The Church of the Ascension
December 30, 2007

In the name of God: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. AMEN.

With a cautious eye cast in my direction, my daughter-in-law announced that the Christmas tree was coming down on Friday.  My reputation as a keeper of all things Christmas apparently is well known.  “But that will be only the third day of Christmas,” I began to say; but catching myself mid-lecture, I thought better of it.  An honest glance at the tree helped me realize that by now four little 4 and a half year old hands had done about all that should be done to any Christmas tree, and that it truly was time for this forlorn creature to say good night and good luck.  From all accounts it had served well and deserved to be ground into little bits that will now make some other plants growth more productive.  And so with not much fanfare at all, the most visible sign of Christmas in the room departed forever - forever at least it this year’s incarnation.

This is the week of Christmas; and though we may continue to say “Merry Christmas” faithfully to one another, trying to put the best foot forward on this “twelve days of Christmas” stuff, the truth is Christmas, the cultural event, is over.   Some years the glow of a wonderful Christmas lasts for awhile, the anticipation of it all being replaced with sweet sadness of missing family and friends.  Other years…well…the glow is less vivid and there is relief that it is all over.  But either way, the week following Christmas Day begs within most of us some question about what all of it truly means.  With the tinsel gone or tarnished, what is the truth under all of the pageantry?

The gospel passage selected by those who organize such things for the church addresses these core wonderings.  The gospel for today is dramatically different from what we heard earlier in the week.  Quite unlike the accounts in Matthew and Luke, John makes no attempt to report any of the historical circumstances of Jesus’ birth.  Written as much as forty years later than the others, some scholars claim, the gospel of John puts forth a view of Christ that is far advanced from the story of the nativity.  No bucolic imagery here, no simple sweet child surrounded by adoring livestock and awe-struck shepherds, the Christ of John’s gospel is fully grown and fully realized.  The principle claim of the gospel is clear in its opening words, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”  In the couple of generations that had passed since Jesus’ death within the community of John, the notion of Jesus as co-eternal with God, there from the beginning, God become Man had been rooted in the consciousness of the community.

There are several reasons why this shift had occurred, chief among them being the growing division and rancor between Jews who believed that Jesus was the Messiah and Jews who did not.  The history of that development is interesting but for me not the crux of the issue.   When all is said and done, the question that remains for each of us all these years after this seminal Christian event is what we do – what each of us does - with the reality of Christ in our lives.  If we are to be serious about our faith, there is not a more important question that we will ever face.  What are we to do in 2008 and for the rest of our lives with the news that Christ has come and resides within us?  It strikes me that the story of Christmas forces us year after year to ask ourselves what difference the Christ-story makes for us.    

In Mike Nichol’s new film, “Charlie Wilson’s War,” there is a humorous scene with a Texas constituent and contributor who wants Congressman Wilson to intervene in a dispute back in Texas about displaying a nativity scene on public property.  Not critical to the story line, the scene gets dropped fairly quickly, but it set me to thinking again about how derailed our attempting to follow Jesus can be and how easy it is for us to substitute what looks like following Jesus for the real thing.  All the cultural warring and posturing notwithstanding, the real battle for the primacy of Christ is not about where nativity scenes are displayed.  The power of Christ in the lives of Christians is displayed by how we live our lives, not by the quantity or prominence of the religious imagery we revere.   Having a nativity scene on the Borough Hall doorsteps will not substantially advance the cause of Christ in the world; loving the unlovely, feeding the poor, and working to right systemic wrongs in the name of Christ do.  If evangelism is our goal, the former is unlikely to convert; the latter might. 

Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve, a day supposedly which invites introspection and resolving.  I heard a piece on the Today Show or some such lofty news source this week indicating the top five resolutions people make and break.  I had every one of them – losing weight, getting more exercise, becoming more organized, etc. etc.  It always irritates me to learn how ordinary I am.  Since apparently a good number of you are likely to share them anyway, I will spare you my personal resolutions; but I will tell you a few things I dream about as a follower of Jesus. 

1. I hope to fight religious bigotry in myself and others, resisting the temptation to grandstand about religious certainty.  “In the beginning was the word” is my truth; it is the story beyond the story of the nativity for me.  My prayer is that I can live it without beating up anyone else with it.  Religious or spiritual arrogance is so appealing not because we really know that we are right but because claiming to be so positive reduces our anxieties that we might be wrong.  But it really never really works, and my prayer for 2008 is that I will live a little less certainly and a lot more faithfully.
2. It occurs to me that Jesus never took the pulse of his listeners or used a focus group before he said what he really believed.  I’d like to be more like that - taking unpopular stands in supporting the downtrodden even if they are very unpopular and affect our giving base.  Priests really should never take a stance based on whether it will make someone give more or less to the church, and I think all of us do.
3. And along those lines I’d like to be a part of a process that asks all of us to fight our fears of immigrants, forcing a conversation in this culture about how our immigration policies can be legal and generous.  Particularly I pray that the church – ours and beyond – will become a place of sanctuary for all kinds of marginal people and that when that scares us, we will remember what Jesus said about caring for the least among us.
4. I also hope that we can be as green as we can – not because it is hip and popular all of sudden but because God said that creation is good.  It seems to me that means we need to do all we can to save it – which is more than politics, more than either believing or doubting claims about global warming, but something at the core of what it means to be stewards of the gifts God gives us.
5. Finally, I have some hopes for the Church of the Ascension, which though stated as resolutions for the parish are also resolutions for me:
1. Give more than we are comfortable giving;
2. Never make a child feel unwelcomed, a parent uncomfortable, or an old person irrelevant.
3. Be a place that is so joyous that visitors immediately sense it.
4. Dream bigger than our pocketbooks or our better judgment.
5. Never say – not one time – “Oh, that will never work here; we have tried it before.”
6. Put church attendance ahead of other activities.  If we don’t believe coming to church is worth it, who else will?

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”  It is our story, a particular story, a story of living, loving, and hoping.  It is the story of our lives, a story worth everything in the world.

In the name of God:  AMEN.