Sunday, December 26, 2021

Christmas Day - 2021

 

Finally! It's Christmas Day, the celebration of the birth of our Lord. We've been planning it for weeks, even months, been crafting like crazy, baking like mad, wrapping and decorating as if not getting everything done would have been a reason for guilt and shame. Sometimes we forget the real reason for the celebration in our urgency to meet impossible expectations. Even on Christmas Day, there can be flashes of anxiety that something has been overlooked, misplaced, left undone, or done improperly. Somehow, Jesus seems to have been packed away early.

Regular routines have been uprooted as viruses and epidemics raise their evil heads again. People who normally attend Christmas Eve Mass or a Christmas Day Eucharist either try to find an online replacement for their neighborhood parish service, or they skip the whole thing, feeling bereft that something so essential and meaningful, not to mention traditional, is missing in their lives – again.

So comes Christmas Day. There are many phone calls and family Zoom sessions to replace the whole family gathered around the tree. After a couple of years of this, we're beginning to accept this as the new normal.

Still, it's Christmas Day, the end of Advent, and the beginning of the 12-day season of Christmas. Mary is resting from her labors. Joseph is probably getting some sleep, and the Baby Jesus lies quietly in a manger. The angels and shepherds have gone, and the magi haven't yet arrived. For the cattle, sheep, goats, chickens, and all, it's just a regular day, like any other, despite the uproar of the previous night.

Sometime today, it would be good to take a few minutes to sit quietly, doing nothing active, putting hamster thoughts behind, and just be in a quiet place, allowing God time to get in a few messages we might not have had time to listen to – or for.  

Take a moment to read the words of Howard Thurman, civil rights leader, educator, and theologian:

When the song of the angels is stilled,
when the star in the sky is gone,
when the kings and princes are home,
when the shepherds are back with their flocks,
the work of Christmas begins:
to find the lost,
to heal the broken,
to feed the hungry,
to release the prisoner,
to rebuild the nations,
to bring peace among the people,
to make music in the heart.*

Let's remember to take the real work of Christmas with us all year. It is a gift that is never too small or large, the wrong color, or a duplicate of something they've already got. It is simply what everybody needs – every day, every minute.

Have a peaceful and blessed Christmas Day.

 

*The Work of Christmas, by Howard Thurman (1985). Found on Education for Ministry (EfM), Facebook, December 22, 2021.


Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café, Saturday, December 25, 2021. 

Sunday, December 19, 2021

Stars and Candles

 Only in the darkness can you see the stars. – Martin Luther King Jr.

Most people dislike this time of year because the daylight doesn’t last as long as it does earlier in the year. Many people who have to report in for work find they’re driving to the office around sunrise and coming home at sunset or nearly dark. People with Seasonal Affective Disorder undergo increased times of depression and stress simply because they require more sunlight than is available due to the earth’s tilt and rotation in relation to the sun. I wonder if people with SAD live in the arctic and how they cope. 

With darkness comes colder temperatures. Even in Arizona’s desert in the summertime, the nighttime temperature may only drop by ten degrees. Still, in winter, it can be thirty degrees or more. There are days (and nights) in the northern climates where it does not go above zero. It’s a time to stay indoors and drink hot cocoa and watch the fireplace flames dance. 

It’s a pity that we seldom go out in winter simply to look up at the skies. Stars shine during the dark hours (and, honestly, during the daytime as well) all year, changing as the earth rotates, so we see different stars and constellations. It’s just the light of the sun that makes them invisible. As soon as the sun starts to sink into the horizon, the stars begin to shine.  When the darkness is complete, we can view the millions of stars and planets that form the canopy of the sky. Dr. King was perfectly right – only in the darkness can we see the stars.

I remember the joy of walking home from church after midnight mass on Christmas Eve. There were still lots of artificial light around, so that I couldn’t see all the stars in that part of the sky, but I could see more than usual. Like tiny diamonds twinkling on a field of dark blue velvet, they made the space between earth and the heavens a much thinner veil than usual. 

Even if I can’t see the stars, I can see colored lights my neighbors have put up shining in the darkness like glowing jewels. Sometimes there are artificial candles in the windows, like miniature lighthouses, shining out to draw in both the stranger and the home folks into the warmth and light. It’s a reminder of the saving force of light, which we celebrate in this season of seemingly endless darkness.

Jesus taught that no one lights a candle and hides it under a bushel basket (Matt: 5:15, Mark 4:21b). What good would it do to do that? Not to mention, it would probably cause a fire and burn the house down. Candles are lit to provide light so that we could work a little later than sunset, or so we could read, talk, tell stories, sing, and strengthen bonds between those who share the light. 

Elizabeth Kübler-Ross said that stained-glass windows are beautiful when the sunlight hits them. The light goes from outside in, splashing the interior with patches of color. At night, though, if the building is lit inside, the stained glass glows visible, warm, and welcoming. That is the kind of light Jesus wants us to present, just as he did through his life, ministry, death, and resurrection. 

His light makes this season what it is, a time of expectation, increasing light from the Advent wreath, marking the weeks until the Christ Candle. Then the Baptismal candle is lit, lightening the darkness and bringing hope, love, and unity.

How can we be the little candles that lighten the world? What is it that would make us shine with the love of Christ, visible to those around us? How can we be light-bearers to a world where darkness seems to prevail, even during daylight? 

As we approach the Fourth Sunday in Advent, let us look to the stars that twinkle in the darkness and the candles that lighten it. Next week we will welcome the Light of Christ into the world, an event we commemorate and look forward to every year. 

Let our lights shine among humankind. What a gift it would be for the Newborn King.

God bless.


Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café, Saturday, December 19, 2021.

Saturday, December 11, 2021

Haggi Speaks, Handel Answers

 In the second year of King Darius, in the seventh month, on the twenty-first day of the month, the word of the Lord came by the prophet Haggai, saying: Speak now to Zerubbabel son of Shealtiel, governor of Judah, and to Joshua son of Jehozadak, the high priest, and to the remnant of the people, and say, Who is left among you that saw this house in its former glory? How does it look to you now? Is it not in your sight as nothing? Yet now take courage, O Zerubbabel, says the Lord; take courage, O Joshua, son of Jehozadak, the high priest; take courage, all you people of the land, says the Lord; work, for I am with you, says the Lord of hosts, according to the promise that I made you when you came out of Egypt. My spirit abides among you; do not fear. For thus says the Lord of hosts: Once again, in a little while, I will shake the heavens and the earth and the sea and the dry land; and I will shake all the nations, so that the treasure of all nations shall come, and I will fill this house with splendour, says the Lord of hosts. The silver is mine, and the gold is mine, says the Lord of hosts. The latter splendour of this house shall be greater than the former, says the Lord of hosts; and in this place I will give prosperity, says the Lord of hosts. – Haggi 2:1-9


It is the eve of the Third Sunday of Advent, often called Gaudete Sunday. It marks the halfway point through Advent, a day of some relief from restrictions otherwise observed, and a pink candle and vestments to mark the day. A similar Sunday in Lent, called Laetare Sunday, is the halfway point between Ash Wednesday and Easter. Both Sundays remind us that it will soon be one of the two most significant celebrations in the church year. Those days mark the birth and resurrection of the Son of Man and the Son of God.

Marking both Advent and Lent are passages of scripture that appear in probably the world's most loved oratorio, Messiah. Everybody knows G. F. Handel wrote the music in 1742. Still, few ever know, much less acknowledge the librettist, an English scholar, landowner, and music lover, Charles Jennens (1700-1773). He had written libretti for several other of Handel's works, but Messiah is probably his crowning glory. 

In today's Daily Office reading, Haggi the prophet proclaimed words given to h8im by God and intended for Zerubbabel, governor of Judah, Joshua, the high priest, and all the remnant people. God reminded the people that God was always with the people, just as God had been when the people left Egypt. That presence continued until that day and would continue. 

Probably the most familiar part of the prophecy of Haggi is verses 6-7b, which speak of the reward the faithful would receive, but first, there would be warnings of the seas and lands of all nations. Every time I read those words, Jennens' libretto and Handel's solo for bass play in my ear. The first few phrases are a setting for the following "I will shake the heavens and the earth, the sea and the dry land." The coloratura of the music emphasizes the shaking and trembling, and the listener is drawn into the prophecy itself. 

Advent is about listening to prophecy and heeding it. With the swarms of earthquakes that have been happening lately, this area and reading seem to be calling attention to the fact that God might be trying to get our attention. Ok, I don't really believe that God causes earthquakes, floods, tidal waves, volcanic eruptions, hurricanes, and the like.  I think that the planet and its environment create their own catastrophes. Still, God has often warned us enough in the Bible to be ready and care for our neighbors as we want them to care for us. 

This time of year, this awareness includes responding to natural disasters and offering aid and assistance to the homeless, prisoners, shut-ins, the mentally ill, and those who live in poverty. While it hasn't been an easy year for so many, it is still good to remember the conception and pregnancy of Mary and the birth of Jesus, and the various gifts given in his honor by the rich (in Epiphany) and the poor alike. 

Haggi's words still ring true, and beg to be heard and obeyed, in Advent and throughout the year.



Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Cafém Saturday, December 11, 2021.

Saturday, December 4, 2021

A Blue Christmas

 

Advent has arrived. One Sunday down, three more to go. Christmas lights are going up on homes and businesses (at least, the ones who didn't put theirs up around Labor Day). There are more Christmas songs on the radio, and the temperatures are lower than they were this summer, for which most of us (especially in Arizona) are most profoundly grateful. Commercials urge us to be merry and spend money. Still, a few bring a message that rings more with kindness, contributing to the benefit of others and peace. 

I've always loved Christmas. I loved the trees, the Christmas lights inside and outside, and the decorations people used on their landscapes. I loved shopping for gifts, smelling scents of spices and evergreens in the air, and the fact that quite a large number of folks seemed to be a lot more polite to each other. I notice that around Christmas, quite a few shoppers make way so that someone with just an item or two can go ahead of them. It used to be a kinder, gentler season, and I can only hope that this one is too.

Unfortunately, there are those for whom Christmas is not holly, jolly, or fun. For them, it is a drudgery to get through each day, a futile struggle to put on a happy face or decorate the house. It's a season of more than the usual isolation, away from parties and social occasions in which others revel. For some, it is depressing to be unable to buy Christmas gifts or special seasonal foods. It's exhausting to be around others, trying to portray an enjoyment of something that is far from enjoyable to them. 

For some, it is a time of mourning for loved ones who are no longer with us through death, illness, or distance. For others, the struggle with mental health issues feels like being in a storm-tossed sea with no rescue in sight. It is exhausting enough for those who are ill to move from chair to bed, much less decorate, cook, wrap, and do other typical holiday tasks. 

These are people who are frequently forgotten during this holiday season, including both Advent and Christmas. As we exhibit our personal and family happiness, joy, and anticipation, we don't think much about those who may be in our own circles who are suffering. We drop coins and bills in charity kettles and put canned food and presents into special boxes for the less fortunate. We take names off Giving Trees to ensure deprived children get something with their names on it for Christmas. Sometimes we visit rehabilitation centers and nursing homes to sing carols and spend time with those who are shut-in or alone and in need of care. It makes for a busy season for us, but we do it because it's part of the traditions of this time of year, and we feel good for having done it.

Some churches acknowledge that this season can be much different from how most people appear to feel. The churches deliberately attempt to draw in those who grieve, feel lost, or are alone. The usual date for such services is on the winter solstice, the "Longest Night" of the year. This year that date comes on December 22nd. 

The churches use these services for parishioners and strangers alike to come together to remember, heal, and hope. Worshippers are encouraged to light candles for whatever remembrance they wish to honor. The lighting is soft, and the atmosphere is quiet and peaceful. There are special prayers for the service, offering empathy, comfort, strength, and inclusion for those who are most alone at this time of year. It is a beautiful and uplifting experience. 

Who do you know who might be struggling this year? Is your church offering such a service to the wider community? If so, who could you invite? If not, is it something your church could offer?

Think of it like this. Isn't this showing those who need the most care the very thing Jesus told us to offer? Isn't this showing a love of neighbors that was one of the essential teachings Jesus left for us to do? Yes, we do things for others at Christmas, and yes, they show our love of neighbors and willingness to help with their needs. This gift of service helps a quiet group of people, seldom heard or thought of at a difficult time in their lives. 

It's amazing how uplifting a time of quiet reflection, an offer of remembrance, love, and comfort can be to the lonely, hurting people and even the healthy, happy folks as well. 

Blue Christmas is more than an old song by Elvis. It is a live, living source of comfort and joy. 


Originally published on Speaking to the Soul at Episcopal Café, Saturday, December 4, 2021