Advent 11 -- Let There Be Peace on Earth

Last Sunday we lit the candle of peace on the Advent wreath for this week. Here is a Vince Gill's version of "Let There Be Peace on Earth" for your Advent meditation. This is also appropriate because today is International Human Rights Day, as declared by the UN General Assembly in 1950.

Advent 10 - Sacred Spaces

        In the peak of our anticipation of God’s gift, we must prepare ourselves to receive it. Even Mary, after the angel’s proclamation, had 9 months to prepare. But it occurs to me, that in our preparation, God might be missed if the gift doesn’t meet our preconceived notions of what such a gift might be. Most Jews rejected Jesus because they expected their Messiah to come as a mighty man of valor, a conqueror, an earthly image of royalty or warrior, but instead that got a child born into ridiculously meager circumstances (a barn and feeding trough) on quiet, calm night.

         Likewise, most people expect God to come in a shout or a bang, but God sent the most significant gift in the silence of a night and often speaks to us in the same way. So, in order to prepare for God’s good gift, we have to be intentional and practical about creating what I like to call Sacred Spaces that might allow us to hear the voice and feel the guiding, leading and nudging of God.

         A sacred place is a place all your own— inside or outside your home, holding a deeply meaningful object, experiencing the peace of your surroundings. In essence,  it’s a place where you can disappear from the demands and distractions of everyday life and be alone with God to recharge. Christian singer Amy Grant puts it this way in her song, I Need a Silent Night.
 

“I need a silent night, a holy night
To hear an angel voice through the chaos and the noise
I need a midnight clear, a little peace right here
To end this crazy day with a silent night”

I can’t remember where (so please forgive my plagiarism), but I once read some guidelines for creating quiet sacred space. Find them below.

1. It should be a place far from household activity centers. Not a place for paying bills or reading reports. Not a place associated with shoulds and ought-tos. And not a place with meaningless clutter or anchored with items that make you feel burdened or sad.
2. It should be a very personal place. Some people surround themselves with symbols that help them relax and 'center'—photos, books, inspiring quotes, or a special gift from a beloved someone. Try to find symbols that trigger awareness of how you are seeking God in your life.
3. Now, ensure you can be comfortable in this space—both with what you're wearing and how you occupy this space. With the space and place set, you can let your mind begin to remember who you are and listen within to God's purpose for you.
4. You may find it helpful, when getting started, to open your time with a favorite prayer—it can be as simple as quiet gratitude for the people you love. If you already have a sacred space, perhaps now is a good time to refresh your space with photos that trigger good memories, special keepsakes, or other images that you think are beautiful or inspirational.
    

 

Your sacred place is a place where you can be true to yourself, where you can live what you believe. It’s something you don’t have to share with anyone else. It’s your own holy ground—return whenever needed. Do you have a sacred space?  If not, commit this Advent to creating a time and space where you can experience your own Silent and Holy Night.

 

 -- Rev. Ray Jordan

 

Advent 9 - Winston

“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”
~Maya Angelou

      When considering the Christmas story, most persons would highlight the major events…angels, managers, and shepherds. However, I’m often drawn to the human emotion found between the lines. Can you imagine how terrified a young teenage Mary must have been…BUT then she finds comfort in Joseph and her cousin Elizabeth! Joseph, due to the culture, was faced with a difficult decision BUT then he gets a message from an angel. Both Mary and Joseph must have been distraught by the thought of having no place to deliver baby Jesus, BUT then there’s a stable and visits from shepherds and “kings.”  Their hearts must have soared in gratitude and relief!
       When I come home after a long day I’m not exactly greeted by angels, shepherds or Wise Men BUT I do have Winston (or “Winnie” as I affectionately call him). Winston is my 4-year-old West Highland Terrier and he, like most of our pets, can fill me with great emotion. He adores me and always makes me feel appreciated and loved unconditionally.
        So, during this Advent season take a moment to recognize those, human or otherwise, that make us feel loved and valued. For, just as Elizabeth and Joseph and the Wise Men did for Mary, God expresses God’s love and care for us in many different ways, and if we’re lucky, some of them even come with fur!

-- Rev. Ray Jordan

Advent 8 - Preparing the Way

Sermon given by Rev. Christine Ng on December 7th based on Isaiah 40:1-11

What a time to be speaking about “God in the World.” On the surface, at least, there has been plenty of cause to question “Where is your God?” Verdicts that make a mockery of human justice, 12-year old boys shot by those who should be protecting them, more hostages killed in the Middle East despite our efforts to free them, another typhoon hits the Philippines, Ebola continues to rage in Sierra Leone, I could go on. The past two weeks in particular it feels like we get one piece of news that strikes us in the heart, and before we can begin to recover, we’re hit by another. I don’t know about you, but I’ve felt battered and heart sore.
And as I watch and read I can’t help thinking, this is not the world I hope for, this is not the country I hope for, it’s not what anyone hoped for. There are moments when it doesn’t even look like home, not the home I thought I had, that I thought I knew.
And I wonder, if perhaps that’s what the Babylonian exiles felt. They had come through a catastrophe. Their city and homes destroyed. Marched far away to a foreign land. Disasters like this, they make people afraid, and despairing. They undermine faith in God and in the traditions of the world that seemed, at least, to make the world orderly and secure.
And it had been long, so long. They believed God lived in the Temple in Jerusalem. Had God even gone with them when they were forced into exile? “Where, where is our God?”
“Here,” replies the words of the prophet, “here is your God.” The words of Second Isaiah recognize the people’s pain, and are like a healing balm poured over those deep, aching wounds. “Comfort, O comfort my people,” tenderly says your God. Your exile is ending. It is time; it is time.
And we hear the familiar words that echo is the gospels, a voice crying out “In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.” I’ve been thinking a lot this week about wildernesses and deserts. The how painful are the experiences that land us in that place. And I think perhaps we miss some of the power of these passages because for many of us the wilderness is a lovely place. Most people when asked where to they feel most connected with God will say in nature. And myself I’m partial to the high desert landscape. I feel very at home there.
But in the Bible, the wilderness and the desert are not such benign places. They are what’s left in the aftermath of destruction. Not Yellowstone or Yosemite, more like Hiroshima after the bomb. Great pain, loss, and confusion have put us in this place. And it is the landscape we must cross to reconnect with God. It’s a landscape we cross every Advent as we are called to “prepare the way of the Lord.” Advent is a time of waiting, yes, but also of pilgrimage – the kind of pilgrimage the magi began long before Jesus’ birth.
And Advent is a threshold moment – a doorway in which we stand between what is and what will be. We are still in exile, in the desert wilderness, but we will be in a place where God is revealed. It has been said when we use the future tense of the verb “to be” death has been negated, they are  words of hope. And this passage is full of them. “Every valley will be lifted up, and every mountain and hill will be made low; the uneven ground will become level and the rough places will become a plain.”
These words resonate strongly as just how uneven the terrain is before us has recently been starkly revealed. And also just how far we have to go.
But notice, the text doesn’t say specifically who will lift up the valleys, lower the mountains, make level the uneven ground. It’s in the passive voice. “every valley will be lifted up” – by who?
I think it is by us. It is up to us, with God’s help, to cross the threshold, step out into the wilderness and build that highway. God shows us the way, but we’re the road crew. Ours is a world under construction. And knowing that, we need to step out in faith and begin the work – begin to build that highway that connects us with each other and that reveals the presence and the love of God.
And like any major highway project – and Lord knows we’ve experienced our share of highway projects in Dallas, it can be disruptive of everyday life. It can lead to unsettling times. And there are times during construction when we may wish the project had never been started. But we keep on in hope, holding onto the vision of what it will be like – that, as the scripture says, “then the glory of the Lord will be revealed and all people – all people – shall see it together.”
But there’s another aspect to this as well. Do you remember a few weeks ago when lake effect snow covered the northeast? There were all these images of snow piled high, covering houses, bringing normal life to a standstill. There were these amazing images of people building covered tunnels out of their doorways. Someone opened a door that had snow solid packed in front of it and carved out a beer fridge. Now that’s thinking.
For a time, the world was like a frozen wilderness again. No roads you could see, let alone travel. Familiar landmarks obscured. Wave after wave hit. No time to dig out in between.
Eventually the snow plows came, the weather warmed enough for the snow to melt. But for a while there was only individuals with their shovels – clearing the snow from cars and house roofs before they collapse. Finding a way to get to the store to get baby formula, or food for elderly neighbors or family. Making a way, where there didn’t seem to be a way. Building highways in the desert. Being the hands of God.
John Robinson, retired Presbyterian minister, tells a story of such a storm one Advent. Before the plows could clear the streets, he was able with the help of some others to get to an elderly parishioner to check on him, bring him some food, and find a way to get him to safer shelter.
The power was out, he wouldn’t leave, but they sat around the fire and talked. The man was lost in that frozen wilderness, despondent, without hope. He said to John, “I don’t think Jesus will come for me again this year.” He had been waiting, it seems, forever, to see God. And he had no hope that this Christmas would be any different. He would be alone in the dark.
And yet, there was John. Bringing him food. The warmth of his presence. “Comfort, o comfort my people.” Christ ahd already come to him, and he couldn’t see it, and he wouldn’t leave.
Sometimes before we take on that construction project, step out into the world’s wilderness to build a highway for our God, we need to prepare our inner landscape first. We must be ready, prepared to do the work of God. What are the rough places within us that need to be healed? Can we find places of connection between the rocky terrain inside us and the topography around us? Are we open to seeing how God is working with us through us and others, and how that will change us and our world? Can we hear God’s voice in the voices of those trying to build this road with us, those whose voices have too often been silenced?
God comforts us in this passage, yes, but it’s not just a pleasant holiday sentiment. God comforts us so that we may become what God has wanted us to be all along, God’s children, God’s agents, God’s road crew empowered by God’s love to build highways for our God in our world, so that we, and our brothers and sisters, will be exiles no more.
Because in this work, perhaps our most powerful tool is our voice. “Cry out!” we are told. “Lift up your voice.” Let it show people the uneven places up ahead that need work, let it comfort those stuck in the valley’s of despair. Let it bring words of Advent hope. God is with us, and God’s glory will be revealed, God’s word will stand forever – and that word is justice, that word is grace, that word is love.
I believe we are living in an Advent moment; exiles still, but standing at the threshold of what is and what can be, what will be, with the help of God. And we are called to step out – out of our comfort zones, out of our despair, tomake that pilgrimage to where the holy will be revealed, will be born, in us, through us. God in our world. Emmanuel. When all people will see it together.
“See” the prophet says, three times so we don’t miss it “see” the Lord God comes – “He will feed his flock like a shepherd, he will gather the lambs in his arms, and gently lead the mother sheep.” As we travel the road, making it as we go, God goes with us. Do not be afraid. Here is your God. Amen.

Advent 7 -- Trust Love

“Have enough courage to trust love one more time and always one more time.”

~Maya Angelou

 

There are many words that describe this time of year. Hope. Peace. Joy. Generosity. However, they can all be summed into one simple word. Love. Yes, simply stated, Advent is about love. It’s about God’s love for humanity; our love for each other, and our heightened sense of the simple yet powerful expressions of love that surround us daily.

The above quote is by one my favorite people, truly the matriarch of 20^th century American literature, the incomparable Maya Angelou. In my opinion it’s one of her most endearing quotes, likely because it’s more than just a quote. In many ways it’s a challenge and an admonition. Maya insists that we love…that we trust its ability to fix a broken relationship, to mend a broken heart and even heal a broken nation. Yet, we must trust it.  We mustn’t give up on it but rather we must reach out in faith; we must fall on our knees with our faces to the rising sun, hearts filled with expectant hope!

Dear heart, it’s Advent and Christ cometh! Christ is God and God is love, therefore love cometh! Love cometh, so let go of the past, forgive past mistakes, call that family member, write that check, say I’m sorry, express your thanks, become a new creature in Christ. Be healed. Be delivered. Be set free in God’s glorious grace. Simply let love do it’s job. Because in the end, as a wise woman once said…

 

“Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.”

 

----  Rev. Ray Jordan

Advent 6 - Walking in the Dark

“Even the darkness is not dark to you;
the night is as bright as the day,
for darkness is as light to you.” – Psalm 139:12

Advent is a time to walk through the darkness, the wilderness, the desert – as we wait for the birth of the holy. For me, the events of the news of the past couple of weeks have left me feeling battered and heart sore by the events of the past couple of weeks. It seems very much a dark, desert time in our world. But I have been convinced of the need not to rush to jump and turn on all the lights. I think the events of Ferguson, and Cleveland, and Staten Island have many things to teach us – if we are willing to set aside our discomfort, our anger, and our fear – and explore for a while in this wilderness. And remember that God is with us just as much in the darkness as in the light.

I think one of the things Advent teaches is that we have something to learn from the dark. After all, the lectionary readings for the first Sunday of Advent always bring us back to apocalypse -- so we might experience it in all it's dark brokenness, be able to recognize it, but also to learn it's landscape and how God is working in it and through it. "Apocalypse" means "revelation" -- and so we are reminded of what can be revealed to us not just by the light, but by the dark. So if we take the time, do the work of Advent, the waiting and preparation, then we can explore the dark, and ourselves in the dark; learn it’s shape, it’s dimensions, its revelations, and use that learning in a way that opens us up for the true light to be born in us and our world.

I am encouraged in this by the words of Barbara Brown Taylor in her book,  Learning to Walk in the Dark, which echoes my experience:

“Learning to walk in the dark is an especially valuable skill in times like these – or maybe I should say remembering how to walk in the dark, since people of faith have deep pockets of wisdom about how to live through long nights in the wilderness. . . .

            The remembering takes time, like straightening a bent leg and waiting for the feeling to return. This cannot be rushed, no matter how badly you want to get where you are going. Step 1 of learning to walk in the dark is to give up running the show. Next you sign the waiver that allows you to bump into some things that may frighten you at first. Finally you ask darkness to teach you what you need to know. . . .

            Meanwhile, here is some good news you can use:  even when light fades and darkness falls – as it dos every single day, in every single life – God does not turn the world over to some other deity. Even when you cannot see where you are going and no one answers when you call, this is not sufficient proof that you are alone. There is a divine presence that transcends all your ideas about it, along with all your language for calling it to your aid, which is not above using darkness as a wrecking ball that brings all your false gods down – but whether you decide to trust the witness of those who have gone before you, or you decide to do whatever it takes to become a witness yourself, here is the testimony of faith:  darkness is not dark to God, the night is as bright as day.” 

Advent 5 - Miraculous Births

      Christmas is clearly the celebration of the birth of Christ, and Advent is the expectancy of that birth. However, if you think the birth of Jesus was one heck of story, you should hear the story of the birth of my youngest child, Joshua.
      After returning early from a shopping trip to Dallas (we were living in Arkansas at the time), my former spouse, who was 8 months pregnant, complained of "feeling funny" and eventually of pain. After she suggested that she go to the ER (and after scolding me for asking if she’d like me to accompany her….I know...dumb question, right?) we found ourselves in the hospital for three days as she battled excruciating abdominal pain.
       Finally, the doctors discovered that she was suffering from a ruptured appendix and decided that emergency surgery was necessary. Terrified and anxious, we signed a medical release and prayed for the welfare of both she and our unborn Joshua. The surgery was a success (the doctors realized my wife’s body had created an enclave around her appendix, holding the poison and preventing it from further entering her or the baby’s system….Praise be to God!). However, the story doesn’t end here.
       After the surgery, my wife lingered in unbelievable pain as she suffered not only the discomfort from surgery but also labor contractions that continued throughout the night. Consequently, she was airlifted to the nearest neonatal unit (3 hours away) where, after another day of labor, she delivered Joshua, WITHOUT an epidural.
       To make a long story short, my wife was allowed to come home while a premature Joshua stayed in the hospital. Eventually, however, my wife was re-hospitalized because of infection (due to the enclave that saved our child’s life). So, I found myself with a wife in a hospital 1 hour to the south, a premature newborn in a hospital 3 hours to the north, and both a 3 and 4 year old at home with me as I juggled pastoring a church, teaching middle school and completing graduate school. Needless to say, there wasn’t a boring moment.
       However, after all of the dust was settled, my wife came home….Joshua came home…. I finished graduate school, we were all well taken care of due to the kindness of friends and family and God’s grace was sufficient through it all. So, hopefully you understand that when I think of the stories of miraculous births, and the promise that new life brings, I can’t help but think of Jesus, but also my little Joshua. His infectious smile, super tight hugs and silly antics make me proud to be his dad. And when I look into his eyes, I truly believe that the legacy of the Christ child lives on and that just maybe there’s hope for us humans after all.



-- Rev. Ray Jordan

Advent 4 - Holy Darkness

                                                     Photo from Colorado Clouds Blog*


A beautiful hymn for your Advent Meditation: "Holy Darkness" by Dan Schutte

*http://coclouds.com/326/night/2011-11-08/

Advent 3 - Waiting Time

          I was talking last night with someone about how my family never marked Advent. No Advent candles in my home. We didn’t talk about it in Sunday school. And if they did Advent candles in church worship I didn’t notice – I was only in worship Christmas Eve anyway. Thinking back now, I vaguely remember my grandmother giving me a card Advent calendar once or twice on Thanksgiving, but I don’t think I opened the windows one by one. I probably opened one or two – then forgot about it and opened them all on Christmas. 

            And because Advent wasn't something I learned about as a child, I didn't follow any Advent traditions with my daughter when she was small. And now I wish I had. It was a missed opportunity for both her and us. 

            I remember seeing somewhere the thought that we don’t have a “War on Christmas” as some would suggest – but a “War on Advent.” After all, we’ve been doing “Christmas” since before Thanksgiving. So instead of a time of preparation and anticipation, we’re almost sick of Christmas by the time it comes.

            It’s easy to make comments about ours being a culture of instant gratification, but I wonder if there isn’t something else going on. Waiting can be a kind of happy anticipation – like the feeling when you smell something good cooking, and your mouth begins to water, and you look forward to the wonderful treat coming your way. Waiting can also be boring – like waiting for a plane that’s been delayed, and delayed and delayed. And I was recently reminded that waiting can also be painful – like waiting for your body to heal after surgery or a bad accident. Or waiting to find a job. And waiting can go one for a long, long time -- or what feels like a long time.

          In Advent we talk about waiting in the dark for the light of the world to come. But we forget that something happens to put us in the darkness in the first place. And often that thing is painful. Perhaps we leap happily into the pre-Christmas “Christmas” because we want to forget about that, or we don’t want to be reminded of waiting for the pain to go away, for things to get better. But those boring and painful waiting times are a part of life. And so it seems to me that Advent is designed to help us learn, deep inside, that even in the times of deepest night, night that stretches on and on, new life and light will come and shine. Advent teaches us how to wait, for a long time – in hope. 
          How are you observing Advent this year? What are you doing to mark the time - to learn to wait in hope? 

Advent 2 - Darkness is Real, Darkness is Holy

The darkness is real
The darkness is holy
it slows us down
makes us pay attention
look carefully
as we might not in
the bright light of day.
What does it have to teach me?
What does it have to teach us?
I have come to believe
that depression
isn’t always a defect
at least not from a spiritual perspective.
Holy discomfort.
Something needs to change
Something needs to
“make it better.”
So too often we rush
to do something
anything
different
hoping that will be the answer
that will be the “one”
when instead
we need to sit
for a while
in the dark
with the
One
and wait
pregnant with hope
and trust
that the way forward
will be revealed.

The darkness is real.
The darkness is holy.
Don’t rush to turn on the lights.
Sometimes
one candle
is enough.