In December of 2009 Steve was asked to preach in Mobile. He hesitated at first but eventually decided to honor the request with a yes. I had planned to wait to post it until later this yaer, but for some reason, as I read it again, I wanted all of you to be reading it parallel with me. So, here it is.
First Sermon in Three Years
Preached at Central Presbyterian, Mobile (December 27th)
The Consolation Does Come
Luke 2:25-38
I have two Christmas stories rolling around in my mind this year. The first is the Christmas Vacation movie. It’s a goof ball comedy where a man has huge plans for the perfect Christmas and where everything goes horribly wrong. Near the end, when the tree has burned, the turkey failed, the cat has died, and the police show up and he is standing in the ruin of his holiday dream, somehow, he finds some version of the true meaning of Christmas (family?). Still, in the last five minutes, things come together and everything works- the Christmas lights come on and he gets a huge Christmas bonus to buy his family a swimming pool. This is such an American story! Things are a little hard, but in the end, you get a little insight into what matters AND you get a pool.
I came across the second story while looking for some Christmas books for a Spanish class I teach to children. A little Hispanic boy is dreaming about a red ball for Christmas. He is part of a very poor migrant family that has just had to move to find work. He wanted the ball last year and didn’t get it. So this year he has renewed his wish. He has watched his very kind parents struggle to make it. Christmas morning comes, and he opens his gift: a little bag of candy. He is so disappointed. But then he looks up and sees the tears on his mother’s face. He walks over and hands her and his father a piece of candy and they all embrace, and there is a deep sense of joy and gratitude hovering around. So…I turn the page and it says “El Fin.” “The End”. What? No red ball. This is not an American Christmas story.
Somehow, the second story, where a little boy and his parents taste some bitterness, but also real joy…somehow, that story seems a little truer than the “have your cake and eat it too” version of Christmas.
I’m all for Santa. We’ve talked about having a big nativity scene on the roof next year with the three wisemen and Santa all coming to worship the Newborn King. In fact, I not only believe in Santa, I think that it’s worth trying to give children what they want for Christmas no matter how bad they’ve been.
But the story of the little boy is more like this story. The coming of Jesus story.
Read vss. 25,36-37
Do you know this phrase that appears so often in the Old Testament, especially in the Psalms? “How long?” “How long, Oh Lord?” The story of God’s people has really been a story of one long, dark night, moving from the beginning of the Bible to the Gospels. How long will this go on? God has promised to come. But when? The season of Advent, which is over now, is all about this. Waiting in the night. (This is a very big lesson for Christians…learning to wait.)
It seems like the two people in the story (Simeon and Anna) know something about the grief of long waiting.
I don’t see much biography on Simeon. He is one of those people in the Bible who just seems to appear out of nowhere. It’s apparent that he is an old man. And, from his words it kind of sounds like he’s ready to go. But God talks to Simeon (v.26), and has told him that he has to hang on a little longer.
It says outright that Anna is very old. Very old, and very alone, sixty or so years, as a widow, praying and fasting in the temple.
I could be reading this wrong. These two could have very active social lives and lots of money, and they do a little religion on the side. And maybe God makes them wait so long because they are particularly stubborn. But I doubt it.
My opinion is that these two stand in the temple as representatives of the marginalized, those who are pushed off to the side, and who are desperately waiting for God to come (v. 29 “as you promised”, v.38 “all who were looking forward to redemption.”)
I’ve read something about ships at sea. They say (and I don’t know this from experience because I am famous for getting seasick- I read a lot of novels about ships) that at night, if you come from below where there is a little light, that as you step on the deck it is so pitch black, that you get disoriented. (You know, like stepping from a lighted room into the dark.) And that the best way to get your bearings is NOT to look ahead, but to the side, out of the corner of your eye.
Straight ahead in the bible you have the temple, and priests and kings and emporers. But out of the corner of your eye you have a baby in a manger, and shepherds, and you have Simeon and Anna.
A newly discovered author (CPE), tells of going to church with her grandmother who would point at the building and ask, “what is that?” And they would answer “our church.” And she would say, “Oh, that’s not the church. The church is under that church.”
“This has stayed with me all my life. When people ask, “How can you still be a Catholic (or in our case Presbyterian or Episcopalian)?” I think about the Church beneath the church, and Who lives there, that Heart of Christ that beats and throbs in the underground Church, regardless of the mayhem above it. You can hear that Heart if you lie on the earth. You can hear it at night in your dreams, in prayer, in song, in art… it throbs with endless and immaculate Love. I can feel it in “the Church beneath the church,” though I often cannot feel it in the church above ground. The underground Church is the place I return to, over and over again. Health of the Soul. True Refuge of Spirit.”
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
Doesn’t it seem like most the stories in the Bible, where God shows up happen over on the side where things are tough? Think about Mary, the “pregnant out-of-wedlock teen” in a culture that doesn’t think much of women. For Simeon and Anna the waiting is hard. Living on the margin is hard. And even the words (God’s words) are hard, “a sword will pierce your own soul too”.
My dear friend runs a school, and was playing the guitar and singing Christmas songs with a small group of little boys. She had played “In the Bleak Midwinter”, and one of the boys was trying to remember another song which had come to mind- another minor key hymn. Melanie suggested one, and he said, “No. It was darker than that.” She kept naming hymns, and he kept saying “darker!”. Darker.
This is where and how God’s people often wait. In a long, dark night that seems to go on and on. And this very familiar song is on their lips, “How long?” “How long?” “How long?”
But…
Here’s what I love about the Christian year. You have seasons like Advent. Seasons that tell you to wait, and that make you remember all the things we just talked about. But it’s over. There really is such a thing as Advent, and such a thing as Lent. But there is also such a thing as Christmas. And there is such a thing as Easter.
Verses 29-32
This is what the Bible says: Jesus does come. The long awaited, the long promised Jesus does come. He will not forget us. He will not forsake us. He will not leave us behind. Jesus comes and finds ALL his sheep. Every last one of them, especially the lost ones.
For me, 2006, 2007 and 2008 were bad years. I don’t even want to talk about it. But it’s funny, and I don’t know if this makes sense or not, but it’s like I lost everything, but found what I was looking for.
I lost 300 friends, but I found 5 really good ones.
I lost my security, but I also lost my fear.
I have never been so lost. And I have never been so loved. Funny.
Look, I’m no Simeon or Anna. I can’t say with any real confidence that the Holy Spirit is talking to me. In fact, I really have no business standing up here (long story). But as one guy who is standing off to side to another, I can say this. I am beginning to believe in the consolation of Israel.
The church, especially the underground church, has a Simeon and Anna sort of job to do. I’ve always seen in Catholic churches this practice of lighting candles off to the side for people. I used to think it was odd, and now I think it is beautiful. We’ve just started doing this. We have all these friends who are struggling and hurting. And we’ve started to light a candle for them. Just to say “we remember you and you are not alone”. We are all waiting together here in the dark night.
Here’s another idea from Clarissa Pinkola Estes:
One of the most calming and powerful actions you can do to intervene in a stormy world is to stand up and show your soul. Struggling souls catch light from other souls who are fully lit and willing to show it.
Light your own candle, just to say “We’re waiting all together and Jesus will come for us”.
The Consolation Does Come
Luke 2:25-38
I have two Christmas stories rolling around in my mind this year. The first is the Christmas Vacation movie. It’s a goof ball comedy where a man has huge plans for the perfect Christmas and where everything goes horribly wrong. Near the end, when the tree has burned, the turkey failed, the cat has died, and the police show up and he is standing in the ruin of his holiday dream, somehow, he finds some version of the true meaning of Christmas (family?). Still, in the last five minutes, things come together and everything works- the Christmas lights come on and he gets a huge Christmas bonus to buy his family a swimming pool. This is such an American story! Things are a little hard, but in the end, you get a little insight into what matters AND you get a pool.
I came across the second story while looking for some Christmas books for a Spanish class I teach to children. A little Hispanic boy is dreaming about a red ball for Christmas. He is part of a very poor migrant family that has just had to move to find work. He wanted the ball last year and didn’t get it. So this year he has renewed his wish. He has watched his very kind parents struggle to make it. Christmas morning comes, and he opens his gift: a little bag of candy. He is so disappointed. But then he looks up and sees the tears on his mother’s face. He walks over and hands her and his father a piece of candy and they all embrace, and there is a deep sense of joy and gratitude hovering around. So…I turn the page and it says “El Fin.” “The End”. What? No red ball. This is not an American Christmas story.
Somehow, the second story, where a little boy and his parents taste some bitterness, but also real joy…somehow, that story seems a little truer than the “have your cake and eat it too” version of Christmas.
I’m all for Santa. We’ve talked about having a big nativity scene on the roof next year with the three wisemen and Santa all coming to worship the Newborn King. In fact, I not only believe in Santa, I think that it’s worth trying to give children what they want for Christmas no matter how bad they’ve been.
But the story of the little boy is more like this story. The coming of Jesus story.
Read vss. 25,36-37
Do you know this phrase that appears so often in the Old Testament, especially in the Psalms? “How long?” “How long, Oh Lord?” The story of God’s people has really been a story of one long, dark night, moving from the beginning of the Bible to the Gospels. How long will this go on? God has promised to come. But when? The season of Advent, which is over now, is all about this. Waiting in the night. (This is a very big lesson for Christians…learning to wait.)
It seems like the two people in the story (Simeon and Anna) know something about the grief of long waiting.
I don’t see much biography on Simeon. He is one of those people in the Bible who just seems to appear out of nowhere. It’s apparent that he is an old man. And, from his words it kind of sounds like he’s ready to go. But God talks to Simeon (v.26), and has told him that he has to hang on a little longer.
It says outright that Anna is very old. Very old, and very alone, sixty or so years, as a widow, praying and fasting in the temple.
I could be reading this wrong. These two could have very active social lives and lots of money, and they do a little religion on the side. And maybe God makes them wait so long because they are particularly stubborn. But I doubt it.
My opinion is that these two stand in the temple as representatives of the marginalized, those who are pushed off to the side, and who are desperately waiting for God to come (v. 29 “as you promised”, v.38 “all who were looking forward to redemption.”)
I’ve read something about ships at sea. They say (and I don’t know this from experience because I am famous for getting seasick- I read a lot of novels about ships) that at night, if you come from below where there is a little light, that as you step on the deck it is so pitch black, that you get disoriented. (You know, like stepping from a lighted room into the dark.) And that the best way to get your bearings is NOT to look ahead, but to the side, out of the corner of your eye.
Straight ahead in the bible you have the temple, and priests and kings and emporers. But out of the corner of your eye you have a baby in a manger, and shepherds, and you have Simeon and Anna.
A newly discovered author (CPE), tells of going to church with her grandmother who would point at the building and ask, “what is that?” And they would answer “our church.” And she would say, “Oh, that’s not the church. The church is under that church.”
“This has stayed with me all my life. When people ask, “How can you still be a Catholic (or in our case Presbyterian or Episcopalian)?” I think about the Church beneath the church, and Who lives there, that Heart of Christ that beats and throbs in the underground Church, regardless of the mayhem above it. You can hear that Heart if you lie on the earth. You can hear it at night in your dreams, in prayer, in song, in art… it throbs with endless and immaculate Love. I can feel it in “the Church beneath the church,” though I often cannot feel it in the church above ground. The underground Church is the place I return to, over and over again. Health of the Soul. True Refuge of Spirit.”
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
Doesn’t it seem like most the stories in the Bible, where God shows up happen over on the side where things are tough? Think about Mary, the “pregnant out-of-wedlock teen” in a culture that doesn’t think much of women. For Simeon and Anna the waiting is hard. Living on the margin is hard. And even the words (God’s words) are hard, “a sword will pierce your own soul too”.
My dear friend runs a school, and was playing the guitar and singing Christmas songs with a small group of little boys. She had played “In the Bleak Midwinter”, and one of the boys was trying to remember another song which had come to mind- another minor key hymn. Melanie suggested one, and he said, “No. It was darker than that.” She kept naming hymns, and he kept saying “darker!”. Darker.
This is where and how God’s people often wait. In a long, dark night that seems to go on and on. And this very familiar song is on their lips, “How long?” “How long?” “How long?”
But…
Here’s what I love about the Christian year. You have seasons like Advent. Seasons that tell you to wait, and that make you remember all the things we just talked about. But it’s over. There really is such a thing as Advent, and such a thing as Lent. But there is also such a thing as Christmas. And there is such a thing as Easter.
Verses 29-32
This is what the Bible says: Jesus does come. The long awaited, the long promised Jesus does come. He will not forget us. He will not forsake us. He will not leave us behind. Jesus comes and finds ALL his sheep. Every last one of them, especially the lost ones.
For me, 2006, 2007 and 2008 were bad years. I don’t even want to talk about it. But it’s funny, and I don’t know if this makes sense or not, but it’s like I lost everything, but found what I was looking for.
I lost 300 friends, but I found 5 really good ones.
I lost my security, but I also lost my fear.
I have never been so lost. And I have never been so loved. Funny.
Look, I’m no Simeon or Anna. I can’t say with any real confidence that the Holy Spirit is talking to me. In fact, I really have no business standing up here (long story). But as one guy who is standing off to side to another, I can say this. I am beginning to believe in the consolation of Israel.
The church, especially the underground church, has a Simeon and Anna sort of job to do. I’ve always seen in Catholic churches this practice of lighting candles off to the side for people. I used to think it was odd, and now I think it is beautiful. We’ve just started doing this. We have all these friends who are struggling and hurting. And we’ve started to light a candle for them. Just to say “we remember you and you are not alone”. We are all waiting together here in the dark night.
Here’s another idea from Clarissa Pinkola Estes:
One of the most calming and powerful actions you can do to intervene in a stormy world is to stand up and show your soul. Struggling souls catch light from other souls who are fully lit and willing to show it.
Light your own candle, just to say “We’re waiting all together and Jesus will come for us”.