Accepting Paradox - Advent 4

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Oh do I like to be right! 

Get me in an argument, get me explaining something, try to contradict me...I don’t like to be proven wrong – ask my children, or my husband Tim.  (Tim?...)

 

Augsburg’s, Sunday and Seasons, begins their section on ‘Preparing for Christmas: Preaching’ stating:

“Preaching during the 12 days of Christmas calls us to reflect on a paradox of this season: the good news is both cosmic and local. Woven throughout the Christmas lessons are threads of the universal and the specific.”

This too has been evident in our readings and hymns through Advent. The texts have us waiting for the Messiah, and praising that we are waiting for the return of the Messiah. We hear of the end of time, the kingdom of God in its fullness – and yet at the same time are called to bring the kingdom now. We speak of God as beyond and yet coming in a baby. In this time of being a Christian we already know the final days of the baby’s adult life; our Christmas hymns include all kinds of imagery from the season of Lent – a constant reminder that this life – was a life born to die.

 The Messiah is quite a paradox - 100% God, 100% human -both can't be true? both are. 

I think Lutheran theologians Braaten and Jensen describe it best, that God became human because of a love for the created creatures, enough to set aside Godhood to be fully human, to die -not as a sacrifice or atonement- rather out of love, a choice of love; so that human hearts might see/feel and receive love; ‘that one should die for me.’  The story of a baby is to worm its way into human hearts, to  change peoples' hearts for the coming of the reign of God now--- freedom in the fullest sense of wholeness- brought about by an experience of relationship, God’s love for us. We have heard many times the stories of parents besot with love for a new born baby. It boggles the mind however, to consider that death and the grief at losing a loved one, actually has the power to draw out one’s love for that person in a visceral way (sometimes more than when the person was alive).

In the snippet from the Romans text, is the gospel in a sentence; talking of a specific person Jesus, and the cosmic in the same breath. This ending is to emphasis the completion of God’s promises to God’s people. The paradox of wholeness is that it is impossible to bring about unless it embraces/grows in utter brokenness.  The paradox of Law/Gospel contains a tension where the shared point is relationship - with God, humans, and when these are in order, creation will be healed and stop groaning (this is totally a one sentence explanation of Pauline theology from Romans). 

 

At first glance a paradox is a statement/image/thought that seems contradictory or impossible, but in actuality is possible.  Often a paradox is a logic problem that seems to go against our intuitive inclination.

For instance: We can be healthy, but not well.  In order to be dying, one actually has to be living.

A line from a St. Francis’ hymn tells us that: It is in giving that we receive.  Others have commented that the more we give, the more we have.

 

We live in paradox. At no other time in the church are the paradoxes so obvious.  The texts, seem to be like a snowstorm of paradox after paradox, smothering us. At first hearing, the Samuel and Romans texts don’t even sound like Advent or Christmas texts. 4^th Sunday of Advent texts have not been heard at Resurrection for decades... this is usually Christmas Pageant Sunday. That is one reason they sound a little strange. The other is that the ideas are cosmic, not necessarily specific, until the time has come for them to be so.

 

We live in paradox. Those of us who have been in Lutheran congregations for some time regularly hear Lutheran language that emphasizes the paradox. We speak and teach of Law/grace, simultaneously being saint/sinner, living in a state of freedom/bondage. In Eucharist we speak of the Body and blood of Christ,  yet elements are bread and wine.

Bishop Elizabeth Eaton recently spoke to the members of the ELCA and reminded them that the Lutheran church is  “a church of both/and in an either/or world.” This reflects a church that can hold more than one truth in tension: we have freedom in Christ, but because of this freedom are bond to one another. Faith may be a personal experience, but it is relational and lived in community.

 

Advent is a season that illustrates the paradox.  We hold to the possibility that there is:

Hope in sadness, peace in chaos, freedom in bondage, liberation in captivity.

 

Lutheran Theologian Gordon Lathrop wrote in a book for pastors on the topic of spirituality: “Pastors ought to know about thinking, honouring, even loving two or more contrary ideas at the same time, refusing rigid intolerance while not losing their courage to express conviction.” I believe this is true for all of us.  Lathrop goes on to suggest that ability to do this – to entertain the possibility of holding contrary ideas in tension- actually opens one’s heart to the practice of hospitality.

 

Each week in Advent we have received a practice to help us journey through the Season: the practice of attention and imagination, the practice of gathering and sharing Word, and the practice of simplicity.

Today’s practice is a little different – although we are reflecting on paradox, I can’t really ask you to go and practice it.  Paradoxes just are. What we can do however, is practice accepting paradox and be okay with -even welcome- the tension of holding seemingly opposite ideas at the one time.

There have been a number of instances in my ministry where I have practiced what a colleague calls, ‘being theologically orthodox but practically liberal.’ What this means is that despite a theological perspective I hold to be true, in practice I might act opposite or outside of my belief for the sake of the other. It might be: giving communion to someone who is not Christian, baptizing a child even if the parents aren’t baptized, marrying people in the church even though their reason has nothing to do with God, keeping views silent so that there might be teaching moments from the inside- change little by little, or providing a blessing or prayer for issues/circumstances to support a person even if the choice being prayed about does not sit well with me at all. 

I can do this because I have practiced accepting paradox. It allows me freedom to welcome – give hospitality to people who come: people often on the fringes, people who want conversation on matters of spirituality, people wrestling with God or an idea of God, people who are exhausted of what is and seek something different, people who want to be loved and accepted and belong and participate first, before committing – to experience rather than get tied up in the logic and the paradoxes. It is not always a comfortable place to be, but in the discomfort, I rest calmly in the acceptance of paradox, that I continually wrestle with tension, faith and practice, and it is good.  I agree with feminist Letty M. Russell who wrote that, “hospitality is the practice of God’s welcome by reaching across difference to participate in God’s actions bringing justice and healing to our world in crisis.”

 

I leave you this morning with a thought to take us back to the starting point of this sermon – that the Good News is both cosmic and local. Author Kaitlyn Schiess in her book, “The Liturgy of Politics: Spiritual Formation for the Sake of Our Neighbour,”  wrote: the discipline of hospitality might be the greatest example of this idea I’m desperate to advance: our political beliefs and advocacy are not primarily built on grand, sweeping claims to which we mentally assent; they are often built on ordinary impulses and biases that we inherit and absorb in small, everyday actions.”

 

I invite you to embrace paradox, practice accepting paradox, so that we might grow our capacity for hospitality. Our big dreams, God’s big dreams, the fruition of faith, the visions and prophecies of the prophets, this great story of a baby born -who grows and loves the world so much, and chooses to die to express that love...so that we might understand... are grand and sweeping visions - cosmic; but our world is changed (not through the big dreams) but through the hospitality that we offer through ordinary impulses, biases we inherit, paradox we wrestle with, and our everyday actions.

 

Accept paradox and in so doing bless your neighbourhood  -and the cosmos- with hospitality.

Amen.

 

ADVENT 3: Simplicity

 

Last Sunday we heard the simple story of John the Baptist in the wilderness baptizing in the Jordan River. He was preaching that he was preparing the way of the Lord -quoting from scripture, words spoken by Isaiah the prophet. John preached a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.

This Sunday we hear a more complicated story of John the Baptist.  Written 30 years later -or so- the Gospel of John has added all kinds of images, explanations, and theology to the story.

We understand how this works.  Consider your favourite stories to tell – or better yet a story that a partner or parents repeats often – over time has the story stayed the same?  Of course not. It is embellished with each recounting. People respond or ask questions, things get added, problematic pieces are taken out.  Actions might be added, long pauses .. if you get a laugh that part stays.  The teller of the story – if the story is about them-  becomes more and more the hero in each reiteration.    Meaning gets added to pieces of the story, or other stories, from before or after get added to punctuate the validity of the original story.

 

Being confronted with these two very different versions of the John the Baptist story, has had me reflecting this week on simplicity. Without much thought I certainly kept coming back to the realization that human beings have a propensity for making simple things very complicated.

As we have been considering holy practices for this season of Advent – the practice of attention and imagination; the practice of gathering and sharing the Word; this week we add the practice of simplicity.

 

A quick google search of the ‘practice of simplicity,’ offers two main ways to do this: own less and do less so that you can be more. Both of these -owning less and doing less- I commend to you; however, this is not where the sermon takes us this morning.  

 

Steve Jobs said: Simple can be harder than complex: you have to work to get your thinking clean to make it simple. But it’s worth it in the end because once you get there, you can move mountains.

 

To practice simplicity  we have to work at changing our thinking; changing the patterns of our brain.

 To prepare our hearts for the coming of Christ, let us begin with exercises for the brain, so that the brain will follow our heart song.

As crazy as this might sound, this week to practice simplicity try one or both of the following:

First when giving an answer to a question respond with either yes or no – that would mean no added commentary, or asking someone else what they think, or waiting to try to determine what the person asking wants to hear, no colouring your response with an excuse or explanation.  Yes, this sounds easy enough...  until you consider the answers one usually gives to questions.  Answering only yes or no is not our common practice.  We generally rely on extra thoughts and words to either avoid answering a question directly or to validate our choice. Practice simplicity – yes and no.

Second when getting dressed forget about choosing clothes. Simply reach your hand into your drawer or closet.  Pull out underwear, a pair of socks, a shirt, bottoms...don’t even bother to look or match or think about what the outfit will look like.  How much fun would that be?  Honestly, we are mostly at home anyway. So shake off preconceived ideas of what goes together, is proper, is expected... with making fewer well thought out choices -about something that really doesn’t matter so much- you are training new pathways in your brain.  The added bonus of participating in this activity is that every time you see yourself in a mirror, you will see yourself differently because you look different.

You are practicing simplicity.

 

Advent is a season when we are called to dream, to hope, to see what can be, to focus on promises and the fruition of those promises.  God is nudging us to expand our horizons – to expand how we think and how we participate in the bringing of God’s promises to this time and place.

 

Through Advent we hear the words of the prophets, songs from Zechariah, Mary, and Simeon. All contain similar words, words that speak of God’s vision of wholeness for creation.

This morning we hear the words from Isaiah - simple words – we have heard them many times before:

Speak good news to the oppressed, bind up the broken hearted, proclaim liberty to the captive, release to the prisoners,  comfort those who mourn.  All are simple instructions.

 

But our experience is that these are not simple instructions. And you would be right in so far as human beings have trouble with simple.  Speaking good news to the oppressed, binding up the broken hearted, proclaiming liberty to the captive, release to the prisoners, and comforting those who mourn are complicated by politics, religion, , philosophy, societal norms, culture, race, status quo.  In facing change to work towards fulfillment of promise and creating vision into reality – we spend a lot of time worrying and focusing on trying to keep everyone happy, not wanting to put ourselves in a corner by picking sides; we want to be seen as politically correct, have our opinion heard (and acted on), not have changes affect the life we are living, and we do not want to be ‘that’ person who rocks the boat. We do not practice simplicity.

 

Some of the biggest problems in the world have simple solution:

homelessness: build or provide a shelter for someone

hunger: give food

thirst: provide a clean water source

war: stop fighting

It is really quite simple!  Human beings are the ones who have made solutions complex.

Remember what Steve Jobs said: Simple can be harder than complex: you have to work to get your thinking clean to make it simple. But it’s worth it in the end because once you get there, you can move mountains.

And there it is – you can move mountains. God’s vision is possible, now. You can build and provide shelter. You can relieve hunger. You can provide water. You can stop fighting. If enough of us practice simplicity and model using simple solutions, homelessness, hunger, thirst, and war would be no more.

 

Advent is a season that gives us a chance to strip away the ‘extras’ and return to the foundation of who we are and what we are to be; as created in God’s image. This year, like non-other in our lifetime, is an opportunity to reflect and determine the simple truths. Without the same mad-dash to Christmas we have time to ponder the simplicity of faith, life, relationship, hope, peace, joy, love.

My prayer is that as each of us ponders and practices simplicity, the beautiful words of the prophet rest in our hearts – as a heart song- and that our brains refrain from complex acrobatics and rather follow our hearts to blanket the world in hope, peace, joy, love – solving the world’s biggest problems – for the healing of the whole world.

 

The German-British economist E.F. Schumacher once said: Any intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex, and more violent. It takes a touch of genius – and a lot of courage to move in the opposite direction.

 

God grace you with a touch of genius and a lot of courage, much courage, to move in the opposite direction.  Amen.

Advent 2: Heart Songs

  The first Sunday of Advent we were presented with two practices for our journey through the season. Commended to us were the practice of attention and the practice of imagination. This morning we are offered two more practices to assist us in reflecting through the journey of Advent.

This past week I read the most beautiful line, written by Diana Gabaldon, in her book: “A Breath of Snow and Ashes;” Now’s the time we re-enter the womb of the world, dreaming the dreams of snow and silence. (REPEAT)

This word-thought has been zipping around my brain for days. When I read it I wrote it out immediately.  It sits well with me. It feels good to me.  It speaks deeply and resonates as truth to me. I can’t explain it in its entirety to you – I feel what it means, and it is wrapped up with the comfort of themes of hibernation, protection, warmth, purity, holiness, calm, peace, home.

Over the years, I have kept a journal book, wherein I write down lines that surprise me and fill me with ideas and thoughts; with phrases that gave -give- me something I didn’t even know I needed.

For Itty-Bitty Bible Study this past week I posted a verse, Isaiah 40: 8:

The grass withers and flower fades, but, the word of God stands forever. I chose this verse because it has meant something to me for a very long time. I put this verse to memory around the age of 15 – I liked the passage and it made me feel there was purpose and that things would be okay no matter what was going on.  The comments from others made on the post described how these words to them are comforting, give hope, help us imagine something far beyond our current state. 

The words resonate. The verse need not be explained (in fact it rings better when not exegeted to death or explained). It is the beauty, simplicity, and articulation of our own death – grass and flowers that pass away- and the promise of resurrection and continuance of the Great Spirit, God Present and Beyond.

Through Advent we hear the words of the prophets, the song of Mary, hymn texts rich in image – gems to hold onto.

Today we are being called to a practice of gathering Word.

Gathering Word is purposefully collecting words that resonate within us, touching those deep places where only the Holy Spirit can penetrate. Gathering Word is creating a compendium of words filled with hope, encouragement, comfort, and challenge -for you- as cache to support you, help you carry on, to assist you in living one day at a time.

Leah Pellegrini – on her blog “The Core Stories”, writes: the Cord Stories are tiny tales of human truth. They cut through the chaos of contemporary culture to find the sweet seeds of meaning at the center: the timelessness in timely trends, the heart in the hustle, and the magnificence in the mess. 

I have sat with many people over the years in their homes, at their bed sides, in times of stress, facing difficult circumstances, death, grief.  More often than not the person or family I am with share tiny tales of human truth, phrases that cut through the chaos, lines to offer meaning, and magnificence in the mess... yes, I hear the phrases - scripture, sayings,  hymn lyrics, lines of poetry  - in English, French, Dane, Estonian, Latvian, German... recited lines that have been taken to heart.  Such joy comes from these snippets because I hear them as the persons heart song. One’s heart song is that song that sings volumes of faith, hope, compassion, love – the centre of a person’s being.

Heart songs aren’t just there, heart songs are created through the journey of one’s life, and what one choses to gather to add to their song and their understanding of who they are and who they aim to be.

The practice of gathering Word is important – the Word gathered grounds us, supports us, feeds us in times of need, and is the wisdom we leave as we pass from this life to the next.

 

There is no better season to practice gathering the Word – rich as it is in the voices of the prophet, songs of the ages, the images of hope in sadness, peace in chaos, freedom in bondage, liberation in captivity.

And we are also given an additional option this year.

ELCIC Bishop Susan Johnson has called the church to a year of Scripture reading and Bible Study. Each month the ELCIC office sends out the book to be studied.  Readers read Genesis, then took on Deuteronomy and 1 Kings. For the month of December we are encouraged to read through the Psalms; wherein there are a plethora of text from which to gather Word.

The practice of gathering Word – through the rest of the season when you hear or read a phrase, line, image – in scripture or in hymn; write out the words. Place them in a journal where you can return to them again and again. Or write them on cue cards to read one a day. Perhaps put them on sticky notes and place them around your home. Commit the words to memory. Gather your texts on slips of paper and put them in an actual basket, where when you walk by you can pull a slip and read a snippet of Word.

 

There second part of the practice of gathering Word, is the Practice of sharing your heart song.

 

In 1946, Dr. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, the psychiatrist who authored the book ‘On Death and Dying,’ visited the Maidanek concentration camp in Poland. In her memoirs she tells of her experience in the children’s barracks. Looking past the debris of little shoes and clothing left behind, she noticed that the walls were graffitied – using pebbles and finger nails children had carved hundreds of butterflies on the walls. Over the years, working with those who were terminally ill, Dr. Kubler-Ross reflected that the children must have known they were going to die. She wrote: “they knew that soon they would become butterflies.  Once dead, they would be out of that hellish place. Not tortured anymore. Not separated from their families. Not sent to gas chambers. None of this gruesome life mattered anymore.  Soon they would leave their bodies the way a butterfly leaves its cocoon. And I realized that was the message they wanted to leave for future generations ... It is also provided the imagery that I would use for the rest of my career to explain the process of death and dying.”   Rather than words, it was image, -imagination to dream, hope, and share – a word, an image- freedom amidst bondage; beauty amidst terror, life amidst death.

The little ones shared their heart songs for those who would be in that place after them. Their gathered Word – shared- was wisdom greater than themselves.

 

Is this not the practice and action of Advent? Gathering and sharing -hope, peace, joy, love.

 

The Spirit be with you on your journey, deeply planting the Word you gather, and emboldening you to share your heart song with others.