Christmas Eve - The Appetizer

Tonight I have brought with me a piece of greenery- although it is not so green any more- if I asked you to guess, you might think I have brought a kind of evergreen branch, a sprig of holly, or a shoot of mistletoe; it is none of those, it is a palm frond made into a cross.

I have a friend who recently asked me to preach at his funeral; this day is drawing nearer. Tonight, I carry this friend and his family close to my heart; I do at all times, but even more so, as they journey to and through the valley of the shadow of death. In our conversation he reminded me of an image from a book we read long ago; the author suggested that one go about living life’s journey with a piece of Palm Sunday’s palm branch present and visible – perhaps stuck in your car’s sun visor, as a book mark, on your desk, over a picture frame in your house.  The piece of palm is a reminder of the full purpose of life; the fulfillment of the possibilities presented tonight because of the birth of a child.

The image of the palm branch, dried and aged resonates with me, this Christmas, yet, juxtaposed to it, is the smell of pine and fir, the freshness of greenery. I noticed the same juxtaposition when a group of us from the church went Christmas caroling this past Friday. Our carols, sing of a baby, wrapped in clothes, lying in manger, with shepherds, and angels, in the quiet town of Bethlehem; and in the next breath the carols sing of death, sin, myrrh, nails, spears, and stone-cold tombs; all images to remind us that this child was born not for tonight, but, for the Three Days -Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, through Easter.

My friend being sick, and walking with parishioners who are dying, and families who are grieving, with those who are preparing in life for death and new life, has made me rather pensive over the past season of Advent. 

The mixing of Christmas story with images from the season of Lent and Easter, sum up the emotions and feelings that I have tonight; both sadness and joy sit side by side. Tonight, could very well be the last Christmas Eve for any one of us. 

This palm cross reminds me that tonight is only the appetizer.   Christmas wets our appetite to wrestle with life and death and life. Right now, being in the Northern Hemisphere, we are experiencing the longest nights and the shortest days; more darkness than light. Christmas comes to us in the darkness of the season, in the darkness of night, in whatever darkness we are experiencing in our lives and in the greater world. It is in darkness that hope exists.  Hope begins while one is standing in the midst of darkness; hope is standing in the dark looking towards a speck of light on the horizon; the closer one moves to the light, or the brighter the light becomes, that is hope growing.

Through the medium of story, the Christmas story, our darkness gives way to the possibility of redemption, of feeling hope and an abundance of possibility. A simple story full of beauty, Mystery, and awe, floats into a world of pain, your pain, my pain, a friend’s pain.  The light of tonight shines in the heavens for those in grief, those walking in valley of the shadow of death.  From the darkness, if you attune your ears, you will hear singing to calm the troubled spirit:  Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright.  

Think for a moment --- the valley has a shadow; there are no shadows without the presence light.

And that is what part of our expectation is tonight, to hear the story, to sing those calming words, to hear them as they settle into the darkness within, to see and experience light. We came at night through the dark for the glow of candle light and the twinkle of light through the Chrismons on the Christmas tree.

We also gather tonight for a foretaste of the feast to come, to share a meal at the table; the main course (that is- all that Holy Week and Easter are about).  Tonight, I revel in the Mystery and simplicity of God coming among us; through a baby and in bread and wine.  I am amazed by the power of simple songs and light, in dispelling darkness, and providing shadows in the valley.  Coming together to celebrate Mystery with you, sharing in this time with you, greens my spirit and allows me to focus on God’s incarnate presence; for this I am thankful.

The book I referred to earlier has a meaningful poem-prayer, that I share with you, as my prayer and Christmas offering, for those of us who sit in darkness; and in someway we all do.  In it the author, Edward Hays, talks about the pilgrimage to come -O Come  all ye faithful- to this sacred place where cloaks and layers of darkness are removed through singing, light, and community… it is then that we really come into God’s Mystery, and with hope brimming with possibility we come and eat of the presence of  God.  The feeling, the tears that sometimes people experience here, that overwhelming presence, that is hope flooding one with gratitude and settling into the fabric of our beings as joy.

Edward prays:

I will go up to the altar of God to sing songs of gratitude,

for God gives joy in youth, joy in middle age and the greatest joy in old age.

I go joyfully up to God’s holy altar, not in the chains of obligation, bowing, foot-dragging dreary, to do some duty,

but to dance drunk in gratitude before the Source, the Fountain of Joy.

Thank you, O God, for theft-proof joy and ageless idealism.

Thank you for the joy of work well and honestly done, for the easy yoke of obligations that are embraced out of love.

Thank you, too, for the joy of wisdom, gleaned from a glossary of many mistakes and errors.

I will go up to the altar of God who gives joy in youth, in middle years and in old age; I will go to God, the joy of my death

Tonight is only the appetizer. It is humanity standing in the darkness looking out and seeing light on the horizon.  The light is a child, born, full of potential, foretold by the prophets, ascribed with the hopes and dreams of a people.  We stand in the darkness and move towards the light, growing in hope with each step. Thankful for the simplicity of this night, thankful that we have come, thankful that for a time we feel safe.

Tonight, as we walk to the altar of God, we walk with hope through the valley of the shadow of death -  for some of us this is a weekly track, for some it is only this night of the year, for others it may be your first time;  God’s presence is offered to everyone.  And for this we walk towards, we go to God’s holy altar, out of gratitude…in gratitude for the baby -for God incarnate among us; but, in the fullness of the Three Days – the main course; that God would set aside violent retribution, revolution, and revenge, to lay down God’s own life in love to bring kingdom to birth in a renewed way, by opening the possibility for forgiveness, compassion, mercy, grace, and through death to create life.

It is digesting God’s presence that crystalizes God’s joy. Edward Hays reflects that: The charming mark of every authentic disciple of Christ Jesus is: Joy.; joy amidst the darkness of our time.

We end tonight’s service singing, Joy to the world, the Lord is Come.  Believe it or not, Isaac Watts did not write this to be a Christmas carol. It is based not on the Christmas story, but, rather, on the redemption that comes through Jesus’ last days, and Jesus’ coming again.  The carol is a juxtaposition of Genesis 3 – referring to Adam’s sin, sorrow, and curse, with thorns infesting the ground, in other words, darkness; the darkness is set beside Psalm 98; O sing unto the Lord a new song; for he has done marvelous things…Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all the earth -joy.

Tonight with palm cross in hand, I am going to let the words of Silent Night, melt the darkness within me, in the simplicity of greenery, light, bread and wine, I will marvel at the shadows in the valley of death – for they are created with light; for now I will not fear death, for it is new life; for this I will come to the altar of God with gratitude, with the hope that gratitude will be realized as joy.

Tonight, dance drunk in gratitude before the Source and Fountain of Joy, may there be many shadows in the valley, and through joy embrace all you do out of love.

A Love Affair (Advent 3C)

‘tis the season… when not making preparations for Christmas, or attending the wealth of concerts, events, or festive get-togethers… ‘tis the season, to snuggle down with a book or movie. Now, not just any book, rather, a Christmas novel, the sort where no matter what crisis has befallen the characters, or how much they might hate this time of year, in the end relationships are on their way to healing, but more often than not people are coupled up, there is love and there are new beginnings.  It is the same with the Christmas movies, there is some crisis or problem, more often than not there is a love story, and in the end, problems have solutions, relationships are renewed, people find each other, love is in the air, and the story finishes in peace and good cheer.  It is happy and is all right with the world.

There is an expectation when one watches the Christmas movie or reads the Christmas novel that all will work out for the best.  The stories build to the climax when all is made right, people are optimistic and uplifted, a place where love abounds, and one is left feeling content, pleased, hopeful.

‘tis the season, for Advent scripture readings, meaning texts that start in a conundrum, in darkness and sin, in a world at war, confused and afraid.  There is an expectation that the text will take us to the hope of fulfilled promises; promise that come in the form of a baby, and in the second coming of Christ, the brilliance and wholeness of the last day. There is an expectation that there will be light and love.  Advent readings are to leave one uplifted, optimistic, and hopeful – unafraid. They are like reading a Christmas novel or watching a Christmas movie.

The Zephaniah text is the epitome of Advent scripture and a Christmas novel. Zephaniah is a collection of oracles from 630 BCE.  They are gloomy speaking of a global catastrophe to be brought on by the worship of other gods – this is the crisis, the problem.  There was a host of deities to worship, from Baal god of the Canaanites, to Milcom chief deity of Ammon, to hosts in the heavens…astral deities; and there was Yahweh. Choose one today, a different one tomorrow; suit yourself, suit your needs, copy your neighbours, whatever worked for you. Zephaniah warned that this was trouble.

He reminded the people of the past. People remember, the stories of your ancestors who witnessed and perished in water – the great flood. They choose to worship other gods.  Zephaniah reminds them of the great flood and stresses that next time it will be great fire, and it will be on their heads. The oracles speak of universal destruction; no one is off the hook, as Zephaniah indicts rival nations and Jerusalem itself.

But then, … ‘tis the season… the gloom is followed by Oracles of salvation -joy, gladness, rejoicing, exultation. Disaster will be removed, fear will dissipate, exiles will be gathered, fortunes will be restored, God will be in their midst.  The oracles end: at that time I will bring you home, at the time when I gather you; for I will make you renowned and praised among all the peoples of the earth, when I restore your fortunes before your eyes, says the Lord.

‘tis the season for love. The oracle from Zephaniah is a love song, comparable to the erotic poetry of the Song of Solomon.  The oracle has put in God’s mouth affectionate and endearing names for the people.  With tenderness the Word is spoken: O daughter of Zion! O daughter of Jerusalem! Sing joyfully O Israel.

This is familial language. It reflects relational living. The addition of identifying the people with Israel, is used to encompass all God’s people.  As always, God’s relationship with the people is centred on the covenant made with their forebears, that God would be their God.

Prophets through the ages spoke of this relationship as a bridegroom and bride. Here we have images of a King and his city (Jerusalem), a warrior and his prize; a lover and his beloved.

Verse 17 says: the Lord, your God, is in your midst, a warrior who gives victory; he will rejoice over you with gladness, he will renew you in his love; he will exult over you with loud singing as on a day of festival.

I read in a commentary that the Talmud contains a reflection by Rabbi Arika – reflecting on God who rejoices and exults with loud singing; the question arises “what is God praying?”  The Talmudic answer: May my compassion overcome my wrath! -meaning God prays that the desire for divine mercy and compassion be greater than the divine demand for justice.  With the salvific promises that follow in the text, compassion--- love ---- explodes.

The joy of God, God’s ecstasy- if you will, is that the beloved, the people have returned to the covenant.  There is renewed love from the estranged spouse. The passage is one of deep intimacy, and if read in the original language would likely make us blush. The phrase, rejoice over you, exult over you, can be understood as sexual intimacy.   The point being that relationship with God is one that is deep within the practices and faithfulness of a people; relationship with God requires living intercourse; where intimacy with God – experiencing God’s love and compassion, works in the course of one’s interaction with others.

The day of the Lord is the fruition of living intercourse; where all matter is unified, at one, and made whole.  This is a day of complete renewal that brings God great joy.

Lest you think I have wandered far from the meaning of the text or consider the thought of such blatant sexual intimacy with God as going too far, let us take a moment and consider the Spanish mystic and Carmelite, St. John of the Cross.  Many will have heard of his poem, The Dark Night of the Soul. However, it is his poem, The Spiritual Canticle of the Soul and the Bridegroom Christ, that is the epitome of his theology. The Spiritual Canticle is a love song between God and the soul.  John was a mystic and believed that the wisdom and encounter with Christ that he experienced was next to impossible to share with others. Words were a pale expression of God’s love, and compassion.  John decided that the only tool that could possibly articulate the interplay of love and tenderness in the soul at being overwhelmed by the extraordinary mercy of God and divine love, was poetry. His poem has 40 verses, which he never tried to explain line by line.  Spiritual marriage, relationship with God, living intercourse, as written in words, in a poem was about the feeling, gathering a sense of what this covenant gift was all about.

I have chosen not to read any of the poem, you can google, Spiritual Canticle and John of the Cross, later. The erotic love poetry and images in the Song of Solomon are almost mild in comparison to those found in the work of St. John of the Cross, perhaps simply because the images of attraction are closer to those used in our time.  Enough to make one blush.

I invite you to think of a person whom you love or have loved very much – perhaps a spouse, a partner, a best friend, a sister/brother, favourite aunt/uncle, a parent, a grandparent – picture the person you love or loved the most.  Bring to mind a couple of tender moments; ponder shared experiences; grasp how you feel when you are with this person. Think of words you would use to describe this person, your relationship, your love. What would you do for this person?  What emotions do you feel when you think about your beloved?

Now, if you were to write a love poem to them what would you say, what would you include?

Would it sound like these snippets from history?

My Beloved speaks to me and says: Arise my love, my fair one, and come away; for now the winter is past and the rain is over and gone.  Arise my love, my fair one, and come away. –-Song of Solomon 2: 10

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.   ---Elizabeth Barrett Browning

How does Love speak?
In the faint flush upon the telltale cheek,
And in the pallor that succeeds it; by
The quivering lid of an averted eye--
The smile that proves the parent to a sigh
Thus doth Love speak.   ---Ella Wheeler Wilcox

All of this said, ‘tis the season … for Christmas novels, Christmas movies; for Advent scriptures; for love --- and for love poetry.

Zephaniah, St John of the Cross, come to us in the middle of Advent, with overtly passionate love poetry – suggestive and intimate, -- urging communion with the Divine, an appetite for intense devotion and desire, demanding passion, a lust for joyous rapture, fervour for intimacy and love.

Living intercourse between our souls and God, being able to share the intimacy of compassion and love, requires communication.  In Zephaniah God speaks through the prophet, it is said that God sings loudly- God puts love into words to woe our hearts.  It is said that this happens as on a day of festival.  I think of weddings, with vows, and speeches, scripted cards, and toasts. Love articulated into words.

‘tis the season… to consider yourself beloved and in an intimate relationship, a spiritual marriage, with God. 

This being so, I invite you to do some pre-Christmas homework, an Advent exercise: write a love poem from your soul to God. Just as you would for the person you most love in this world, capture the essence of your relationship with God; your hopes, your dreams, your failings, your needs, your desires, your thanksgiving – and offer it back in a love poem, a love prayer.

‘tis the season… to ecstatically rejoice in the Lord always! And again I say, rejoice.

And may the peace – intimate love- of God which surpasses all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.