I Know What I Hope...

Luke 2:1-20
Revelation 21:1-4

I Know What I Hope...

Emily Dickinson said that…

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune without the words,

And never stops at all.

Recently, the Pope has come out and spoken on something for which many of us hold out hope... that our furry and feathered friends, our pets, will be in heaven.  I have always believed this might be true, and despite centuries of good priests and pastors and shattering the worlds of little kids, many of us hold to it.  You've probably seen the church signs.  On this side of the street, "All dogs go to heaven."  On that side of the street, "Animals don't have souls, read your Bible."  Back on this side, "Presbyterian dogs have souls, Baptists, ask your minister."  "Being Presbyterian does not grant you a soul, this is not up for debate!"  "Free souls with every conversion and baptism!"  Now don't you wish we had a scrolling marquee?

I tend to believe that all that language about God's Kingdom and new heavens and new earths that includes words about animals lying down together, ox and lamb and calf with predators of all kind... it's so prevalent that I believe a new heaven and earth without animals makes very little sense.  But I don't know.  I know what I hope.

At this time of year, even with the rush, there are times of challenge and reflection and memory that crash together… the interplay of time, eternity, loss, and hope…  We think of the memories we have with all the loved ones gathered here with us at worship, those under the tree tomorrow morning, or around tables all Advent season.  We think back on the memories we've collected, the moments we've shared.  We think of all those who are not here because of time or distance or new circumstances, those who we've lost, and those who we feel with us in a special way this time of year.  We settle in to hear the words in scripture and song that are so familiar, and yet so wildly fantastical.  A king born in a manger, God's son born to a lowly family in a barn, shepherds and kings, a virgin birth, angels and dreams and stars in the sky!

We are challenged in our reason and for our "reasons" in a season that has nothing to do with reason at all. God loved us and came and dwelt with us, Emmanuel.  Hope was born this day.  Explain that.  Explain your traditions.  Explain your gatherings, your gifts, your greetings.  As our Jewish brethren say of God showing up, a miracle happened here.  Maybe hope is enough.  Maybe what we can prove or explain or verify or defend in the midst of our rituals, our celebrations, our joy and our grief is not nearly so important as what we hope.  Do you believe in miracles?  Do you believe in the virgin birth?  Do you believe Mary was 14 or 24?  How about Joseph?  Was the star a supernova?  Did God really come to earth?  Do you believe in angels?  Santa?  Dreams and prophecies?  What do you believe?!?  More importantly... what do you hope?

When I was in seminary, I had a professor by the name of Dr. Carson Brison.  He was a wise man and an excellent story teller and writer.  He wrote a story I'd like to share with you about a student he had in his time at small private university some years ago.

He had a class that met Tuesdays and Thursdays, and his student by the name of Jessie usually came to one or the other.  At the midterms, he sent home progress reports to parents.  When her mother called, he shared some study tips and suggested that coming to class a lot more would help.  Her mom agreed.  As the conversation wrapped up, she asked if he was the "same Carson" who signed the VA benefits forms for dependents of veterans who had died in the line of duty and he confirmed he was.

No one had been able to tell her what happened, but she took comfort in being told it happened suddenly.  Her last memory was a day in the park when he had carried Jessie high on his shoulders.  Some memories never fade.

Jessie's attendance did improve for a short time, but reverted to her former pattern.  When she came, she took notes for a while and then would put her head down.  She seemed constantly to be exhausted.  Her classmates clearly did not admire her.

During the final class period, they studied the passage we read tonight from Revelation 21 and how it related to other apocalyptic literature.  Just before dismissing the class, Jessie raised her hand, and without waiting to be called on, she asked, "That verse..." She glanced around the classroom at impatient classmates.  "That verse about God drying every tear.  Does that mean every tear from that time on... or that God will go back into all time and find every tear and dry all of them too?"

A smart popular student on the front row rolled her eyes, checked her watch, crossed her arms and hunkered impatiently into her seat.  A murmur and several chuckles came from around the room as they began packing their bags. 

My professor had not expected a question from Jessie.  Ever.  Especially not about the interplay of time, eternity, loss, and hope.  He did his very best recover from the surprise, his mind reeling with considerations of interpretation of historical texts, literary and historical and theological contexts.  How hard it is to interpret a text of this kind in a linear way.  And he thought about his conversation with Jessie's mom.  And of course, the bright annoyed student right in front of him.  He felt an answer come out of him and was sure it was no good immediately.  Jessie's disappointment was clear.

The next week, following that abrupt inquiry, my professor put Jessie's question on the exam as purely extra credit, dressed up with lots of academic language, but at its heart, clearly the same question. Only two students attempted to answer the question... Jessie... and the bright popular student who had been so annoyed that day.

In part, Jessie's response was this... The day I asked this question, not quite how you put it here, you didn’t really answer it.  I called my mom and told her my religion professor didn't answer my only question all semester.  I told her it was more like you talked about what you hoped the answer would be.  She said that for some questions in life, it might count more what you hope the answer is than that you have it all figured out.  Do you think she's right?

You don't know this, but my father died when I was very young.  I don't really remember him except one day he rode me on his shoulders so high I felt like I was flying.  I don't know the answer to this question professor.  I really don't.  But I know what I hope the answer is.  I know what I hope.  Is that worth any points?

I think I really need this extra credit to pass this course.  I am transferring home next semester and I need as many classes as possible to transfer.

The answer from the bright popular girl on the front row dealt with the structure of the passage, literary and historical context, grammar and syntax.  She wrote rather poetically, that such texts seem to be dipped in a special coating that makes them resistant to simple answers to tough questions like the one the girl asked.  These writings deal not in the currency of verifiable fact, but in the currency of hope.  She then added a personal note and request to her answer...

I know my answer is a good one.  You know I don't need any extra credit.  Please consider giving my credit to the girl on the back row, the one who slept all the time and kept us late that day and whose question seemed to shake you so badly.  I bet she needs it.  I want her to have it.  I think maybe so do you.  I think I saw what you thought when a lot of us laughed.

My professor shared that he didn't know what happened to the girl or if she transferred.  He doesn't know what moved that bright popular girl from indifference to compassion.  He doesn't know if he made the right decision about her extra credit and final grade.  He still doesn't know a perfect answer to any question about time, eternity, loss, and hope. 

And neither do I.  But I know what I hope.  And my prayer as you leave here is that no matter what you face in the holiday season or your year ahead, challenges and celebrations, joy and loss, when you are asked what you know and you have nothing, I pray you know what you hope.  What do I know?  I really don't know.  But I know what I hope.  Amen.

I do Not Think That Word Means What You Think it Means…

Author's Note:  Most of my recent sermons have not been preached from manuscripts, but from a loose outline of notecards and storytelling.  What follows is very close to what I preached at the Thanksgiving Eve service after our soup supper, but may be somewhat different.

Call to Worship:

Awake, my glory! Awake, O harp and lyre! I will awake the dawn!
Praise him with tambourine and dance; praise him with strings and pipe! 
I will also praise you with the harp for your faithfulness, O my God;
I will sing praises to you with the lyre, O Holy One of Israel.
Praise him with trumpet sound; praise him with lute and harp!
Raise a song; sound the tambourine, the sweet lyre with the harp.


Gospel Lesson:  Matthew 5:21-22, 27-28, 33-34a, 38-45a

Anger

21 “You have heard that it was said to those of old, ‘You shall not murder; and whoever murders will be liable to judgment.’ 22 But I say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment; whoever insults his brother will be liable to the council; and whoever says, ‘You fool!’ will be liable to the hell of fire.

Lust

27 “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ 28 But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart. 

Oaths

33 “Again you have heard that it was said to those of old, ‘You shall not swear falsely, but shall perform to the Lord what you have sworn.’ 34 But I say to you, Do not take an oath at all

Retaliation

38 “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ 39 But I say to you, Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also. 40 And if anyone would sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well. 41 And if anyone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles. 42 Give to the one who begs from you, and do not refuse the one who would borrow from you.

Love Your Enemies

43 “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’44 But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, 45 so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven.

I do Not Think That Word Means What You Think it Means…

You have heard it said… you have heard it said… you have heard it said… but I say…

Jesus loved to swoop in and challenge a good tradition and make people think about why they held onto it and whether or not it drew them closer to God and his people or away.

A parish got a new priest. During his first service, when a certain prayer was said, half the congregation stood up and half remained sitting. The half that was seated started yelling at those standing to sit down, and the ones standing yelled at the ones sitting to stand up. The new priest did not know what to do. His congregation suggested to consult a 98-year-old man, who was the oldest inhabitant of the village. The priest hoped the elderly man would be able to tell him what the actual tradition was, so he went to the old people's home with a representative of each fraction of the congregation.

The one whose followers stood during the prayer said to the old man, "It is the tradition to stand during this prayer!"

The old man answered, "No, that is not the tradition."

The one whose followers sat said gladly, "Then the tradition is to sit during this prayer!"

The old man answered, "No, that is not the tradition."

Then the priest said to the old man, "But the congregation fight all the time, yelling at each other about whether they should sit or stand!"

The old man interrupted, exclaiming, "That is the tradition!"

In my family, the joke was always that if we did something once, now it was a tradition.  And my sister would be sure we followed it, especially at holidays.

We have traditions of thanksgiving, like our soup supper that supports the youth in mission and this evening worship services, advent traditions, and Christmas Eve worship services. We even have a weekly “TRADITIONAL” service.

If you’ve ever seen the movie or read the book, The Princess Bride, you know there’s a character who spends much of the film greatly frustrated.  Whenever he vents about his frustrations, he cries out, “This is inconceivable!”  After a few dozen times, one character turns to him and says, “I do not think this word means what you think it means.”

And so it goes with “tradition,” with “traditional.”  What do they mean?

What makes thanksgiving traditional? Meals? Shopping? Not shopping? Food? Family?

What makes values traditional? Old values? How old? Pre-civil rights? Pre-women's suffrage? Pre-revolutionary? Traditional ideas about owning property and people and the superior intellect of a given race or gender are not ideas most of us now accept. And aren’t we glad?

What makes marriage traditional? For most of history, across many cultures, it was marked by mutually beneficial family arrangements, transactions of goods. For thousands of years, it was not just tradition, but custom and law to marry your in-law if the spouse died. Look it up… Deuteronomy 25.

The notion of picking a spouse based on personal affection or attraction or some concept of romantic love is radically new and modern as a cultural norm. 

How many of you would be married to your spouse if your parents had done the choosing? How many of you would have additional wives or be married to an in-law, if those old customs of traditional marriage still held?

So many of our biblical heroes had multiple wives, concubines, and even stranger arrangements. 

What about traditional worship? What makes the traditional service traditional?  Is it what came first? The music? The style? The instruments? The space?

The Organ was conceived of 300 years before the birth of Christ, but its modern design, which is electric, wasn’t created until 1934.  The piano we used tonight?  That wasn’t around until the 1700s.  In our call to worship from Psalms written 600 years before Christ, it mentions stringed instruments, drums, tambourines, flutes, trumpets… All instruments we are very likely to see in our “contemporary” services more often than the “traditional” one.

What about the use of a pulpit? Jesus and the prophets weren’t often to be found on one so much as a hillside.  Sunday worship? Are you kidding?  The Jews worshipped, and still do, on Saturday.

Now, I'm not saying we should rename the Sunday services or even suggesting that one service is more traditional than the other.  It might be.  ;-)  Rename a service?  We’d have an uproar like that young priest.

Jesus came to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable, to challenge us.  When we get comfortable with the way we use the word tradition, we lose our actual traditions. Traditions like faith, belief, one true God, a savior who loves us.  Our best traditions are hope, peace, love, and joy.  Our best traditions aren't turkey/tofurkey… they're thankfulness.  Our best traditions aren't shopping or even capitalism, they're generosity.  Not worship style, but who is worshipped, and where we go when we leave, and what we do.

I challenge each of you to consider your own traditions and the meaning they help you create, if they draw you closer to God and your brothers and sisters of this world.

I want you to consider two things when you look at each of your traditions.  One – does it create meaning?  Do you gain greater understanding, appreciation, memory, some sort of meaning from it?  Two – does it encourage love?  The kind of love that Christ first showed us.  If the meaning is lost or twisted.  Or if your tradition doesn’t look like love to someone else looking in… that tradition no longer holds value.  Throw it away.  Create a new one.

I challenge yourself as you gather around table tomorrow on Thanksgiving, as you make the journey through advent and plan for Christmas Eve and Christmas morning, examine every tradition and ask yourself… Does your tradition create meaning?  Does your tradition encourage love?  Does it create meaning?  And encourage love?  Amen.