Joy Comes in the Mo(u)rning

Joy Comes In The Mo(u)rning

Sermon for MCC New Haven

December 16, 2012

Rev. Brian Hutchison, M.Div.

  

Today is a bit of a paradox. In the Christian calendar, we celebrate the third Sunday in Advent, which has the theme of “Joy.” This third Sunday is traditionally called Gaudete Sunday, the word gaudete meaning, “rejoice” in Latin. We are given the opportunity within our waiting for the Christ Child to celebrate. That’s why we light the pink candle today, rose being a softer color than the dark purple of repentance. The paradox we face today is that it is difficult to rejoice, to feel full joy, when many children and adults were thoughtlessly murdered in New Town, Connecticut on Friday. When I read the words from Paul’s letter to the Philippians saying, “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice,” I wonder how we can always rejoice. Did the writer of the book of Ecclesiastes not write that there is a time for everything: a time to mourn and a time to dance?

I am reminded of the Book of Lamentations in the Hebrew Bible (the Tanakh), in which the Jewish people lamented the destruction of Jerusalem in the 6^th century BCE. One of the poems in this book says this: “Happiness has gone out of our lives; grief has taken the place of our dances. Nothing is left of all we were proud of. We sinned and now we are doomed. We are sick at our very hearts and can hardly see through our tears… Why have you abandoned us so long? Will you ever remember us again? Bring us back to you, Lord! Bring us back! Restore our ancient glory” (Lam. 5:15-21). What I like about the Book of Lamentations is that the writers don’t hold anything back. They fully express how they are feeling. They express their thought that what happened to them was a punishment for their sin as a people. They expressed their understanding God as angry and wrathful, and even absent.

The feelings expressed in Lamentations are very similar to what many of us are feeling this week: lack of safety, sadness and grief over loss of life, alienation, and fear. The authors of Lamentations do not proscribe for us a good understanding of the nature of God. We do not believe in a wrathful, angry, and punishing God. The God of Jesus is a God of Unconditional Love. But we can empathize with their pain because we know all too well where our minds go when tragedy strikes.

One of the best quotes I heard this week said, “I want to be angry with God and ask God why God didn’t do something. But then I realize that God would ask me the same thing.” We can be assured in sound doctrine that God not only would never make such a tragedy happen, but surely God wept as each human’s life was taken. We must also recognize that the heart of God aches each and every second as children around the world suffer, go hungry, and die all the time. As God is in whom we live and move and have our being, God feels our pain as intimately as we feel it ourselves.

So this is Joy Sunday, and I wonder what Good News the scriptures bring us today. Let’s look at the Gospel reading. Luke tells us today about John the Baptist and his rant against those who only wanted to be baptized because it was popular. They didn’t get the gravity of the act, that baptism was a sign of turning away from the ways of the Ego, not indulging them. Luke calls them a “brood of vipers.” That’s a pretty strong image! He tells them that they can’t ride on the coattails of Abraham to get out of facing their unloving ways. Because the one to come (Jesus, that is) will come to refine their lives- in a holy fire. Some people have mistaken these verses to say that Jesus will come to throw some people into hell. Biblical scholarship has shown us that that was just not the case. The chaff to be thrown into the fire does not represent us- the children of God. It represents our egos: our selfish, power-hungry, and fearful ways. John says that Jesus will baptize with the holy Spirit and with fire. I know that in Pentecostal traditions, baptism by the Holy Ghost and by fire involves a speaking in tongues experience. But what we see in their ancient context was something much broader: a total life-transformation.

The text we heard today from Paul’s letter to the Philippians explains to us what a transformed life looks like: gentleness, a worry-free attitude, prayerfulness, gratitude, and peace. Certainly in a world in which tragedies like what happened on Friday happen too often, we need to all practice and teach more gentleness. And though we are tempted to worry about our safety, we know that excessive worry just makes us ill. As for prayer, you don’t need to get on your knees, folding your hands, and say “Dear God” and “Amen” for it to be a prayer. Humming a beautiful tune is a prayer. Giving a hug is a prayer. Smiling at a lonely person is a prayer. Calling a friend in need is a prayer. Sitting or walking in silence is a prayer. An attitude of gratitude is a prayer.

Life will never be free of troubles. Things will never fully go your way. That’s just the way the world is. But that does not mean that every day is an occasion for sorrow. I believe that God made us in joy and takes joy in our every breath. So even in the midst of sorrow, there is joy. Lebanese Christian poet Kahlil Gibran wrote this about Joy and Sorrow: “Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears. And how else can it be? The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain. Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven? And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives? When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy. When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.”

Joy and sorrow are in a way the same emotion on opposite ends of a spectrum. They are both strong. They are both transformative. They are both part of being human. It is now a time to mourn, but at the same time, we can look into our hearts with gratitude for the joy that we each have in our own lives.

Today, I am reminded of a story in the Gospel of Matthew called, “The Massacre of the Innocents.” It is told that King Herod, upon hearing from the Magi that a king would be born in Bethlehem, ordered all male children under age two to be killed. Church tradition has recognized those children as the first Christian martyrs. Historians question whether this event actually happened, but that is not ultimately what matters. What matters is that our scriptures reflect to us the reality of evil in our world. It isn’t about blaming the devil or strange things going on in the spiritual realm. It is about recognizing that our lives are fragile and we are here to take care of each other. We are here to be our sister and our brother’s keeper.

One of my favorite Christmas carols is not a happy Jingle Bells- like song. It is rather a carol of lament. The name of it is the Coventry Carol. It was written in the 16^th century in England and has survived over the centuries in remembering the Holy Innocents. It goes like this:

Lully, lullay, Thou little tiny Child,

Bye, bye, lully, lullay.

Lullay, thou little tiny Child,

Bye, bye, lully, lullay.

O sisters too, how may we do,

For to preserve this day

This poor youngling for whom we do sing

Bye, bye, lully, lullay.

Herod, the king, in his raging,

Charged he hath this day

His men of might, in his own sight,

All young children to slay.

That woe is me, poor Child for Thee!

And ever mourn and sigh,

For thy parting neither say nor sing,

Bye, bye, lully, lullay.

The author of this carol imagined Mary singing this song about her own baby, Jesus, in fear for his life. The hearer is led by the song to feel the concern of all parents for their children, in the face of danger.

         We declare in MCC solidarity with the New Town community and with all who grieve the loss of loved ones around the world. And in doing so, not only do our hearts hurt, but we are also called to the joy that lies within our hearts always. So I ask you to remember today what gives you joy. What makes your soul soar? What do you do that really feeds your spirit? This week, pick one of those things and do it remembering the blessing of life that you still hold onto, a blessing that others near us have lost. In doing your joyful activity in memory of those children lost, I assure you your joy will be a deeper joy.

         There are still so many questions that are left unanswered. We wonder why people do the unthinkable things they do sometimes. We often quickly smack the “crazy” label on such situations. But insanity is not our only problem. We have a cultural problem that glorifies violence, fear, and all things ego. This is my basic understanding. But for the continuing process of contemplation, I leave you with a quote from Alice Walker’s The Color Purple. The character Celie writes this: “I think us here to wonder, myself. To wonder. To ask. And that in wondering bout the big things and asking bout the big things, you learn about the little ones, almost by accident. But you never know nothing more about the big things than you start out with. The more I wonder, the more I love.”

Keep wondering, my friends. Remember, God is the Mystery Beyond our Naming. I am here as a prayer and conversation partner in the coming weeks if you need a kind ear. May we all find the Peace of Christ within our hearts once again. Though weeping endures for the night, joy will come with the morning. Amen.