Axis of Evil Comedy Tour

How about something Un-Christmassy today -- yet somehow germane.  

Yes, I'm talking about the "Axis of Evil Comedy Tour," a comedy trio (sometimes quartet) of Iranian-American Maz Jobrani, Palestinian-American Aaron Kader, and Egyptian-American Ahmed Ahmed.  The sometimes fourth member is also Palestinian-American.

I caught a You-Tube spot of one of their comedy routines and found myself looking for another, and another, and another.  Before I knew it, my morning meditation time had been consumed by stand-up comedy jokes about Iran's president and our president, airport security, and Osama bin Laden as champion hide-and-seek player.

My favorite skit was from Maz Jobrani, who mentioned that he had read about an Al Quaida application.  He wondered what would such an application look like:

Q:  What do you want to do as a member of al Quaida?

A: I want to blow myself up.

Q:  What are goals?

A:  I want to blow myself up.

Q: Do you have any references.

A: They blew themselves up.

Aside from poking fun at pretty much everyone -- themselves, their cultural baggage, the US and its cultural baggage -- they also deliver a real and sobering message.  All people are valuable and basically the same.  Most Muslims are just plain folks with a desire mostly to live a quiet and peaceful life.  They recount stories of spending religious holidays with Jewish and Christian friends -- and all the misadventures that can come from ignorance of each other's customs.  

This troupe -- who takes its name from President Bush's unfortunate State of the Union address in which he named Iran, Iraq and North Korea as the Axis of Evil -- focus on making their very mixed audience laugh together.  They quote a Jewish standup comic who says it's hard to hate someone if you're laughing with them.

The Axis of Evil Comedy Tour does use foul language typical of so many standup routines, so if you see them, be prepared.  On the other hand, I never really found it out of place.  Quite often, the situations they use for their material make me want to expand my vocabulary as well.

If you don't get bugged by colorful language, and if you're open to putting yourself in your neighbor's shoes, go see this group.  Check them out on the web.  You Tube has them, or you can go to their website:  www.axisofevilcomedy.com

A Little Snow Goes a Long Way

We are experiencing an earlier than usual (lately) snow.  Even thought the temperatures are supposed to reach 50 on Sunday (with rain), we've had more snow already than we had last year all through January.

What adds to the interest this year is that we have relatives visiting this Christmas who have never seen snow before.  They are visiting from Mexico City and drove up here from the city in the middle of the northeaster that closed many churches and cut our attendance by 80%.  How they arrived in one piece, I don't know.

One of the fun things about this visit is that we get to see their expressions with every new thing. Ricardo helped me shovel, and he looked like a boy with a new toy.  The kids had a snowball fight with my kids, and they were beaming even as my son whacked Lourdes in the head.  They all shouted in excitement this morning when it actually snowed -- and they could watch it falling!  They held out their hands and looked at it, stared up at the sky and got it in their eyes, held out their tongues to catch it.  I can guess what will be one of their fondest memories of this visit.

But the incident that stands out was two days ago when they were getting in the car to go touring.  Ricardo got into their rental car, stared at the steering wheel for a few moments, then got back out.  He came to the house and got me.  "I can't see out the window," he said.  He stared at it some more.  I nodded.  It was indeed all white.

"What do I do?" he asked.  Then it hit me.  He'd never seen frost before.  I pointed to a little knob on the dashboard and told him to twist it.  "Defrost" engaged.  Then I went to the garage and got out an extra ice scraper.  More fun!  I think when Ricardo goes home, he's going to try to smuggle a snow shovel and ice scraper in his luggage.

It doesn't really take much to renew your awe for the world.  Sometimes all it takes is a little snow.

A Little Snow Goes a Long Way

We are experiencing an earlier than usual (lately) snow.  Even thought the temperatures are supposed to reach 50 on Sunday (with rain), we've had more snow already than we had last year all through January.

What adds to the interest this year is that we have relatives visiting this Christmas who have never seen snow before.  They are visiting from Mexico City and drove up here from the city in the middle of the northeaster that closed many churches and cut our attendance by 80%.  How they arrived in one piece, I don't know.

One of the fun things about this visit is that we get to see their expressions with every new thing. Ricardo helped me shovel, and he looked like a boy with a new toy.  The kids had a snowball fight with my kids, and they were beaming even as my son whacked Lourdes in the head.  They all shouted in excitement this morning when it actually snowed -- and they could watch it falling!  They held out their hands and looked at it, stared up at the sky and got it in their eyes, held out their tongues to catch it.  I can guess what will be one of their fondest memories of this visit.

But the incident that stands out was two days ago when they were getting in the car to go touring.  Ricardo got into their rental car, stared at the steering wheel for a few moments, then got back out.  He came to the house and got me.  "I can't see out the window," he said.  He stared at it some more.  I nodded.  It was indeed all white.

"What do I do?" he asked.  Then it hit me.  He'd never seen frost before.  I pointed to a little knob on the dashboard and told him to twist it.  "Defrost" engaged.  Then I went to the garage and got out an extra ice scraper.  More fun!  I think when Ricardo goes home, he's going to try to smuggle a snow shovel and ice scraper in his luggage.

It doesn't really take much to renew your awe for the world.  Sometimes all it takes is a little snow.

My "I Hate Christmas" List

I don't hate Christmas.  Not really.  Much.

After all, it's the birth of Christ we're celebrating.  God incarnate is always good news.

But there are certain things that drive me crazy in this mixed up season of gifts, carols, pageants and malls.

Here is my list of things I hate about Christmas:

1. BUYING PRESENTS:  I consider myself a fairly giving person, but buying presents is a task I despise.  There's just nothing fun about it.  It's not the crowds that get to me -- I actually enjoy that -- it's trying to figure out what fits a person and being absolutely certain that it'll be the wrong thing.  Then there's the question of who will get a present and who won't (my resources are not unlimited).  In a perfect world, I'd make all the presents to show my deep affection for each recipient -- but I never got past toothpick sculptures in grade school.  Aside from all that, the whole gift-giving thing seems contrived and pointless -- unless you're going to give me gold, frankincense and myrrh.  By the way, I put Christmas Cards in the same category -- mostly because I get mine sent out somewhere around March.
   
2. WRAPPING PRESENTS:  Don't get me started.  If you've ever seen Charlie Brown's kite after an encounter with a tree, you can imagine how the presents I wrap look.  Only with a lot more tape.  I'm convinced this is a plot to put the decoratively challenged in their place.  Not that anyone would know because the next thing I'm bad at is actually getting presents in the mail.  I just sent my sister's gift yesterday -- for Christmas 2006.
3. ENDLESS CHRISTMAS TUNES:  How many times do we have to listen to "Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire"?  Or "Santa Clause is Coming To Town"?  Nearly every radio station that's not designed for teenagers plays these "classics" 24/7.  Again, I suspect a plot.  We'll buy anything just to make it stop!  Worse yet, most of these songs just mention Christmas -- they don't ever talk about Jesus.  They're sort of the secular Christmas variety, which is okay if what you're celebrating is the idea that you can celebrate.  Worse still, I find myself humming these things throughout the day!  Right now, Bing Crosby's "Mele Kalikimaka" is running through my head.  Help!
4. WINTER SONGS IMPERSONATING CHRISTMAS TUNES:  Admit it, you think they're Christmas songs, too.  Think about it:  "Walking in a Winter Wonder Land,"  "Jingle Bells..."  They have nothing -- NOTHING -- to do with Christmas at all -- not even Santa.  It's not their fault, mind you.  They're just tunes celebrating the beautiful winter weather, but they have been found guilty by association with Christmas.  If you don't believe me, just try calling in a request for "Frosty the Snowman," on December 27.
5. SANTA CLAUS:  I bet you do, too.  Who wants to have some guy who can see you when you're sleeping and knows when you're awake AND who's keeping a list and checking it twice.  Sounds like a nightmare version of God.  No wonder the children always cry when you put them on his lap.  Of course, with the energy crisis, we just might want to get some coal in our stockings...
6. SCREAMING CHILDREN ON SANTA'S LAP:  I'm guilty.  When my kids were young, I tried to get at least one shot of each on Santa's lap.  My lasting memory is the picture I paid $5.00 for.  It shows my child struggling to escape Santa's clutches.  It's not just my kids, either.  Two days ago I was in the mall and saw a young mother coaxing her screaming toddler onto Santa's lap.  I felt for everyone involved but at the same time had to ask, "Why do we do this to our children and ourselves?"  If it's merely to employ Department Store Santas, I'm sure we can find more meaningful work.  About an hour after seeing that screaming child, I saw Santa enjoying some down time.  He was reading, "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance."
7. SNOW AT ALL THE WRONG TIMES:  Yes, I love snow.  But it can be a good thing gone wrong.  Like, when it snows all day SUNDAY.  Don't they know that this messes up church?  That's a bad thing for a pastor!  It's supposed to snow on Friday night.  That keeps kids from going out partying too much and makes for a quiet Saturday.  But not Sunday!  Not only does it mess with attendance, but it interferes with things like Pageant rehearsal.  About the only time worse than Sunday for snow is Monday morning.  There's nothing like hearing that you have yet another full day with the kids.
8. REHEARSALS:  It's hard enough trying to figure out which kids will be in the pageant.  Somebody will always be miffed that they did not get the lead role even if they don't know how to read.  What's worse is trying to schedule rehearsals.  Kids are just too busy!  Even rehearsals after church cut into their other activities.  It's like herding cats.  So, by the end of it all most of the kids have an idea what they're supposed to do but really can't remember their lines.  Yes, it all works out somehow, but I keep losing hair over it.    Then you get into other scheduling issues, like trying to find servers for the Christmas Eve services.  Try to fit in a rehearsal for the big services, and just wait to hear the howls.
9. THE SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS:  Bah humbug!  What spirit of Christmas?  What does that even mean?  I am having a hard time forgiving Dickens for this phenomenon.  I mean really, what is the Christmas Spirit?  Giving presents?  See number 1 of my list.  Is it giving to the less fortunate?  Why?  Why should that be the Christmas Spirit?  I thought that was the Spirit of God.  I thought that was something Christians were meant to do all the time.  I suspect the Spirit of Christmas is merely a way of saying, "If you act nice during this one season, you're allowed to be a mean jerk the rest of the time."
10. "KEEP CHRIST IN CHRISTMAS" CAMPAIGNS:  These annoy me.  Because in the end, those of us who worship God in Christ will always keep Christ in our hearts regardless of what the rest of society does.  And harping on the rest just makes us sound like angry busy-bodies rather than people filled with God's love.  Rather than nagging others that they should say "Merry Christmas" instead of "Happy Holidays," it would be better if they simply praised God for the blessing of the Incarnation.  

That's my list.  There are a lot of other things I don't like about Christmas, but if I stated them all, you'd just think I was an angry nag.  And really, I love a lot about this time of year.  But don't expect a gift from me.

What Do You See? -- a sermon

The title is "What do you see?" but it should be, "What do you seek?"  What did you come here to see?  What is it that you are looking for?

That's the question that Jesus put before all his listeners.  John the Baptist had sent some of his disciples to Jesus to ask if he was indeed the Messiah.  I mentioned last week that John had not exactly expected a Messiah who would heal the sick and care for the poor.  He had expected a military hero -- Hercules for Israel.  

Instead, he got a man who told us to turn the other cheek, who ate with sinners, who told us not to judge and to look at the log in our own eyes before we talk about the speck in another's.  What kind of Messiah is that?

But it's what Jesus said after those disciples went away that is interesting.  Jesus addresses those who remain and says, "What did you go out into the wilderness to see? A reed shaken by the wind? What then did you go out to see? Someone dressed in soft robes?  Look, those who wear soft robes are in royal palaces.  What then did you go out to see?"

Three times he asks.  You know three is important in scripture.  Think about Peter, who denies Christ three times.  Or Jesus when he asks Peter later if he loves him -- three times.  Or the number of temptations Jesus faces at the beginning of his ministry.  The number three means, "Pay attention, this is important."

But what could be important about that question?  First a little context.  There are reeds along the Jordan.  They are, in fact, a symbol of the region and are even found on some coins of the time.  People took some pride in them, and one implication is that city folks came out to get away from things and enjoy the reed-lined banks.  So here Jesus asks the crowd if they are simply on an outing to enjoy the countryside.  

When he asks about seeing folks dressed in soft robes, that also has logic -- because there were palaces along the Jordan -- not much by our standards perhaps, but pretty nice for the day.  They were places where the rich could retreat from the messiness of the city.  It was in those palaces that normal folks could get a glimpse of the elite.  (Tell me we don't do that in modern times.  Tours of celebrities homes are still big business in Hollywood).  So, Jesus asks, if they are out here for idle curiosity?

Then he asks the big question: Are you out here to see a prophet? Are you here to find God's path?  Are you out here to grow closer to God?  

The answer, of course, is yes.  But Jesus doesn't stop there.  He says, John is a prophet.  A great prophet.  The best.  So, if all you want to see is a prophet, then you've done it!

Or, he says, do you want more?  Because a prophet can only do so much.  The prophets could only see so far, and not even John could recognize how God was at work in Jesus.  Now, Jesus tells the crowd, there is a new thing, something so fantastic that it leaves the greatest of the prophets behind.

That great thing is the invitation to become part of the Kingdom of God.  The least in the Kingdom of Heaven is greater than John.  Because John is a figure of transition from an old understanding of who God is to the Kingdom Understanding.  John sees the new way, John herald's the new life, but like Moses he does not live to enter it. 

Jesus asks those who once followed John what the are looking for.  He tells them bluntly that, with him, they will no more find a pleasant diversion than they did with John.  But if they stick with him, they will find something beyond even John's imagination. 

So the question is, "What do you come out to see?  What do you seek?"  Only you can answer that one.  

Take Me Hunting

Someone take me hunting, please.  I'm serious.

I am a non-hunter -- never been out with a gun trying to bring down a deer or a duck.  Not once.  My dad used to hunt before all of us kids were born (I was number 5), but he packed the guns away before I could even walk.  

Why this interest in hunting?  Well, first you should understand that I am not a huge lover of guns.  I have not yet found a war in my lifetime that I believe was justifiable, nor do I condone householders keeping loaded handguns in their homes.  The person who uses a gun against another person sacrifices a huge chunk of their soul.

I also don't really relish the idea of killing another animal.  They don't gross me out -- I've been with too many dead people in my life to be bothered by that -- but I don't see these magnificent animals as a sport.  

However, I do see them as food.  We humans are designed as omnivores -- designed to live on a varied diet that can include a wide array of other animals.  Yes, we can live solely off of plants, and I applaud all those who choose to do so.  I don't.  I figure, as long as we're eating meat and fish in moderation, it's how we're made.  Having said that, I'll put in my plug for much more moderate use of meats -- Americans really do overdo it to the detriment of themselves and everyone else.

But I digress.  I have thought about it and decided that, as long as I'm going to eat meat, I should at least know the animal I'm eating.  I should be able to look at my food and say, "This was once a living being," rather than to pick up a slab of cellophane-wrapped food product at the grocery store.

I like the idea of a locally grown, free and wild animal rather than the over-crowded and improperly fed assembly line animals I usually eat.   

For some time, I've believed hunting your own food is a fine thing to do; it's just that I don't know many hunters, nor do I ever seem to find the time or money to go out and do it.  Like gardeners and fishermen, I'm glad the world has them, but I've never really wanted to join their ranks.

Yet, now may be the time.  I would like my kids to understand what it takes to feed them.  Not the money but the life.  I would like them to experience bringing home food that they didn't buy.  

Not that I'm entirely comfortable with the idea.  I used to carry the image of those buffalo hunters who blasted the bison away into near extinction for sport -- and I hated that idea of hunting.  I also believe that if everyone went out and hunted, we'd have a problem.  But with the number who do, and with the agri-business as it is, now might be my time.

A Different Hope

Advent is all about waiting -- but it’s how we wait that matters.  For us, we wait in HOPE.  

Only problem is, hope is a slippery word.  What do we hope for and what does it look like?  Do we hope that things will go exactly as WE plan?  Or do we hope that God’s will will be done?  Do we hope that OUR vision of how things should be takes place or do we open ourselves to God’s infinite mystery?

Yesterday, we all heard the news that the diocese of San Joaquin, California voted to leave the Episcopal Church and join forces with the Church in the Southern Cone.  Now, I’ve been hoping -- like Paul in today’s epistle to the Romans, that we might “live in harmony with one another.”

Doesn’t seem like that will happen.  Some places have chosen disharmony and discord.  Perhaps we are better off if they go.  At least once the ties are cut, we can finally leave their divisiveness behind us and focus once again on Christ’s call to us.

It’s hard to say -- and maybe that’s the point.  We sit here waiting for Christ, waiting in hope, and we’re not sure what it is we’re waiting for.

That’s so classic to our faith.  Look at poor Isaiah.  He has this beautiful passage about the lion and the lamb lying down together -- and apparently the lamb has not fainted in fear -- yet all that lovely image is based on utter destruction before.

Notice that little part about a shoot rising out of the stump of Jesse?  Just before this, Isaiah talks about the tree of Jesse -- Israel -- being utterly destroyed for its wickedness.  Then he assumes God will raise a new, more faithful, more just people out of the burnt out stump of Jesse.  He imagines and hopes for an ideal world.

A world where all the wicked get killed, and finally all the poor will get their due.  

Not so different from John the Baptist, really.  He preaches to the crowds about “the wrath to come” and about the chaff which the coming Christ will burn with unquenchable fire.  

Isaiah and John both understand God’s concern for the poor and desire for us to act justly.  They both understand that ancestry -- being children of Abraham or belonging to Jesse -- give us NO privilege in God’s eyes.  It is our own hearts that God looks into.

Yet, for both Isaiah and John, what they hope for, what they envision for the future is never realized.  It turns out, it’s not even what God has in mind.  Holy men, they were, yet they missed the mark.

Because when Jesus comes, he is a sort of Messiah that John cannot even recognize.  He is so confused by Jesus -- after Jesus has been preaching for a while -- that John sends some of his own disciples to Jesus and says, “Are you the one we’ve been waiting for, or should we wait for another?”

While John and Isaiah are looking for destruction of the unjust, Jesus turns out to be the type who goes to dinner with them.  Yes, he sends out warnings to the rich that they are to repent, but he is not the warrior that any of the prophets (including John) expects.  He does not come riding in on his white horse and set everything straight.

He comes in a modest birth and travels mostly on foot, barely covering the distance of Dutchess County.  He heals people and forgives them.  He dies on a cross.

This is not what they hoped for. 

But God hopes for something different.

Reconciliation, love, forgiveness.  

I confess, when I heard the news that San Joaquin had left, part of me said, “Good riddance to bad rubbish.”  But part of me grieved. And I asked myself, “What exactly should we be hoping for in a situation like this?”

But John and Paul and Isaiah show us that trying to figure out exactly what to hope for is pretty difficult.  We get it wrong as much as anything.

Better, perhaps, that we should remember that prayer Jesus offered once when he was hoping for a different outcome than he got.  “Not my will but yours.”

So, let’s wait in hope for Christ, not knowing what will come but know that the one we wait for will act in loving grace.  Amen.

Crisis of the Crèche

The crisis has been averted. Whew!

Yes, I'm referring to the annual crisis of the Crèche, you know the Nativity scene that adorns the town hall. In most small towns (and some not so small), good-hearted citizens put up the manger scene for all the town to admire.

This year in our town, an organization wrote a complaint to the town board and based it on the constitutional separation of church and state. The group is a Jewish organization, and to be fair to them, they opposed erecting a large menorah on public ground in the town next door. You should have seen the flurry of bitter responses in the paper. "They're taking away Christmas!" "What is the world coming to?" "We're a Christian country, dammit!"

Today it was revealed that the organization withdrew its complaint because they did not want to sow dissension in the town. Again, I say, "Whew!"

Of course, this crisis comes up every year. Somebody who is not Christian gets upset because they see the annual decoration as official recognition of Christianity as our religion. I secretly suspect that some of the complaints come from people who just like to complain, but others are sincere.

Our clergy bible study discussed this issue, and we all came to the same conclusion: Either open the public grounds for displays of any group that is celebrating some sort of "festival" – and yes, that would include those with abhorrent ideologies like the KKK – or skip the displays altogether. Constitutionally, I don't see any alternative.

But as a pastor, I say to the outrages masses of the town, "Get a life." Those who scream that our religion is under attack because somebody doesn't want a crèche in front of town hall (or doesn't want to say "under God" in the Pledge of Allegiance or begin school with an official prayer) must have a pretty weak faith. Who cares if we have a crèche on public grounds? Christianity went its first 1200 years celebrating Christ without a single nativity set. The Feast of the Incarnation is all about Jesus becoming one of us, not about whose plastic manger scene can light up the village.

We don't need the manger to celebrate the one born in it. If we depend on the symbols instead of the faith itself, we are missing the point. If we say our faith is "taken away" because the symbols are, then I believe we are guilty of idolatry.

The Crèche is a fine reminder of God humility in sending his Son to be one of us. It is not the event itself, however.

So, I don't mind seeing the nativity scene at town hall. And I wouldn't mind if it wasn't there. As long as Christ himself is always with us.

Losing the War

Good News!  Iran is still a threat!  Despite the recent National Intelligence Report on Iran which stated Iran had no nuclear program and would be years away from anything even if they started today, President Bush still asserts they are trying to cause World War III.  What the report really confirmed was what many already knew.  President Bush is seeking a confrontation with that country regardless of the evidence.  

That's how he works.  He decides what he wants and then bends the evidence in that direction.  When he first became president, he went straight for a tax cut that would positively affect only the richest.  The economy was strong, he said, therefore the tax cut is merited.  When the economy started heading south, he argued that we needed the same tax cut to spark the economy.  

Same thing happened with Iraq.  Bush had decided long ago that he wanted war with Iraq.  Regardless of the evidence, regardless of the information gathered by allies, he plowed ahead with relentless arguments that we needed to invade.  WMD was the word of the day -- yet there were none, just as the UN had stated in its intelligence reports.  We don't hear about WMD anymore because we have the war he wanted.

And we will stay there until well after President Bush is gone because he wanted it that way.  He tells us we cannot bow to those who want us to "surrender" and who "bow to defeat."  We're going to win, he says.

We have already lost.

We lost this war the minute we invaded a country that had no plans to do us harm.  We lost the moment we threw out our moral compass and decided torture was okay.  We lost when we decided that killing thousands upon thousands of innocent civilians was worth whatever amorphous goal we were seeking in Iraq.  We lost when we decided that sinking a country into more than five years of chaos and misery was all right because we weren't going to be affected. We were going to be patriotic and go shopping.

There is nothing we can do to win this war because the war itself is a tremendous defeat for us.  It's something we did to ourselves -- Saddam Hussein could not have hurt us more, even if he'd had WMD.  

As Christians, we have to approach the world with the understanding that ALL people are our brothers and sisters.  God made them all, and when we look out only for our interests -- or worse yet, only for our economic interests -- we lose.  My belief that this war is a mixture of personal vendetta and economic interest for a lot of corporations owned by family friends only intensifies the depth of this loss.  Fought for the wrong reasons, it has permanently harmed millions of Iraqis who thought we were friends, and it has permanently harmed us.

Even if we can salvage the country of Iraq (as is now our moral obligation, at least to the degree that the Iraqi people ask it of us), even if we can salvage our own reputation and standing in the world (after a new president arrives, because no one will listen to Bush), it is impossible to call what we did a victory.  It's only surviving a disaster of our own making.

Now, President Bush wants to incite another conflict even after his own intelligence says it is not warranted.  Maybe he's like a gambler who keeps losing at the slots but keeps plunking his coins in because he just knows he's going to win big the next time.  He'll keep going at it until he's lost everything he's got.  Only, when you're President of the United States, there's a hell of a lot to lose.

Waiting - A Sermon

  Today we enter the season of Advent which means, as we all know, waiting.

Waiting waiting in line at the mall.  Or perhaps, waiting for those endless Christmas tunes on the radio to finally stop. Or even, for some of the kids, waiting to hear Santa’s reindeer on the roof.

Pretty much captures the spirit, doesn’t it.  

Fortunately for us who celebrate the other Christmas and actually know the word Advent, we are waiting for something else.  Something infinitely less stressful and annoying.  

We are waiting for Christ.  As you probably know, we’re waiting NOT only for the Baby Jesus to be born.  Don’t get me wrong.  It’s important that Jesus came and lived AS ONE OF US.  That’s a huge part of our belief as Christians -- God sent his only Son to be one of us -- to know us intimately.  It’s irrelevant whether he was born in a stable on a December night, but it’s very important that he was born.

But we Christians are waiting for more than that.  We’re waiting for Christ to come again.  And it could be a very long wait.

You may have wondered why we bundle these two sorts of waiting into one season -- waiting for Christ’s birth is easy to grasp.  We know when it’s going to happen because it does every year.  You can put out the creche, and pretty much figure that on December 25 there’s going to be a baby in it.

But the problem with that is, we tend to get this baby image stuck in our heads.  If you ever saw that movie, “Taledega Nights,” you know what I mean.  There the famous race car driver Ricky Bobby is, praying at the family table.  And who does he pray to?  “Baby Jesus.”  Dear sweet baby Jesus.  He goes on and on about how sweet and innocent Baby Jesus is that his wife finally yells at him that Jesus grew up.  But Ricky says, “I like the baby.”

  Well, Christ is so much more.  Christ is God incarnate, not sweet and helpless.  Kind and loving, yes, but no longer lying in a manger. 

Advent tells us that Christ’s first wondrous coming to dwell among us is nothing compared to what we can expect.  The scriptures all speak to that time that is out in the future but already on its way.

Isaiah -- who is in the middle of warning the kingdom of its imminent demise -- takes an early break to give the people a vision of what can be.  A vision of that longed for future when none of us will learn war anymore.  Paul, in his letter to the Romans, is vague about what it will be like when Christ comes again, but he says, “Salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed.   The night is far gone, the dawn is near.”  He’s waiting, and he knows that what we’re waiting for will be good.

The vision Jesus himself gives us is a little more sobering.  The coming of the Son of Man will be at a time when nobody expects; and according to Matthew, it’ll be almost like those Left Behind books.  One will be left while another will be taken.   What is in store for either is left to the imagination.

We’ll just have to wait and see.

But we believe that when Jesus returns to earth, whatever it looks like, it will a return filled with love, mercy and compassion.  Jesus tells us we won’t know when that second coming arrives until it’s here.  But he tells us to be ready nonetheless -- to live in a state of readiness.

Which is to say, to live a life of loving, caring for, and reconciliation with all people at all times.  

The coming of Christ, the longed-for Kingdom of God where people finally will beat their swords into plowshares and when we will see Christ face to face -- that coming which we’re waiting for seems impossibly far away.  Then again, when you’re a small child, waiting for Christmas morning is an impossibly long wait, too.  But just wait; this is better.  Amen.

Need a Pageant?

Hey,

Anybody need a pageant?  We Episcopalians -- along with most other denominations -- love our pageants.  Of course, being Episcopalians, we don't do CHRISTMAS pageants.  We do EPIPHANY pageants.

Why?

Because all those pageants have the Wise Men in them, and the Wise Men didn't show up until Epiphany.  Get it?

Well, at our church, I've been the one who writes most of the pageants.  Too cheap to buy a canned one, I suppose.  Besides, I enjoy it.  I've written a new one for this year -- it's world premier will be -- you guessed it -- on Epiphany.

But if you need a pageant for your church, light-hearted and fun for the kids, feel free to take one of my older ones.  It's called "No Sleep At The Inn" and views the comings and goings on that Holy Night from the point of view of the irritable and sleep-deprived innkeeper.

You can view the pageant at my website:  www.charleskramerwrites.com  

If you choose to use it, just do me a favor.  Make note that it's from me, and let me know.

Enjoy!

The Cinnamon Bear

Yesterday we began our annual pre-Christmas tradition.  No, it's not the Advent wreath (though we'll light it up on Sunday).

No, it's not the Christmas tree (next week).

No, it's not even heading out to the mall.

Yesterday, we started listening to "The Cinnamon Bear."  It is one of our simple and secular Christmastime pleasures.

If you've never heard of this delightful little radio play, it's about two children (Jimmy and Judy), who are in search of their stolen silver star for their Christmas tree.  They meet a tiny stuffed bear who is alive and transports them to the magical "Maybe Land" and finally the North Pole to find the star.

This radio play was first aired in 1937 and has been playing more or less continuously on some radio station or other since then.  It comes in twenty-six  episodes (roughly 10 minutes each) that run every day from November 29 through Christmas Eve.  Wikipedia says it's most popular in the northwest, but I remember listening to it when I was a child -- and my parents listened to it when they were children.

A few years ago, my parents sent us the entire show on cassettes.  Now we listen to it on CDs.  Our older son is "too old," these days (he'll get over it), but our youngest is still into it, and as he sat excitedly with me listening to those dated voices, it felt like a blessed moment.

Now, as I said, this is totally secular and in general doesn't give a person any sense of what Christmas is about (don't you hate those shows that talk about the "Christmas Spirit" when what they mean is giving presents?).

But then, this country really celebrates two Christmases, doesn't it?  We have Christian Christmas where we celebrate the birth of Christ.  It's a beautiful feast in which we remember one crucial fact about Jesus -- he was incarnate -- one of us.  Which is probably why he understands us so well and loves us warts and all.

The OTHER Christmas is probably older.  It's that winter festival that attempts to bring some color and life into the otherwise drab winter months.  The OTHER Christmas was unknown in many warmer countries that simply didn't need it, but in colder lands....  Anyway, it's alive and well today.  The primary difference is that we have turned even that secular holiday into a more secular time by focussing on shopping and gift giving.  

But I digress.  If you think this sounds interesting, you can Google it and you'll find sites where you can listen to the episodes.  If you want to listen to episodes, try http://www.cinnamonbear.co.uk   or  http://www.radiolover.com/pages/cinnamonbear.htm . 

Have fun and Happy Advent!

King’s Cross – A Sermon

    The last line we read in Paul's letter to the Colossians says it all. "For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of the cross."

    God's fullness was in Christ.

    Through Christ, God reconciles all things to himself.

    Whether on earth or in heaven.

    Through the blood of the cross.

    Sometimes, when we go through events like the death of a loved one, we think maybe the world is caving in on us. The idea of somebody we love not being here anymore seems incomprehensible. It seems life can't go on. All time telescopes in on us so that nothing else exists, and what we do see is not good.

    Most of us have gone through this. Some quite recently. And we ask ourselves, why would God allow such a thing? Why do good people die? Why do good people suffer?

    Remember the criminal hanging on the cross who said to Jesus, "Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!"? In a way, he was asking the same thing. He was crying out what so many of us want to know: If you're God, why do you allow us to die? Do something about it.

    What Jesus did from that cross was say, "Today you will be with me in paradise." Granted, he said it to the other criminal, but he left open the possibility for both. And then -- the Son of God in whom dwells the fullness of God -- died.

    When we go through traumatic times, all faith can fly out the window because we're so caught up in the pain. Fortunately, that's usually a temporary effect. We make it through that pain and understand that God has always been with us and always will be. We understand that we all have a finite amount of time on this earth but an endless life in heaven. And that Christ is our king wherever we are.

    If God's fullness is in Christ, and if Christ is king, and if Christ reconciles all things to God: What does that tell us, especially when we are in the valley of the shadow of death?

    Unlike other kings, who rule with pomp and power and often a show of military might -- this king leads his people from a cross. He leads us not to power over others but power to open ourselves to others. He shows us that the greatest victory is not over others but in reconciling with others. He guides us through the pain that is inevitable in life -- never around it -- and brings us home to the kingdom that has no end.

    These are all things you know already. God loves us. God is with us in good and bad but will not make bad things stop and will not keep us on this earth forever. God reconciles us to himself. God leads us -- through Christ.

    It's just that sometimes we need reminding because life can seem so overwhelming.

    It is our belief and our joy that life will never overwhelm Christ our King.

How Episcopalians Made Thanksgiving- A Community Sermon

I’d like to welcome you to St. James’ again.  It’s a joy when brothers and sisters worship together, and I have enjoyed the love and friendship of so many brothers and sisters from the many churches in Hyde Park for many years now.  Truly something to give thanks for.

Yet, I think it’s also appropriate to celebrate Thanksgiving in an Episcopal Church because, as we all know, it was the Episcopalians who are are responsible for it.

Now, I bet you’re thinking it was those Pilgrims, aren’t you?  Or maybe you heard rumors about Abraham Lincoln creating the official holiday by proclamation in 1863.  Well, there’s a little bit of truth to it.  But the REAL creator of this annual event called Thanksgiving is that great Episcopalian and Hyde Parker -- FDR.

That’s right.  Up till 1941, Thanksgiving kind of came and went depending on the whim of the sitting President -- it was a tradition that the President proclaimed the holiday, but not all did.

Fine, you might say, but it was Lincoln who proclaimed the national feast first.  That’s true -- October 3, 1863, not long after the Battle of Gettysburg.  Lincoln called for the Nation to observe a national day of thanks and dedication to caring for the widows and orphans.  But it was a one-shot deal.

Besides, he wasn’t the first president to call for a national day.  Another prominent Episcopalian did it first.  George Washington.  After the Revolution, he called for a day of thanks -- the First Thursday in November.  Again, it was a one-shot deal, and not many presidents followed suit.  But in 1789, the Episcopal Church called upon its members to observe a day of thanks on every first Thursday of November.

Which they did until Lincoln.

Never mind that the Pilgrims really gave heart and soul to their feast after that horrid winter and a successful harvest.  Never mind that the Pilgrims were actually fleeing the oppressive Church of England (which would become the Episcopal Church in this country).  

And never mind that people were observing feasts of Thanksgiving long before there were Pilgrims or the Church of England or even Christians.  

The fact is, we have an inborn need to give thanks.  That’s why you can see similar festivals around the world and throughout time.  

Erntedankfest in Germany, Thesmosphoria in ancient Greece, Cerelia for the ancient Romans, Chusok in Korea, Pongal in South India, and Yam Festival in Ghana. 

We give thanks because sometimes it amazes us that we have enough to eat and a roof over our heads.  We look in awe that we have survived another day despite faminies, floods, wars, and just plain bad luck.  We look around and think, “Only God could have gotten me this far.”  So we give thanks.  (And eat ourselves silly and watch football).

But there’s a catch.  In Abraham Lincoln’s proclmation in 1863, he asked the nation to not only give thanks but to care for the widowed or orphaned.  He called us to not only give thanks but to give.  

Churches and individuals around our community have been doing that with their Thanksgiving baskets to help families eat better -- but also on a daily basis with our own Hyde Park Food Pantry which is staffed by volunteers -- many of whom are probably here tonight. 

Tonight, you’ll have an opportunity to help that food pantry during the offering.  It’s a miracle that we are so blessed as to be able to help.  Give thanks.

And yet, there’s another catch: all the food in the world is not what really feeds us.  

Jesus told the people who went looking for him in the Gospel: “You seek me not because you saw signs but because you ate your fill of the loaves...  Do not labor for food that perishes but for the food which endures to eternal life, which the Son of man will give you...”

Which is to say, We love it when our bellies are full, and we have God to thank for it.  But even more, we have God to thank for feeding our souls.   We can go around like empty shells (okay, so very full shells after tomorrow) -- merely existing.  Or we can allow God’s love to fill us to overflowing.

From that love, Thanks just naturally flows.  So, while we Episcopalians can’t really claim to have started Thanksgiving, we can join with our brothers and sisters throughout the faith and time, and offer our humblest thanks.  Which is a blessing indeed.  Amen.

Missing in Action

Just so you know – I haven't been posting so much because I've had some serious internet problems.

Add to that the fact that I have now acquired an Apple computer – a MacBook – and I'm having lots of fun trying to fit it into what was up till now a Windows world. To be honest, I'm still using Windows for the blog because I haven't got that part figured out yet. But I'm in this for the long haul, so at some point before too long, I will have it all figured out.

 

The End of the World As We Know It – A Sermon

My kids love to listen to music, as most do. And as most parents, I'm interested in what they're listening to. Sometimes we listen together and discuss the songs. One song I've kind of liked because it has a catchy refrain is, "It's the end of the world as we know it," by REM. I know, it's an oldie, but it's getting a lot of air time these days, and my son's friends listen to it.

The other day I listened to it and was taken aback by the lyrics. Not that they are obscene – they're not – but that they make no sense. Here's a sample:

 

The other night I dreamt of knives, continental drift divide. Mountains sit in a line

Leonard Bernstein. Leonid Brezhnev. Lenny Bruce and Lester Bangs.

Birthday party, cheesecake, jelly bean, boom!

You symbiotic, patriotic, slam book neck, right? Right.

 

I turned to my son and said, "It makes no sense."

He said, "Well, duh, Dad. It's the end of the world. It's all chaos."

Chaos.

In reality, that's what we think of when we think of the end of the world – floods, earthquakes, armies of angels descending upon us. With global warming and the middle east and nuclear grade material missing and unaccounted for, it does often feel like the end is near.

On the other hand, most of these things are things that WE do – things that we have some control over and can mitigate at least. They are also things the earth can withstand even if humanity does itself in someday.

But when we think of the end of the world as we know it, most of us don't really want something we can fix. We want the big disaster. We want the chaos. We MUST because every time somebody shows up on television to tell us that Nostradamus has predicted the end of the earth for 2012, we eat it up. We buy the tabloids that tell us the end is near. We heed the words of preachers who give us dates for the apocalypse and ask us to send them the money we're not going to need anyway.

Why do we buzz with excitement for this chaos? Just guessing here, but I'd say it's because people want to feel they're in the middle of a huge thing – they are part of history even if nobody will be around to tell about it. We want to feel important – I've said it before.

It's nothing new. Prophets have been predicting the end of civilization or the end of the world for ever. And our lessons today address those very issues. Not that all ends are considered bad in the bible – or are they the end of life. In the Old Testament reading, there is a definite end to the world as they know it – but the world the prophet sees ending is not so great. In the NEW WORLD coming, the good guys (Israel) will be on top and in peace while the bad guys will be stubble.

It's like the LEFT BEHIND SERIES in reverse: The good stay and the bad are blown away.

On the other hand, the reality Paul was addressing in his letter to the Thessalonians was very different. He was talking about the actual end of the world – Jesus coming to take his elect home and to destroy the rest. But Paul had a problem with a lot of those Thessalonians. They thought, "Hey, if the world's ending anyway, why bother working? Why bother taking care of each other? Why bother helping anyone?" It's like a farmer who was interviewed several years ago and was asked why he used so many harmful chemicals. He said, "It's all going to burn in the second coming anyway, so what does it matter?"

Paul said it mattered a great deal. As long as God keeps us here on this earth, Paul says, we have work to do. Not only do we still need to work to feed ourselves, but we have the work of the Gospel to do. As long as we have one breath in us, we have a ministry to complete. Our lives matter and will continue to matter until either our very last breath or until humanity really does become extinct.

Jesus told his disciples pretty much the same thing. He told them to ignore all those who love to give specific dates about the end of the world or the second coming. They are merely sowing fear and chaos, inciting panic over things about which nobody can do anything. Actually, what he hinted to the disciples was that they would not be around long enough to witness the apocalypse – they would probably all have been killed by then. Yet, in serving the Gospel – in sharing the good news of God's endless love for us – they would find their purpose and their joy.

The reality is, whatever you believe about global warming – and I believe it is real and that we have a responsibility to become better stewards of the earth – we are all probably going to meet our own personal ends before the mass extinction. Either way, however, as long as we are on this earth, we have work to do – love God and love our neighbors, care for each other and for the earth over which God has given us stewardship. It is a lot to do, and no rumors of wars or death can put us off.

But whether we die one at a time or in "the big one," Christ assures us that our end goal is the same – eternal life in God's loving presence. It overcomes fear and chaos. And therein lies our hope and our joy.

The Golden Compass

Once again, I got an e-mail from a parishioner who got an e-mail warning them against the evils of a movie.

I'm glad the parishioner sent me the note because when you have a spiritual question, you need someone to turn to. And I'm glad this parishioner didn't take the e-mail warning they got at face value.

The movie in question? The Golden Compass. Just like Harry Potter, it has a lot of fundamentalists in an uproar. Unlike Harry Potter, I won't defend it so readily. Not that I would ever tell folks to boycott it. If the movie is anything like the book – and I admit I haven't seen the movie yet, but I have read the books – then it should be a pretty good show. And if the books and movies have anything in common, there probably won't be that much theologically objectionable or significant in this movie. It's just an adventure story.

Having said that, the entire series (three books – who knows what sequence of movies), does feature the death of God – or really a god pretending to be the real God – as a focal point. And a pretty weak one, at that. Now, it's been several years since I've read the books at the request of one of our youth group kids, but it seems the story of a brave young girl fighting against evil forces culminates in her finding a pathetic God imprisoned and dying.

This is really poor theology, if you could even call it theology, and it became instantly clear to me that The Golden Compass trilogy is no threat to anybody's religion.

So why freak out about it? Why send out boycott e-mails? Sometimes, I wonder if these e-mails aren't really advertising ploys by the movie makers themselves because they know that controversy sells.

Or, is it because the people who freak out are really insecure in their faith? Could it be that their rock-solid belief is in reality brittle? Could it be that watching, listening to, or discussing a different point of view is downright threatening? That's a far bigger question to me than whether or not The Golden Compass is the work of Satan.

And if you really want to boycott movies that harm the children of God, you'd do better to go after all those shows that glorify becoming "Number 1" or teach our kids that the only way to do good is by killing the "bad guys." That hardly squares with Jesus' example, teaching, or commandments to his disciples.

So if you like the pseudo-fantasy / pseudo-science fiction type of story, go ahead and watch The Golden Compass. But parents, if you're concerned about your kids getting the wrong message or becoming confused spiritually, do what I'm planning on doing. Watch it with your kids. That way you can ask intelligent questions about the story and help them see your point of view.

We the Saints – A Sermon

The other day on the radio I heard a story about how the Roman Catholic Church is fast-tracking the late Pope John Paul II for sainthood. The story was all about how much it costs to make a saint these days. What with tracking down witnesses of miracles, double checking them, then doing extensive background checks – it's in the millions.

With all due respect to our Roman brothers and sisters, I think they missed the boat on this one. He's already a saint.

A saint is, after all, NOT merely a dead Christian whose life was exemplary and whose death is filled with miracles. A saint is US. WE are the saints. Living and giving to the glory of God right now.

The apostle Paul got this right. He talks of the saints as the people of God who have accepted God's invitation to participate in the Kingdom. That's US. He says the saints live for the praise of God's glory. That's us. He says the saints are marked by the seal of the Holy Spirit. That's us. He says the saints inherit the greatness of God's power. That is us if we want it. WE are the saints of God right here and right now – and no multi-million dollar canonization process will change that.

What DOES change is us. To be a saint, in fact, is to be a changed person. After all, God's power residing in us? It HAS to change a person. And it does.

On All Saints Day which we observe today, we renew our baptismal vows – vows that we have made many times but which remind us – our old lives and homeless individuals is dead. We are born anew into the Kingdom of God. We are now members of the Body of Christ. Our lives matter. We are accepted for the people we are. We are home.

Jesus talked with his disciples about what it meant to be a saint – a changed person. He helped them understand that being part of the kingdom doesn't take away the pains of the world. The poor – quite often remain poor. The hungry still long for food. Those who weep or are abused – still suffer. But the poverty is changed – real as it is, there is a sense of a greater poverty – an awareness that without God's power, all else is meaningless. Our hunger is real, but now the greater hunger is for every Word God speaks to us. Our weeping may continue, but it is no longer hopeless – it is filled with hope.

Jesus told his disciples that we the saints can embrace his power and learn to love enemies, do good to those who hate us, bless those who curse us, pray for those who abuse us, give to those who beg from us. WE are the saints, and we have that power. We are changed.

Yes, on All Saints Day we honor those who have gone before us, those whose lives were good examples of witness, loving and giving self-sacrifice.

But we also remember that All the Saints includes US. Because the Holy Spirit is at work in this place – at work in you and you and you and me.

That's what this whole Stewardship time has been about. It is all about inviting you to be part of this Body of Christ, this Kingdom of Heaven on earth – it is all about inviting you to pick up your mantel of sainthood and run with it. Stewardship is nothing if it is not a chance for each of us to recommit ourselves to being active participants in this wonderful mystery God invites us to.

In that spirit of invitation, I now invite you to take a few minutes and fill out your commitment cards if you haven't done so already. We have plenty of extras in case you forgot yours (people always do). When everyone's done, I will ask you to come forward and place your card in one of these baskets at the altar rail. We will then offer them up to God as pledges of our commitment to live lives in praise of His glory.

A quick word for those of you who have had a crazy week and who in all honesty have not been able to give your stewardship commitment proper thought and prayer. It is better for you to fill out a card now anyway, even if all you write down is “We WILL pledge – working on amount” – than to fill out nothing at all.

But first let us pray over these cards and our own lives of witness.

The Lord be with you. Let us pray: Heavenly Father, you bless us this day with your presence. Fill us now with your Holy Spirit so that we may see you at work in all we do. Bless these commitment cards and bless us who fill them out. Grant us the grace to commit our lives anew to the new lives you offer us as your saints. Amen.

WAIT

My brothers and sisters, we register our commitment to Christ each Sunday when we come forward to receive Communion. His Body and Blood are signs to us that we are active members of his Body. I am asking everyone here to come forward and place their commitment card in the baskets at the front of the church. Your commitment card will be a sign of your choice to accept Christ's invitation. When you are ready, please come forward now.

All Saints

Now that we're all filled with Halloween chocolate and trying to figure out what to do with all the decorations and the rotting pumpkins, let's look at the real reason we even bother having Halloween. No, it's not to sell chocolate.

The reason we have Halloween as it now exists isn't even because of the pagan holiday co-opted by Christians. Well, okay, that does have a lot to do with why it looks the way it does and why it's on that particular day. But still, there was an All Hallows Eve of sorts from the earliest days of Christianity. Because Halloween, or All Hallows Eve, was a vigil held on the eve of a major feast day. The feast day is, of course, All Saints Day (or All Hallows).

The church, in a rather spotty and episodic fashion, started celebrating the saints who went before as early as the third century CE (what we used to call AD, but that's another column). The early Christians felt they should do a couple of things. 1) honor the lives of the many Christians who had died already (Remember that many of the earliest Christians thought the end of the world was fast approaching, so they had to get used to the idea of fellow Christians dying before the big day), especially the martyrs who preferred to die rather than give up sharing their faith. 2) reaffirm the Christian hope in the Communion of Saints and the life everlasting. That is, to remind ourselves that when we die, we are really going to a new and more wonderful life with God. It reaffirms the idea that those in heaven and those still on earth form a continuous family dedicated to glorifying God.

Folks used to celebrate All Saints at various times, depending on where they lived and when. But by the middle ages, it was firmly established at October 31 – and yes, it did co-opt a pagan feast day. Just like Easter and Christmas. And yes, the skeletons and ghosts and witches have the older European traditions to thank for their continued popularity. The 31^st was supposed to be a day when the veil between the living and the dead was at its thinnest, so people dressed in ways to comfort and communicate with dead loved ones – and to keep evil spirits at bay.

Well, I'm celebrating the saints – but I'm still going to eat my kid's chocolate.