Sermon – Luke 2.1-20, CE, YC, December 24, 2021

Tags

appearance, Christmas, Christmas Eve, church, connection, earth, Good News, heaven, Jesus, Joseph, light, love, Mary, miracle, neighbors, ordinary, Sermon

Church on Christmas Eve is always a funny thing.  For years, I scoured the stores for matching dresses for our girls.  I served in churches where people would sport tuxedos and fur coats for the night’s services.  Family pictures were regularly taken by the Christmas tree – either at home or at church.  Quite frankly, I was a little relieved when I became a priest and never had to worry about a new outfit because no one would see the outfit under my vestments anyway.  And then the pandemic hit.  Last year, we had to watch Christmas from home – maybe in matching pajamas, but more likely just in a pair of jeans or sweats.  A year later, we are all out of the habit of dressing for public, and, if you are here at Hickory Neck, you know jeans are just as acceptable as that fancy dress or jacket in the back of your closet or that some of you are fabulously sporting tonight. 

I am not really sure where the notion of dressing up for Christmas came from, except maybe an older tradition of always dressing up for church.  But nothing about our Christmas story screams high fashion.  Mary and Joseph are traveling to Bethlehem under order of the oppressive government and are likely in traveling clothes, dirty and weary from the road.  Mary also gives birth this night, so her body is likely sweaty and soiled.  Meanwhile, her child is not in a matching layette, but in bands of cloth.  Both are likely an exhausted mess.  And the shepherds who later come visit are likely not to fresh-smelling themselves, probably in their most utilitarian clothing for tending to sheep in the dark cold of night.

And yet, in these most basic settings, the privilege of the miraculous happens.  Mary births not just an ordinary baby, but the Christ Child – the Messiah – as Isaiah says, the “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”  Meanwhile, not only does an angel appear in the blinding glory of God, but also a whole multitude of the heavenly host shows up.  All to ordinary people, dressed in ordinary garb, going about doing ordinary things.  But as scholar Sarah Henrich says, “Heaven and earth meet in obscure places, not in the halls of power.”[i] 

This week I read about such a meeting of the heavenly and earthly in the Washington Post.  In November 2020, Kim Morton was sitting at home with her daughter watching a movie in Baltimore County, Maryland, when her neighbor sent her text telling her to look outside.  Her neighbor, Matt Riggs, had hung a string of Christmas lights all the way across the street from his house to hers, as he explained, to brighten Kim’s world and to show her that they were always connected, despite the isolation the pandemic had created.  Kim had been struggling with anxiety and depression, had lost a loved one, had a lot of work stress, and had started experiencing panic attacks.  Matt knew her pain himself, and so decided they both needed a reminder that they are not alone in their pain. 

But here’s the funny thing about Matt and Kim’s story.  The neighbors saw what Matt did, and they wanted in too.  Neighbors across the street from one another started talking and said, “Let’s do it too!”  Slowly, but surely, neighbors started reaching out to one another with expressions of connection, love, and quite literally, light.  By the time Christmas arrived, 75% of the neighbors had joined in with strings of light crossing the entire drive.  And this year, in November 2021, the whole neighborhood held a house-to-house light hanging party.  Kim, the initial recipient of the lights said, “It made me look up, literally and figuratively, above all the things that were dragging me down.  It was light, pushing back the darkness.”[ii]

Matt and Kim’s story did not happen in Jerusalem, Bethlehem, or even New York City.  Their story happened in a little neighborhood, outside of Baltimore, that no one had heard of until the Washington Post came along.  And although Matt and Kim never mention Jesus, the truth is that heaven and earth met in an obscure place, shining connection, love, and light.  This Christmas, the ordinary, earthy setting of Bethlehem and the shepherd fields are reminders – reminders that we can have all the fancy bow ties and heels we want, but more often, we will see and experience the sacred in the ordinary moments where Jesus shows up and offers us love.  The birth of the Christ Child tonight is a reminder that we, like ordinary shepherds can be used to be sharers of the Good News in tiny, ordinary ways – ways that show Christ’s love and light, and in ways that help us experience sacred connection with our neighbors.  Amen.

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[i] Sarah Henrich, “Commentary on Luke 2:1-14 [15-20],” December 24, 2021, as found at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/christmas-eve-nativity-of-our-lord/commentary-on-luke-21-14-15-20-20 on December 22, 2021. 

[ii] Sydney Page, “A man strung Christmas lights from his home to his neighbor’s to support her. The whole community followed,” Washington Post, December 21, 2021.

On Cups of Sugar and Other Gifts…

Tags

death, emotion, gift, God, neighbors, pandemic, share, struggle, suffering, sugar, together

Photo credit: https://www.bhg.com/recipes/how-to/bake/how-to-measure-sugar/

One of the things I love about our public library is the way they display children’s books to catch your attention.  We have our favorite characters and series, but our librarians always pick books you might not find if you were just looking at endless rows of books.  In our last trip, we picked such a book called Addy’s Cup of Sugar.  There was a girl and a panda bear on the cover, so I was sure it would be a winner with my young daughter.  It also said it was based on a Buddhist story of healing, which sounded intriguing.

Little did I know how powerful this children’s book would be.  For those of you who have not read it (spoiler alert!), the book is about a girl whose cat dies.  She talks to her friend, the panda bear, about bringing the cat back to life.  The bear says the only way to accomplish that is for her to help him with the supplies he will need – specifically a cup of sugar from a neighbor; but the cup of sugar must come from a home where no one has experienced death.  So off Addy goes, and slowly we learn through her visits and beautiful conversations with neighbors that not one single house in her neighborhood has been unaffected by death.  You can imagine the conversation Addy and the bear have upon her return at the close of the day.

After recovering from being sideswiped by the emotional power of the book, I began to reflect on my work as a priest.  As part of my vocation, I am entrusted with fullness of people’s stories – grief they might not confess to their loved ones, weariness they may not show in their tough facades, anger at God they are afraid to claim aloud for fear of judgment.  Every once in a while, one of those poignant moments of sharing knocks the breath out of me and I am at a loss for words – because words cannot heal some hurts. 

Although I experience the depth of humanity more regularly than some, we all have the opportunity to do the same with our family, friends, and neighbors.  As the duration of this pandemic lengthens, I have been wondering if we all might need to start taking our own cups for sugar around the neighborhood (masked and socially distanced, of course), offering the opportunity for others to share their hurts, their sorrows, and perhaps their own struggles to see God.  Once we begin to see the wideness of the human condition, we also see how we are not alone.  Our cups of sugar then become not just gifts for ourselves, but for others too.

On Jesus, Love, Me, and You…

Tags

Christ, intergenerational, Jesus, Jesus Loves Me, love, meaning, ministry, neighbors, profound, relationship, Savior, simple, song, together, walk

Photo credit:  https://mandjsquared.com/index.php/product/jesus-loves-me-this-i-know/

After welcoming The Kensington School, an independent child development center, on to the Hickory Neck property, the two communities have sought ways to enter into mutual relationship.  One of those efforts has been offering a voluntary Godly Play class for students of the school.  We began the class in the fall, and have had over 18 children registered for the class.  We recently changed the day of the week the class is offered, and so yesterday, I was finally able to join the class.  The children were full of life and wonder, and I loved to watch them engage in the story.  But probably one of my favorite parts was singing Jesus Loves Me with the children.  They clearly knew the words, and it was fun to sing such a familiar childhood song – so simple and, especially in these days, so profound.

My day carried on like any other adventurous day in ministry, and that afternoon, I celebrated Eucharist at a local retirement home.  We usually sing a few songs, and the chaplain always reminds me that familiar songs are important, as they bring up many fond memories for the residents.  So, without thinking, I chose two, and midway through the final song, I realized I had subconsciously chosen the very song I had sung early that morning – Jesus Loves Me.  The same feelings emerged, especially as many of the retirees in that space are in bodies that no longer do all the things they used to do.  But they can sing about the love of a Savior – that they, even in their weakened states, are loved.

I have been thinking about a couple of things since then.  Hickory Neck has been articulating its mission in Upper James City County, and one of the tenets of our mission is to engage in intergenerational ministry.  Knowing our unique setting – a community comprised predominantly of young families and a large retirement community – our parish seeks to minister to both, and in fact, we believe our ministry will be richer as both young and old walk together in Christ.  Yesterday’s convergence of three and four year-olds singing the same words as ninety-three and ninety-four year-olds made me hopeful about the potential of Hickory Neck’s ministry.

But yesterday’s experience also made me think about all of us in the middle – those of us who are twenty-three and twenty-four to sixty-three and sixty-four; those of us who are busily going about life, trying to do our part to make the world a better place, and trying to find meaning and joy in this world.  For those of us in the middle, I wonder if we might hear the words of a song that seems almost childishly simple as instead something profoundly important about ourselves and our neighbors.  Yes, Jesus loves me.  But, Jesus also loves you.  And, from what I know about Jesus, he especially loves those whom we would like to deem “other,” or as unworthy of God’s love.  Jesus loves them too.  Perhaps we in the middle can take a cue from those at the beginning and those near the end and remember the simple, profound words that can hold us together, and help us love better.

On Glimpses of Goodness…

Tags

belonging, care, community, fall, festival, glimpse, glory, God, goodness, home, neighbors, witness

Photo credit:  https://bscomt.org/donate/community-fall-festival/

This weekend our parish is holding its Annual Fall Festival.  I look forward to the event every year because it showcases all the wonderful things about our parish.  All the proceeds of the Festival are used to support outreach ministries in our community.  The Festival is a great way for us to share our property with the community – from time for fellowship and yummy food, to fun activities for children and families, to vendors being able to display their wares, to being able to get an in-depth tour of our historic chapel.  Our “Attic Treasures” section is a wonderful example of being good stewards of creation – allowing one person’s underused items to find new life with someone else (plus all the unpurchased goods get donated to a local ministry).  Our “Amazin’ Grazin’” section allows neighbors to have access to home-baked goods – a privilege that is sometimes lost in this fast-paced, pre-packaged world of consumption.  Even our silent auction is a wonderful example of local businesses and individuals donating their services to benefit the great community.  And that does not even touch the volunteer labor that goes into this one day – both before, during, and after.

If you are paying attention on Saturday, you will learn that Hickory Neck is a community that cares.  We care about our neighbors in need.  We care about children and families, and creating safe, fun places for them.  We care about partnerships and collaboration in the greater Williamsburg area.  We care about the environment, and using our creativity to enrich the earth.  We care about creating a space where a sense of home can be found.  We care about using our time, talent, and treasure to the glory of God.  We care about you.

So, yes, I will be out and about enjoying a festivities of our Fall Festival.  But more than that, I will be thrilled to show you a glimpse into the awesome community of Hickory Neck.  Come join us as we celebrate belonging, believing, and becoming.  The treasure you leave with will be more than just what you purchase; it will be a sense that, for a moment, you are a part of Hickory Neck too.  And if you like how that feels, then come join us again on any given Sunday.  I promise you’ll see more of the same!

The Revolution of Christmas…

Tags

Christians, Christmas, gifts, Jesus, justice, Magnificat, Mary, neighbors, oppression, poor, poverty, redemption, revolution

Last week our church got a call about whether we would be willing to “adopt” some families for Christmas.  The call came in late, was from an area we do not normally serve, and we had already run and completed a successful local “Angel Tree” program.   But after much discussion, we decided to offer the invitation and see what transpired.

Two surprising things happened out of that effort.  One, I was blown away by the money that came in from parishioners.  Although most were too tapped to do the shopping, they were willing to open their wallets.  Two, once I got the list, my heart melted.  There were basic items, like clothing and shoes.  But the “wish list” items got me.  There were the cute items – like racecars, baby dolls, musical toys, and card games.  Those gifts made me think of the innocence of Christmas gifts when we are young.  Then there were the bigger dreamers, who longed for electronic gifts.  Though I knew we could not afford them, I remembered stories I had read of homeless persons owning smart phones – in order to “fit in” with everyone else, and to have one form of connection to the world when all other ties had been cut.  There was a request by a teenager whose only wish was a gift card to a shop that caters to teens.  I suddenly remembered how hard it is to be a teenager, desperately wanting to blend in with your peers, and how hard that would be when parents can barely afford food or rent.  And then there was the teenage boy whose only wish was socks and stocking stuffers.  His innocent request at such a mature age broke my heart.  No greed, just some simple pleasures and a basic need.

Photo credit:  https://walktheway.wordpress.com/2013/12/21/solidarity-mary-with-elizabeth/

When a pregnant Mary visits with her pregnant cousin Elizabeth, Mary breaks into a song of justice for the poor (Luke 1.46-55).  When Elizabeth confirms everything the Angel Gabriel had declared about Mary’s baby, Mary sees the beginning of redemption for oppressed peoples everywhere.  And she does not just whisper the song to Elizabeth, but shouts it loudly among her people.  Christians today still sing her Magnificat, in hundreds of settings and languages, every day, around the world.  Though most of us are excited about gifts, parties, and the familiar smells and tastes at Christmas, as Christians, we are also excited for the revolution that Christmas signifies – the dawn of justice for the poor and oppressed.  A baby born into poverty who will be the champion of the poor.

Our gifts to our neighbors in need at Christmas are just one small way that we remember the revolution of Christ’s birth.  Of course, Christmas is just the beginning.  Our witness for Christ is not just about how Christ has redeemed us, but how Christ is using us as agents for change, as advocates for the poor and downtrodden, as servants who “lift up the lowly, and fill the hungry with good things.”  Our God of abundance invites us to be a people of abundance.  I look forward to hearing how you are celebrating the revolution of Christmas this year!

On Festivals and Jesus…

Tags

Fall Festival, festival, fun, hear, Jesus, mission, need, neighbors, outreach, see, speak, witness

Photo credit:  www.emetrotimes.com/come-celebrate-36th-annual-olde-town-conyers-fall-festival

This week, Hickory Neck is hosting its 16^th Annual Fall Festival.  Not having seen a Fall Festival at Hickory Neck myself, I cannot give you an endorsement from experience.  But here’s what I can tell you.  The Fall Festival highlights all that is good about Hickory Neck.  Parishioners old and young, newcomers and old-timers, those working and those retired have all chipped in to prepare for the event together.  People volunteered readily, volunteers charged forward with their assigned tasks, leaders recruited with ease, and parishioners have been baking and purging their “attic treasures.”  Church members and friends have been sharing the word with their neighbors, and the grounds are slowly transforming as we prepare for the big event.

Even more impressive to me is that all the proceeds of the Festival are earmarked for Mission and Outreach.  All the hard work going into this event is all for the benefit of our neighbors in need.  The passion poured into this event is as strong as the passion for the ministries we serve.  Just last week, I visited one of our beneficiaries, Avalon Center.  Avalon is an agency working to end domestic and sexual violence by breaking the cycle of abuse through prevention, education, shelter, and support services in the Williamsburg area.  Visiting Avalon and learning about their clients made me remember how easy it is to go about life when your life is not touched by violence, poverty, and suffering.  We could easily close our eyes, ears, and mouths and stay willfully ignorant about our neighbors in need.

But that is not the way of Jesus.   Jesus could always see and hear.  Jesus always spoke for the oppressed.  As we have journeyed through Luke’s gospel this year, we have heard over and over how Jesus sees us – even when we don’t speak.  That is what we are trying to do when we engage in mission and outreach – we are engaging in seeing, hearing, and speaking – in acting on behalf of our neighbor.

So yes, we are going to eat awesome barbeque and Brunswick stew.  We are going to ride on hayrides, bid on auction items, and shop through other’s treasures.  We will laugh, play, and have fun.  But what is tremendously inspiring to me is that all this hard work, all this nourishing fellowship, and all this use of our resources is rooted in walking the way of Christ.  Our work leading up to Saturday, and our work on the day of the festival is all our way of saying we commit ourselves to seeing, hearing, and speaking.  I hope you will join us!