Deacon Rick Lapierre
Is Everybody Happy? Can I be honest? Can we talk? From up here it sure doesn't look like it. Didn't anyone listen to Zephaniah this morning? "Shout for joy, be glad and rejoice? OK, so you're asking yourself, who is Zephaniah? How about St. Paul, "rejoice in the Lord always, I say it again, rejoice." Still not happening?
Let me play the cynic for a few minutes. It's 11 shopping days to Christmas, the house is a mess, my least favorite relative is threatening to come and visit, the kids have the flu, my credit card is maxed out, the refrigerator is making funny noises like it wants to give up the ghost, etc., etc., etc. Rejoice? What are you, insane!
Yet you all come here week after week, looking for an answer to the question of why do all of these things happen in your life. Or, to quote the great philosopher Charlie Brown, "Why me?" I want to offer you two observations today.
The first is that you're not alone. The rest of the people in church this morning all are asking the same questions. It's why we do come here week after week, year after year, seeking something from our God. And this is nothing new. In Jesus' time as well, the people of Israel were asking themselves the same questions. OK, so they didn't have credit cards! Did you ever study John the Baptist's homilies? It is obvious even from the written word that he preached with an incredible passion. He was the first fire and brimstone preacher of the Christian era, and the crowds flocked to hear him, the gospel tells us. And they could not get enough. John told them what they must do. His message is at the core of what Jesus taught as well, love everyone as well as you love yourself! To the soldiers he preached honesty, to the tax collectors fairness. He did not expect them to turn into some type of religious figure, but to live the life that they were called to in the light and manner of God's love.
And what happened next? "The people were filled with expectation!" even believing that John was the Messiah of God, a notion he quickly dispelled.
The second observation is tied to the first. In the gospel stories we rarely hear of someone finding God all by themselves. We are often led into the presence of God by those with whom we interact. In the story of Bartimaeus in Mark's gospel, blind Bartimaeus is crying out to be healed and when Jesus hears him and calls to him, it is the crowd that encourages him to get up and go to Jesus. Those in the crowd were probably in need of their own healings, but they encouraged Bartimaeus and supported him.
We are all in this together. It is this same spirit of community which moved so many of you to support our Advent giving tree. Your concern for others reminds me that the Kingdom of God, the fulfillment of which will come upon us with the return of Jesus in glory, is being built here on earth one small action at a time. The triumph of the Kingdom, as John the Baptist reminds us, is that each one of us must be more concerned with the victory of God's kingdom than we are with our own personal wants and desires. When we can step away from our own desires and problems and wants, we are not just denying ourselves, but we are opening up the possibilities of God's Kingdom our my lives When I stop focusing on me, God can then use me as He sees fit.
In the past couple of years it has been pointed out that spirituality has become highly individualized, with an overwhelming reliance on one's personal relationship to God. The danger with such spirituality is that we become overly dependent on ourselves, to the exclusion of the community that surrounds and supports us and often even to the Spirit of the living God. It's all about me.
Yet this isn't the message of Jesus, or John the Baptist, or Paul, or even Zephaniah. It's about a Kingdom, a people, a church, a family, a community united in their belief that God is with them and that no matter what, the love of God will conquer all, even the least favorite relative who is coming to visit.
And if this love of God is present here in our church this morning, then by God, we should be rejoicing. The Kingdom of God is at hand! Alleluia!
And the Alleluia is not because Jesus is coming a week from Thursday. He's already here! We're just coming together next week to celebrate His birthday. We're coming together a week from Thursday to celebrate what He has brought to us. The love and forgiveness of God has already arrived. The Kingdom of God IS here!
So this week, rejoice and be glad. The coming snowstorm, the last minute crowds, the minor inconveniences of the holiday season do not compare to what we have already received.
And what did St. Paul know anyway? He wrote to the Philippians while in prison in Ephesus in what is now Turkey. He had no idea how long he would be imprisoned, or even if he would survive. But he knew something about God and Jesus that perhaps has escaped us this holiday season. Whatever it was he knew, he was able to proclaim loudly to the community at Philippi to "rejoice always." Is it possible to be joyful while in prison and uncertain of the future?
I leave you with this story. There was an American soldier in England during the Second World War. It was a time of uncertainty as the Allied forces prepared to invade Fortress Europe. One Christmas Day he felt the loneliness of prison, being so far from home and having no idea of where he would be by the next Christmas, or even if he would still be alive. He and his friends took a walk into the town near their Army base. As dawn was breaking over the town, they spotted an old dilapidated building with a sign that read "Saint Ann's Orphanage." They decided to knock on the door and see what kind of Christmas celebration might be occurring. The nun who came to the door invited them in, explaining that most of the children were orphans from the relentless bombings that had flattened many English cities. As the children tumbled out of bed, the soldiers saw no Christmas tree, no presents, no decorations. The soldiers moved through the children and gladly shared whatever they had in their pockets: candy, gum, small change, a pencil.
One boy huddled by himself in a corner and the soldier thought that he looked a lot like his nephew back in the United States. He went over to him and asked him what he wanted most for Christmas. The little boy looked up at him and said, "Will you hold me?" The soldier picked up the little boy and held him close.
The Kingdom of God is being built in our presence each day, one small loving act at a time. And that, my brothers and sisters, is why we can rejoice always.
