 

And crying, as many health professionals will tell you, actually crying makes us feel better, even when a problem persists.

Advent is the one season when I am the weepiest. Purposefully waiting with eyes open and ears tuned to the rhythms of the world, my heart is tenderized at the realization of how many ache to be seen, hurt to be heard, and weep just to be loved. I enter into advent expecting to encounter all the emotions many of the characters we meet along the way felt.

Despair. Joy. Sadness. Delight. Worry. Excitement. Uncertainty. Assurance.

I think the only way to really get the word of the day, one must read a little before and after verse 3.

45Then Joseph could no longer control himself before all those who stood by him, and he cried out, ‘Send everyone away from me.’ So no one stayed with him when Joseph made himself known to his brothers.²And he wept so loudly that the Egyptians heard it, and the household of Pharaoh heard it. ³Joseph said to his brothers, ‘I am Joseph. Is my father still alive?’ But his brothers could not answer him, so dismayed were they at his presence.

Reconciliation instead of revenge.

It became so much for Joseph, the hatred from his brothers, their kidnapping of him, and even their failed attempt to murder him, as we all their settling to sell him into slavery, he had no response but to

weep.

And friends, sometimes that is all we can find energy to do.

It is okay to cry.

It is even okay to weep.

After all,

weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning.

***

Often, I imagine my tears rolling off my cheek and into the baptismal pool in which I was claimed. The photo is of the font from our chapel at work. As the waters of baptism heal, so do the tears we shed.