Sermon for December 24, 2017 | Advent 4

It’s not the burden that weighs us down …

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” ~ Matthew 11:28-30

There is an old legend about three men and their sacks. Each man had two sacks, one tied in front of his neck and the other tied on his back. When the first man was asked what was in his sacks, he said, "In the sack on my back are all the good things friends and family have done. That way they're hidden from view. In the front sack are all the bad things that have happened to me. Every now and then I stop, open the front sack, take the things out, examine them, and think about them." Because he stopped so much to concentrate on all the bad stuff, he really didn't make much progress in life.

The second man was asked about his sacks. He replied, "In the front sack are all the good things I've done. I like to see them, so quite often I take them out to show them off to people. The sack in the back? I keep all my mistakes in there and carry them all the time. Sure they're heavy. They slow me down, but you know, for some reason I can't put them down."

When the third man was asked about his sacks, he said, "The sack in front is great. I keep all the positive thoughts I have about people, all the blessings I've experienced, all the great things other people have done for me. The weight isn't a problem. The sack is like sails of a ship. It keeps me going forward. The sack on my back is empty. There's nothing in it. I cut a big hole in its bottom. I put all the bad things that I can think about myself or hear about others in there. They go in one end and out the other, so I'm not carrying around any extra weight at all."

What are you carrying in your sacks?

My grandfather used to say, “It’s not the load that weighs you down, but the way you carry it.” That phrase always reminds me of Jesus’ offer to carry our burdens.

It’s easy to feel weighed down during the holidays. Of all the times of the year, this one seems to magnify our emotional burdens by its repeated calls to rejoice! Be happy! Be merry. Those around us seem to enter the season’s festivities wholeheartedly, while some of us wonder why we cannot. While families gather, many feel alone, separated by distance, or estrangement, or loss. We might begin to feel as if our burdens unique. We might be tempted to think we must bear those burdens alone. As we think about sacks that weigh us down, let’s imagine the burdens that different characters in the Christmas story carried. The ways they carried their loads may not be so different from our own.

The first to appear in the Christmas story are the priest Zacharias and his wife, Elizabeth. Elizabeth was old, and far past the age of childbearing. She lived at life’s edges, marginalized by being a priest’s wife but nobody’s mother. She had no place when neighbors congregated and chatted while indulgently watching children play, or when mothers complained about a child’s behavior. Before her stretched an old age unsupported by husband or children. Both faced a life of dwindling possibilities, all bleak. Both wondered what sin might have caused them not to have children, and whether the sin lay with self or spouse. Both faced the infirmities that age brings. Both faced a crisis of faith. Then they get news that Elizabeth is pregnant. Her son will be named John. We call him John the Baptist. We know him to be a reclusive desert preacher, the cousin of Jesus and the enemy of Herod’s court. I tried to imagine his parent’s burden. Here is a miracle baby, born to elderly parents, who lives in caves and eats locusts and honey for his meals. Have you ever seen your children turning down a reckless path, and worried yourself sick? Have you ever seen a child not live up to the potential and aspirations you dreamed about? Imagine the disappointment. Perhaps, in their advanced age, Elizabeth and Zacharias died before they had to watch their son John get arrested and murdered by Herod.

The second couple we meet is much younger. Joseph and Mary were part-way through the traditional year-long engagement prior to marriage. Mary might have been no more than a child herself, forced to grow up very quickly with a surprise announcement from an angel; she was going to give birth to God’s son. Mary faced the burden of being an unwed, pregnant, teenage mother in a small-town. She carried the burden of not being able tell her story. A virgin carrying God’s child? Who would believe her. She would be shunned. She might even be killed. Mary did not even tell Joseph right away. Imagine rehearsing exactly what to should say when faced with the necessity of revealing a virgin pregnancy. Months later, Mary faced the physical burden of carrying a child, and journeying to Bethlehem very shortly before delivery. Mary accepts her circumstances with grace, but I wonder if she ever felt like life was unfair.  She had a harsh wake-up call to reality when she should have been filled with the dreams and idealism of youth.

Joseph had burdens as well. A good man facing an impossible choice, Joseph is caught in a dilemma. Does he stay faithful to a woman who looks like she has been cheating on him, or follow religious law and call of the wedding? He is torn between his family duty to Mary and his religious duty to the law. Does he ignore the law and show mercy, or follow the law and lose his fiancée? Joseph decides to let her go quietly, not make a big deal over this pregnancy, so she doesn’t have to face the punishments for pregnant unmarried women.

Imagine the burdens of parenting Jesus. Imagine as the child grows, Joseph tells Jesus stories about the Romans. We can almost hear him muttering about the way the Romans treat the Israelites — the heavy taxes, the hillsides crowded with crosses, the arrogance of Rome’s unlimited power. Imagine Mary planting in Jesus a passion for justice. Imagine his parents sharing their longing for peace with their child. These are the burdens and responsibilities of raising the next generation.

How about those shepherds? The first ones to hear this message are sheep herders, a marginalized peasant class who experienced the oppression and exploitation of the Empire. Once the angels appeared, they faced the burden of choice: should they leave their sheep and seek the Child? Should they the listen to the angels and risk irresponsibility for a great reward. Should they ignore the angels? Instead of following a summons to Bethlehem, should they follow the worn yet predictable routine of their lives?

We can’t have a Christmas scene without the Magi, even though they were not technically there at the manger, despite what all our nativity scenes depict. In an era when travel was more chancy and time-consuming, they faced a considerable investment of time in their journey, time away from families and their usual pursuits on a quest that would eventually take at least four years. They were burdened with the journey’s cost, with carrying enough money to supply their needs over time. They were alo burdened with finding, carrying, and safeguarding the perfect gift — a gift fit for royalty.

Then there’s King Herod, sitting in his castle, making sure government runs. His job is to ensure that life runs smoothly for the Empire. The Roman empire was about peace through war, division, and oppression. Unfortunately, Herod is also paranoid and maniacal. Into his world come three magi who turn it all upside down with the news that a new King has been born. There goes order. The world was already filled with religious fanatics and people who look to saviors to solve their problems. When confronted with the strange and unsettling possibility of revolt, Herod strike back with murder.

Then there’s the Innkeeper, the owner of the motel who opens the door to see a bedraggled man, a pregnant wife, and no place to house them. I sometimes wonder if the innkeeper gave Mary and Joseph room in the cattle barn because he was compassionate or greedy. Both are burdens in their own way. He either pitied the young travelers and did what he could to provide them shelter, or he rented out a barn to make a few extra bucks from a desperate couple.

There is one more who carries a burden. The donkey. A literal beast of burden who, at the birth of Jesus, probably just stands around and chews on hay. The Christmas donkey did his work. The donkey delivered Jesus, so Jesus could be delivered. The donkey didn’t gallop or giddy-up. The donkey did what donkeys do. Plodded. The donkey steadily stepped in the direction of the journey. And, upon arrival, the donkey stepped to the side. It demanded no recognition, expected no compensation. It did the job and let Jesus have all the attention. The donkey isn’t even mentioned in the Bible. But, as we insist here at CCC, there is a place in God’s story for everyone, even for the one who plods along, expecting no applause, bearing up under the weight of the long haul, and bearing the load the Christ who will carry us all.

What burdens do you carry today? What load is weighing you down? What are you carrying in your sacks? How could you carry them differently? You don’t need to carry around heavy burdens of doubt, or self-contempt-or inadequacy. Jesus says drop them and take the burden of love upon your shoulders instead.

We are not meant to carry our loads alone. We are not meant to walk alone, to dance alone, to mourn alone.  We don’t walk this journey alone. Christ walks with us, often in the appearance of a friend, a neighbor, a fellow church member, the one who offers to stay with us, listen to us, pray with us, hold us, bring us a cup of cold water.  I like to imagine that right now Jesus looks at you and me, and sees our pain. He knows the weight of our family problems. He knows what it’s like when we feel no good. Jesus understands loneliness and feeling like nobody really cares about or understands. He experienced it all himself. And through that Jesus says, “Just leave it behind for a while. All your striving to find love and acceptance is just a distraction. They are detours which lead you farther away from God’s love.” Jesus says, “I’ll carry all those burdens and distractions for you. That’s how much I love you.”

Sources:

http://www.preachingtoday.com/illustrations/2000/september/12628.html

12-2001 Christmas: The Burdened Season S. Ray Granade Ouachita Baptist University

https://maxlucado.com/lets-donkeys-christmas/

Sermon for December 10, 2017 | Advent 2

Rest and Resistance

Then Jesus went around teaching from village to village. Calling the Twelve to him, he began to send them out two by two and gave them authority over impure spirits. These were his instructions: “Take nothing for the journey except a staff—no bread, no bag, no money in your belts. Wear sandals but not an extra shirt. Whenever you enter a house, stay there until you leave that town. And if any place will not welcome you or listen to you, leave that place and shake the dust off your feet as a testimony against them.” They went out and preached that people should repent. They drove out many demons and anointed many sick people with oil and healed them.

Mark 6:3-13

Today is Human Rights Day – the day the United Nations General Assembly adopted the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. The Declaration proclaims the inalienable rights which everyone is inherently entitled to as a human being, regardless of race, color, religion, sex, language, political opinion, national origin, or status. It establishes the equal dignity and worth of every person. We could all use a reminder of Eleanor Roosevelt’s words, as she helped draft the Declaration in 1948. Asking where human rights began, she said, “In small places, close to home – so close and so small that they cannot be seen on any maps of the world …Unless these rights have meaning there, they have little meaning anywhere. Without concerted citizen action to uphold them close to home, we shall look in vain for progress in the larger world.”

Well, for those of us who call the Washington D.C. area home, there has been a lot of concerned citizen action lately. If active political resistance is your thing, then this was a busy week for you. You could have attended a large public action at the Supreme Court, Congress, or the White House every day this past week. I’m especially grateful to the members of our church who attended the DACA rally on Wednesday.

At this moment in our national life when the political landscape appears to crumble into authoritarianism, citizens are called to action more than ever. When hard-fought civil rights are on the line – rights we hoped were set in cement – we get angry. We resist. We march, we protest, we demonstrate, we call our representatives, and we raise our voices in solidarity with those whose power is diminished. This is what democracy looks like!

I am all for acts of public action against those who seek to solidify their authority by obstructing the human rights of others. We must speak truth to power. I must confess something, though. I’m tired out. It all feels like too much … too much violence, too much fear; too much of wars and slums and dying; too much of greed and the sounds of people devouring each other and the earth; too much of cruelty and selfishness and indifference. It’s just too much; too, bruising, battered much.

What do we do when we can’t find the energy to go to another public meeting, or when we begin to feel like contacting representatives is useless? What do we do when we fear our activism will have negative consequences, when our safety is at risk, or when we are invited to civil disobedience and don’t want to be arrested? What do we do when there are so many rallies, demonstrations, and actions to choose from, we just want to take a nap or go shopping instead?

When we see the full magnitude of the problems of the world, that’s when our decisions have critical significance. Not everybody has the luxury of giving up.  An ethicist and Black feminist named Sharon Welch says that caving in to cynicism and despair in the face of unsolvable problems is a temptation specific to the middle class. She says, “The despair of the affluent, the middle class, has a particular tone: it is a despair cushioned by privilege and grounded in privilege. It is easier to give up on long-term social change when one is comfortable in the present – when it is possible to have challenging work, excellent health care and housing, and access to the fine arts. When the good life is present or within reach, it is tempting to despair of its ever being in reach for others and resort to merely enjoying it for oneself and one's family... Becoming so easily discouraged is the privilege of those accustomed to too much power, accustomed to having needs met without negotiation and work, accustomed to having a political and economic system that responds to their needs"

When I feel discouraged, I’m tempted to watch from the sidelines and let someone else do the work. Feeling discouraged in the face of despair is a privilege. Discouragement is a privilege for those who, like me, have a political system that responds to our needs. We in the mainstream, White, middle class were taught that if we work hard enough, if we can persevere through the tough times and stand up for ourselves, life will get better.

Others have life experiences that tell a different story. Many of us know the name Zora Neal Hurston, author of Their Eyes Were Watching God. At a young age, Zora was passed from relative to relative and had to make her own way in the world, in a lifelong battle against what has been called the triple oppression of black women: economic, racial, and gender. She became one of the most prominent black women writers of the Harlem Literary Renaissance between the World Wars. Throughout her career, Zora’s male literary colleagues devalued her work. White publishers unjustly accused her of molesting a young boy. Her life and career went into free fall. She moved back to Florida where she eked out a living as a maid, library clerk, substitute teacher, and freelance writer. Poor, discouraged, and weary of rejection letters, she wrote to her agent, “Just inching along like a stepped-on worm from day to day. Borrowing a little here and there … The humiliation is getting too much for my self-respect, speaking from inside my soul. I have tried to keep it to myself and just wait. To look and look at the magnificent sweep of the Everglade, birds included, and keep a smile on my face …” The story of Zora Neale Hurston is not a “see you at the top!” story of how persistence brings success. In 1959, Hurston suffered a severe stroke and entered a County Welfare Home, where she died three months later, on January 28, 1960.

African-American thinkers and writers offer a sharp critique of those of us who think hard work and perseverance lead to positive social change. The mainstream, middle class mindset does not work for them. Over centuries, African Americans have resisted multiple oppressions that stifle human life. Sharon Welch calls us to a different mindset. She calls it an “ethic of risk.” Learning from the African American experience in this country, we must all keep caring and keep resisting, even though there are no guarantees of success. To stop resisting, even when it seems like nothing is getting better; even when it may, in fact, be getting worse; even success seems unimaginable; to stop resisting is to die.

Novelist Alice Walker, author of The Color Purple, remembered how her mother used to say, “Make a way out of no way.” Teaching Zora Neale Hurston's novel Their Eyes Were Watching God in a literature course in the early 1970s, she learned that Zora was buried in an unmarked grave in the Garden of Heavenly Rest, a segregated cemetery in Fort Pierce, Florida. Outraged at this insult, Alice Walker headed south, determined to find Zora's grave. Making her way through waist-high weeds, she located the grave and placed a marker inscribed with the words: “Zora Neale Hurston, A Genius of the South, Novelist, Folklorist, Anthropologist, 1901-1960.” Thanks to the grace and grit of Alice Walker and others, Zora Neale Hurston is now the most widely taught Black woman writer in the canon of American literature. She met the triple oppression of Black women with a threesome of resisting qualities shared by Black women throughout their history of suppression: invisible dignity, quiet grace, and un-shouted courage.

If only we could all sustain those qualities. If only we all had the strength to remain take the heat enough to continually love, and continually resist.

A resistor is a device designed to limit the flow of electricity in a circuit. When electricity meets a resistor, the resistor takes the heat and disperses it through the surrounding air. Resistors are designed to operate under specific voltages. Under a normal voltage load, the resistor feels cool to warm by touch. However, resistors can get worn out. When overloaded with voltage exceeding its power rating, the resistor will become hot to touch. At this point, the resistor is unable to resist the flow of current and it breaks down.

Could the same be true in our spiritual activism. What happens when the voltage around us becomes to much, when we can no longer take the heat, when we lose our cool, when further resistance means risk burning up and breaking down?

Or, to use another metaphor, If I want to get stronger and transform my body, I can go to the gym and lift heavy weights like a crazy man. But heavy weight under tension for a long time puts too much strain on my body. Too much resistance risks the opposite of my goal. In my quest for transformation, I can hurt myself. Sometimes, I need to step back and lift some lighter weights for a brief time. Growth comes in rest.

Here is where we need to be careful. Rest can lead to inertia. I know that in my own life, if I rest to long, I don’t want to get back into the resistance. We no longer have that privilege. Our world needs us to be like those first followers of Jesus who went two-by-two into towns and villages, proclaiming Good News, healing the sick, loving the outcasts, and confronting the evil. When forcing peace felt like a waste of time and energy, they learned when to shake the dust from our feet and move on.

We resist, we rest, we prepare to face the heat again, and we get back to work. We will get tired. We will grow weary. We will face our pains and fears. Before we burn out, we retreat, we pray and listen for the Spirit’s summons. We evaluate our strategies. We take time to sing, laugh, and heal. Then we act again. This is the rhythm of spiritual activism. Resistance and rest, resistance and rest, resistance and rest, following the tempo of God’s heartbeat.

All is not hopeless. Do not give into despair. Do not give up. Do not give in. New life begins today. O God, give us power to lift the people. O God, give us power because we need it. Justice will be done, evil will be beaten, and God will set all things right through our prayers and through our actions. When people are discouraged we pray, God, give us power to the lift the people.

When those who have been victimized can’t fathom the horror of life, God, give us power to the lift the people.

When those who have been treated like garbage can only respond with apathy and resignation, God, give us power to the lift the people.

When victims of oppression take the blame for oppression and lose their trust in humanity, God, give us power to the lift the people.

For those yearning some peace in a fallen world, God, give us power to the lift the people.

For those who think that justice means injuring those who injure us, that error can be corrected by error, that evil can be vanquished by evil, God, give us power to the lift the people.

For those who believe God still has something wonderful to do in our lives and in our world, God, give us power to the lift the people.

God give us more power to tear down the walls that keep us from one another, God, move humanity with humanity for the protection of good. Thrust back the evil of violence and set virtue on her seat again (Bhagavad Gita). God give us power to lift the people.

Sources:

·        No Justice, No Peace--a sermon given by Tara Stephenson at the UUCLV on September 29, 2013

·        http://www.un.org/en/events/humanrightsday/

·        Robert Neal Henenway, Zora Neale Hurston: A Literary Biography, 116. Quoted at http://www.patheos.com/progressive-christian/hand-plow-alyce-mckenzie-06-24-2013#CAE34ikEthGhlxPW.99

·        (Sharon Welch, A Feminist Ethic of Risk, 15).

·        http://www.patheos.com/progressive-christian/hand-plow-alyce-mckenzie-06-24-2013#CAE34ikEthGhlxPW.99

·        https://sciencing.com/happens-resistor-burns-up-8556222.html