Good News / Bad News

I am a fan of “Good News/Bad News” jokes, so imagine my joy when I came across this genre of about ministers:

The Good News: You baptized seven people today in the river.  The Bad News: You lost two of them in the strong current.

The Good News: The Women’s Guild voted to send you a get-well card.  The Bad News: The vote passed by 31-30.

The Good News: The Vestry accepted your job description the way you wrote it.  The Bad News: They were so inspired by it they formed a search committee to find somebody capable of filling the position.

The Good News: Church attendance rose dramatically the last three weeks.  The Bad News: You were on vacation.

The Good News: The Vestry voted to pay your airfare for an oversea mission trip.  The Bad News: They are stalling with the payment until war breaks out in the country.

The Good News: Your women’s softball team finally won a game.  The Bad News: They beat your men’s softball team.

John Brandon is a contributing editor for Inc.com.  He wrote an article for Inc about how people react to bad news.  In it he describes these scenarios:

The client just called.  He is not going to renew.

At a tech conference, your boss tells everyone in the group you are not pulling your weight.

You come back to your desk to find a pink slip.

What do you do when you receive bad news? 

I know many of you have sat in your doctor’s office and heard her say, “The tests came back and I have some bad news…”  I remember in 2007 and 2008 how common it was to turn on the TV and hear “There is more bad news today about the stock market.”  We got some bad news at St. Paul’s two weeks ago and it came in the form of a broken pipe and water cascading down from the kitchen ceiling.

What do you do when you get bad news?

In the Gospel of Mark, before Jesus begins his public ministry he hears some bad news.  He learns John the Baptist has been imprisoned by Herod Antipas, the Roman tetrarch of Galilee.  John publically rebuked Herod for his many faults and moral failings; a lengthy list to be sure, which includes marring his brother’s wife.  John’s scathing criticism lands him in prison and Jesus must know it will not end well.

Just a few verses earlier in Mark’s gospel Jesus makes a long pilgrimage from Nazareth to the Jordon River to be baptized by John.  After this the text tells us he goes into the wilderness for forty days.  Then Mark says, “After John was arrested…”  He doesn’t tell us how much time has passed, only what Jesus does next is in response to this bad news. 

Mark says, “After John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee.”  So Jesus returns to his home region, to an area ruled by the very person who has John imprisoned.  If this does not seem wise to you neither will what Jesus does next.  Jesus himself begins to speak publically.  Mark tells us that in response to the bad news of John’s arrest, Jesus proclaims “the good news of God.”

Perhaps you battle a natural urge to shutdown in the face of bad news.  It is easy to feel overwhelmed and overmatched.  When the kitchen pipe broke and gallons upon gallons of water was falling from multiple places in the church’s newly remodeled kitchen and pantry I was aware I was not dealing with it well.  I was also aware of six or seven people around me who were.  They captured water in trashcans, called the fire department to get the water shut off, and, once the water stopped, began to clear off counters and shelves in order to dry off every wet thing and surface.  For the most part, I stood by in a fog contemplating the disaster at hand and wondering how much havoc is was going to wreak on the schedule of events involving the kitchen. 

What do you do when you receive bad news… give up or get going?

John Brandon, the Inc editor, faced this very question.  He writes:

One of the worst days of my life was when I was ousted from a corporate job.  I drove home that night and my wife came up with the idea of being a writer.  I jumped into action.  I’m not saying I was all that confident at the time, but it was a lesson for me.  I pounded the pavement for weeks and months.  I reacted [to bad news] with action.  It’s a good thing, because I’ve been writing ever since.

I am consistently impressed with how members of this parish refuse to take bad health news laying down.  You educate yourself about various diagnoses, treatment options, community resources, and all the things you can do to put yourself in the best position to be healthy and cured.  And once you are healthy and cured you find ways to reach out and support others who are just beginning the journey after receiving their bad news.

A team of psychologists studied why some people react to bad news with confidence while others do not.  They determined people quit when they are uncertain about their own ability to produce a desired result or when they are uncertain their actions with will lead to a desired effect.  They offer two definitions that, while technical, are insightful.  The first is world-certainty and uncertainty:

We define world-certainty as the feeling that desirable outcomes can be achieved and undesirable ones avoided because the path connecting means and ends is clearly predictable and stable.

The more you understand the situation the more confident you are taking action.

The second term is self-certainty:

We define self-certainty as the feeling that one can learn and follow the steps associated with achieving one’s goals, and self-uncertainty as feeling doubtful that one can learn and follow the steps associated with such goals.

The more you believe in yourself the more likely you will initiate an effort to make a situation better.

We people of faith might add to these God-certainty.  We believe God is engaged with us and at work in this world to create a community where God’s dream for all people and all creation is normative.  This is what we call the good news.  And we people of faith are certain God’s good news may be challenged by the world’s bad news, but it is never overcome by it. 

The comedian Tracy Morgan observes “Bad news travels at the speed of light; good news travels like molasses.”  For Jesus, bad news sparks the opportunity to proclaim good news.  He launches a ministry to preach and teach God is good and gracious and God is with us and for us.  Jesus invites others to follow him, people who find his vision of life so compelling they drop everything they are doing to learn more about it.  Eventually they make it their personal mission to proclaim this good news as far and wide as humanly possible.

We are a people of good news.  For some time I have struggled with the image of the kingdom of God because (1) we don’t live in the kingdom so it is difficult to connect with this idea and (2) kingdom seems to imply everyone is a part of it and clearly there are many disinterested in God’s sovereign reign in this world and claim on their lives.  More and more I am warming up to the image of community as a better way to envision God’s presence in the world.  We at St. Paul’s are a community of God’s people who proclaim the good news through what we say and what we do.  We live it with and for one another and as a witness to the world.  And we invite and welcome everyone to be a part of our fellowship of God’s good news.

Following Jesus

An office manager buys a sign at a novelty store and hangs it on his office door.  It reads, “I am the boss.”  When he comes to work the next day he discovers someone has stuck a post-it note on his sign and written on it this message: “Your wife called and she wants her sign back.”

On the Second Sunday after the Epiphany the appointed Lectionary reading always tells a story about Jesus inviting people to follow him.  I had a professor who defined a leader as being a person who will take a group to a place it cannot get on its own.  I always thought this is a good definition of leadership – the ability to take people to a place they cannot get on their own.  Think about the people in leadership roles in your life and consider how they do or do not fit this definition.  Think about the leadership roles you fill and ponder if it applies.

Here is another question for you to ponder: In what ways are you a follower?  Being labeled a “follower” has a negative feel to it.  When we say, “Oh, he is a follower” we are implying the person does not have leadership potential.  We talk about being a “blind follower”, which is not a good thing either.  Still, good and capable followers are absolutely essential to the success of any enterprise.  Did you happen to see the PBS program this week on Teddy Roosevelt’s journey down an uncharted river in the heart of the Amazon jungle?  Roosevelt was a co-leader on the expedition, but it was supported by dozens of native people.  Without the efforts of these followers the ex-president would never have been successful.  In fact, he would have died.

American businessman Max de Pree contends “the signs of outstanding leadership appear primarily among the followers.”  He asks,

Are the followers reaching their potential?  Are they learning?  Serving?  Do they achieve the required results?  Do they change with grace?  Manage conflict?

Following, at its best, is an active and engaged process where we allow a person to shape and develop us in ways we could not grow on our own.

When Jesus invites Philip to follow him he is initiating a relationship where Philip will be molded and shaped into a new person.  He will learn to live as Jesus lives, to love as Jesus loves, to forgive as Jesus forgives, to heal as Jesus heals, to inspire hope as Jesus inspires hope.  Jesus’ leadership is transformational.  He leads Philip and the other disciples to a place where they become new people.  And, as new people, they become leaders themselves, attracting followers who they then mold and shape into the image of Jesus.

This morning we initiate Sadie Grace McNett into the Christian faith and life.  Because she is not old enough to speak for herself her parents and sponsors are making vows on her behalf.  By so doing, they are taking a leadership role in her life.  If no one ever intervened, it is doubtful Sadie would grow up on her own to be the kind of person we aspire to be through our baptismal liturgy.  It will be up to Cory and Chloe and the rest of the family to help her develop in ways she cannot develop on her own. 

Jimmy Collins retired from Chick-fil-A as President and Chief Operations Officer after 32 years of service.  He was there at the beginning when S. Truett Cathy opened the very first store and he helped him build the franchise into a $6 billion business.  In 2013, Collins published a book about his experience titled Creative Followership: In the Shadow of Greatness.  It is chock full of common sense insights about being a follower and it has much to say to those of us who are committed to following Jesus:

· Followers choose to follow a leader with a compelling purpose, vision, cause, or goal, the unifying purpose.  It is the leader’s unifying purpose that attracts the interest and loyalty of followers.  The unifying purpose joins the followers to the leader.

· Who we are is who we attract.   If the leader is highly effective with equally high expectations, the follower must possess similar character traits or the relationship will be short lived.

· When following, our competencies will often be very different from the leader.   This allows our strengths to offset the leader’s weakness.   But when it comes to character, we must always be in alignment.

· A trusted and established follower shares the reputation of the leader, as well as much of the leader’s influence.

· A supportive follower realizes they are there not only to share the leader’s reputation, but also to uphold and strengthen the leader’s reputation.  Followers should always serve as an extension of the leader. 

· With influence comes a great deal of responsibility.

· When we are borrowing influence from a leader, we are responsible for using it with the highest integrity.

· As we demonstrate the ability to use the influence to move the organization forward in a positive and productive way, we will be loaned more and more influence.  The key to gaining more influence is to proactively accept responsibility by doing things better than expected, before they are expected, and by doing more than is expected.

When David Marquet, a decorated Navy officer, was appointed captain of the USS Santa Fe, it was the worst performing nuclear-powered submarine in the fleet.  The ship’s crew was dogged by poor morale and an abysmal retention rate.  About a month into his duties, while leading the crew through a series of drills, Marquet unknowingly gave an order that was impossible to follow, but the crew tried to follow it anyway.  Upon reviewing the results of the exercise, Marquet asked why no one challenged his order.  The response, “Because you told us to do it.”  In an instant Marquet realized he was leading a culture of followers who were not invested in the outcome of the ship’s performance.

He began to push for leadership at every level of the Santa Fe’s crew.  Grounded in his belief “Leadership should mean giving control rather than taking control and creating leaders rather than forging followers”, Marquet molded the crew into a group fully engaged in every decision from clerical tasks to combat actions.  Eventually the ship began to earn fleet awards and have officers promoted to higher positions of command on other submarines.

Think about the things Collins and Marquet believe about followers and translate them into imperatives for Christian discipleship.  We are drawn to Jesus by his compelling vision of life.  His vision binds us together.  Jesus expects much of us.  We bear his reputation and his influence.  As such, we have great opportunities and great responsibility.  People have a right to expect they will meet and see Jesus in us.  Far from being a passive enterprise, following Jesus requires us to be actively engaged in every aspect of life and faith and church.  As St. Teresa says, we now are Christ’s hands and Christ’s feet and Christ’s body on earth.  I don’t know if Philip understood all of this when he accepted Jesus’ invitation to follow him, but in time he (and the other disciples) began to understand.  I don’t know if you understood this at your baptism or even at your confirmation, but I trust you get it now.  Jesus is a leader who takes you to a place you cannot get on your own.

Is It True?

Is it true?  Is it true?

I cannot imagine a more dramatic swing in tone and content from the gospel reading on Christmas Eve to the gospel reading this morning.  On Christmas Eve we heard Luke’s heart-warming story of a birth and a manger and angels and shepherds.  It is the stuff of carols and TV specials.  This morning we listen to the soaring and majestic language of a portion of Scripture known as the prologue of John’s gospel. 

“In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God.” 

It is an incredible claim.

While Luke tells us the baby is the Son of God and that this child will do extraordinary, fantastic things, it is still possible to image Jesus to be someone like you and me.  After all, we too are children of God.  It is easy enough to think of Jesus as being just like us with the only difference being his life and his deeds are more special than yours and mine – sort of like George Washington and I are both Americans, only his life is measurably way more important than mine.  You might be able to walk away from Christmas Eve thinking about the baby Jesus in this way.  But, it is an option taken off the table this morning. 

“He was in the beginning with God.  All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being.” 

John presents us with a reality that smashes to pieces any notion Christmas is a just light, gentle, fluffy, sentimental moment to be celebrated with family and friends.  For John, the Incarnation is a cosmic event having the Creative Force responsible for all reality becoming one of us in order to bring light into the darkness of our making. 

“And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory of the father’s only son, full of grace and truth.”

Today’s reading challenges us to reassess our assumptions about the Incarnation; to ask who this baby is and what the purpose of his birth might be.  The British poet John Betjeman beautifully captures all of this in his poem Christmas:

The bells of waiting Advent ring,
The Tortoise stove is lit again
And lamp-oil light across the night
Has caught the streaks of winter rain
In many a stained-glass window sheen
From Crimson Lake to Hookers Green.

The holly in the windy hedge
And round the Manor House the yew
Will soon be stripped to deck the ledge,
The altar, font and arch and pew,
So that the villagers can say
‘The church looks nice’ on Christmas Day.

Provincial Public Houses blaze,
Corporation tramcars clang,
On lighted tenements I gaze,
Where paper decorations hang,
And bunting in the red Town Hall
Says ‘Merry Christmas to you all’.

And London shops on Christmas Eve
Are strung with silver bells and flowers
As hurrying clerks the City leave
To pigeon-haunted classic towers,
And marbled clouds go scudding by
The many-steepled London sky.

And girls in slacks remember Dad,
And oafish louts remember Mum,
And sleepless children’s hearts are glad.
And Christmas-morning bells say ‘Come!’
Even to shining ones who dwell
Safe in the Dorchester Hotel.

And is it true, is it true,
This most tremendous tale of all,
Seen in a stained-glass window’s hue,
A Baby in an ox’s stall ?
The Maker of the stars and sea
Become a Child on earth for me ?

And is it true ? For if it is,
No loving fingers tying strings
Around those tissued fripperies,
The sweet and silly Christmas things,
Bath salts and inexpensive scent
And hideous tie so kindly meant,

No love that in a family dwells,
No carolling in frosty air,
Nor all the steeple-shaking bells
Can with this single Truth compare -
That God was man in Palestine
And lives today in Bread and Wine.

It is easy to get caught up in all the trimmings and trappings of Christmas and never once give thought to what it is all about.  It is easy, as we say, to have the experience, but miss the meaning.  God in the flesh has come into God’s creation to show us how to live and move and have our being in the world as God intends it to be.  Jesus comes into the world he has made – a world we have made into a broken down, dark, and selfish place – to be a bright and restorative light.  It is a light, as Betjeman observes, we receive every time we partake of the bread and wine.

We leave the church on Christmas Eve with joy in our hearts, humming the tune of a carol in our head.  This morning, if you are really listening, you should leave this service with a question: Is it true?  Not true in the sense of did this really happen, but true in the sense of is this really what it means.  If John gets it right in the beginning of his gospel, we are living in a reality made new by God’s Incarnation in our world. 

“To all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God… From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.”

Is it true?  Is it true?

The Angels' Song

If you know me at all you know I am a big fan of Christmas music.  According to the iTunes file on my home computer, I have 2,086 Christmas songs and it would take four days and seven hours to listen to all of it.  Care to guess the Christmas song of which I have the most different versions?

·    God rest ye merry gentlemen – 27

·    Have yourself a merry little Christmas – 31

·    Jingle Bells – 32

·    Silent Night – 57

You may be interested to know carols have been around for thousands of years.  The first are sung at pagan celebrations of the Winter Solstice.  Early Christians begin to supplant this ancient tradition with one of their own.  By the year 129 A.D. a bishop directs a song called Angel’s Hymn is to be at a Christmas service in Rome.  This new tradition continues to grow and expand over the centuries, but by the Middle Ages people lose interest in Christmas altogether.  St. Francis creates a revival in celebrating Christmas in 1223 when he begins to stage Nativity Plays throughout Italy.  These productions include songs and canticles and with this Christmas carols begins to spread throughout Europe once again.  Oliver Cromwell and his Puritan regime put an official stop to caroling in England for a brief period of time, but even then the faithful meet in secrete to sing.  The Victorian era sees a resurgence of caroling which has grown and expanded undiminished to our own time.

Singing, it seems to me, is the language of Christmas.  Dr. Seuss knows this because after the Grinch steals all the presents and holiday trappings from Whoville, his heart melts when he hears the undeterred joyfully residents signing carols.   The tradition of singing at Christmas dates all the way back to the chorus of heavenly hosts on the holy night of our Lord’s birth.  I wonder what it sounded like.  And I wonder why only a few shepherds hear it.  Surly the radiant throng singing praise to God has some heft to its volume.  So why do only a few people hear it?  Edmund Sears, a Unitarian minister of the 19^th Century, might suggest this as an answer: only the shepherds hear because they are the only one’s listening.  Everyone else is asleep or distracted. 
Edmund Sears is thought to be the author of the first Christmas Carol written in America.  Titled The Angel’s Song, it first appeared in print on December 29, 1849.  We now refer to it by its first line, “It came upon a midnight clear.”  At the time he writes it, Sears is troubled by the outbreak of war in Europe while America is still recovering from its own costly conflict with Mexico.   

It came upon the midnight clear,

that glorious song of old,

from angels bending near the earth

to touch their harps of gold!

“Peace on the earth, good will to men,

from heaven’s all gracious King!”

The world in solemn stillness lay

to hear the angels sing.

We understand Sear’s longing for peace on earth and good will among all people.  It is timeless, as deeply desired today as it was 168 years ago.

In his carol, Sears contends angels continue to sing in our own day, but we are not listening:  

Still through the cloven skies they come

with peaceful wings unfurled

and still their heavenly music floats

o’er all the weary world;

above its sad and lowly plains

they bend on hovering wing.

And ever o’er its Babel sounds

the blessed angels sing.

Yet with the woes of sin and strife

the world hath suffered long;

beneath the angel-strain have rolled

two thousand years of wrong;

and man, at war with man, hears not

the love song which they bring:

O hush the noise, ye men of strife,

and hear the angels sing.

At every celebration of the Eucharist, we join our voices with angels, archangels, and all the company of heaven who forever are singing a hymn of praise to God, so I think Sears is on to something.  Ever hovering over our world, the heavenly host continues to sing the message of Christ’s birth – peace on earth and good will.  It is a song too few hear because too few listen for it.  

Regrettably, the fourth verse of the carol is omitted from our hymnal.  It speaks directly to each person who is burdened and worn out by life; to every person on the verge of giving up and giving in:

And ye, beneath life’s crushing load,

whose forms are bending low,

who toil along the climbing way

with painful steps and slow,

look now! for glad and golden hours

come swiftly on the wing.

O rest beside the weary road,

and hear the angels sing!

I think one the reasons I love Christmas music is because, as Sears suggests, it has a power to rejuvenate, to remind us of our better angels, and to rekindle a hopeful, heaven-born dream for our time.  It is why we love so dearly to come to this place on this night and sing. 

Sears concludes his carol with a conviction one day the angels’ song will be heard and sung by everyone.

For lo! the days are hastening on,

by prophet bards foretold,

when, with the ever-circling years,

shall come the Age of Gold;

when peace shall over all the earth

its ancient splendors fling,

and all the world give back the song

which now the angels sing.

Tonight I invite you to listen for the angels’ song, to let its message fill you with joy while instilling in you abiding hope for the day to come.  I invite you to welcome God’s peace into your life and encourage you to extend good will whenever and wherever possible.  I invite you to listen to the angels in the pews around you as we sing.  And I invite you to sing yourself. 

Let me leave you with a verse by Mildred L. Jarrell:

Let us have music for Christmas…

sound the trumpet of joy and rebirth;

let each of us try, with a song in our hearts,

to bring peace to all on earth.

Mary - the First Disicple

We shift our focus to Mary on this Fourth and final Sunday of Advent.  You may not have noticed, but other than in the Gospel of Luke Mary is scarcely mentioned.  In Mark, her most significant moment is when she assumes Jesus has lost his mind and attempts to take home.  Matthew records she goes to the empty tomb.  Although Mary appears at various points, John never mentions her by name and Paul never mentions her at all.

Only Luke gives us insight into Mary’s Immaculate Conception.  More than exalting her as the theotokos – the God-bearer – and more than presenting her as an ideal model of motherhood and womanhood, Luke presents Mary as the model for Christian discipleship.  Her response to Gabriel’s startling and surely demanding announcement is “Let it be to me according your word”.  Hers is a humble and obedient acceptance of God’s will. 

Gabriel’s proclamation Jesus will be called the Son of the Most High, will be given the throne of David, and will reign over a kingdom having no end, fits into the pattern of older biblical stories where the birth of an important figure is foretold.  We see it with the births of Ishmael and Isaac in the Book of Genesis as well as the birth of Samson in the Book of Judges.  Similarities between these stories and the one we read today suggest the focus of this passage should be on the child who is to be born.

But many scholars also note Luke’s story follows the form of an Old Testament “call” narrative, where a specific individual is approached by a heavenly being and commissioned for a specific task.  These accounts have a particular pattern and typically contain the following elements:

· a greeting

· a startled reaction

· an exhortation not to fear

· a divine commission

· an objection

· a reassurance

· the offer of a confirming sign

Mary’s response, “Here I am, the servant of the Lord”, echoes the words of the Samuel when he accepts his commission to be a prophet.  For Luke, Mary is blessed not because she will give birth to God’s child, but because she believes God’s word and accepts God’s will – the hallmark of discipleship.

Jesus will point to this several times during his public ministry.  In Luke 8:21, Jesus teaches, “My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and do it.”  In Luke 11:28-29, a person in the crowd shouts out to Jesus, “Blessed is the womb that bore you, and the breasts that nursed you.”  In a culture where the worth of a mother is determined by the importance of her male children, the comment suggests Mary’s value rests on the greatness of her son.  Jesus’ response, like most of his teaching, is counter-cultural, “Blessed rather are those who hear God’s word and obey it!”  Jesus believes his mother is blessed because she is a faithful disciple.

Perhaps you are getting the idea Luke presents Mary as a person for us to emulate.  Each one of us has received a call and commission through baptism into the Christian faith and life.  Some of us have had this call fine-tuned and focused.  All of us try to live out our faith through the work we do and the relationships we foster.  As Mary will find, at times discipleship is difficult and demanding.  Still, our response of “let it be to me according to God’s word” is the only path to a life made rich with God’s blessing.

Greg Manalli, a former insurance agent and the founder of the Fellowship of Life Church in England, says, “The dullness that overshadows a passive person is increased by the mounting number of times one doesn’t respond to the promptings of God.”  In other words, if you put your life on cruise control most likely you will end up restless and bored out of your mind.  But if you accept God’s call to follow, to obey, and to act, you are in for a thrill ride beyond imagining.  The Presbyterian minister John Ortberg says, “The decision to grow always involves a choice between risk and comfort.  This means that to be a follower of Jesus you must renounce comfort as the ultimate value of your life.” 

We see both of these truths at work in Mary.  Her life becomes rich, full, and at times downright uncomfortable.  Through her acceptance of God’s word, she becomes the first disciple of the Christian era.  And she continues to inspire and inform disciples today.

Gaudete

While the early history is uncertain, some say the observance of the Advent season begins with Peter and the first Apostles.  Without question, it is being practiced by the late 5^th Century.  Not many years later Advent begins on the Sunday after St. Martin’s Day, November 11, thus making it six weeks long, not four.  It is a season of penitence and fasting and comes to be known as St. Martin’s Lent.  Originally the faithful are implored to fast three times a week, but the hyper-devout abstain even more often, perhaps feasting only on Sundays.  The parallels between Advent and Lent continue to grow.  At one point, Advent fasting is extended to the Day of the Epiphany (January 6), thus making this season (like Lent) forty days long. 

And just as its rigors are eased on the Fourth Sunday in Lent, known as Laetare Sunday (also known as Refreshment and Mothering Sunday), so too the Third Sunday of Advent becomes a day to celebrate in the midst of an austere liturgical season.  It becomes known as Gaudete Sunday, gaudete being Latin for “Rejoice in the Lord”.  Laetare is Latin for “Rejoice, Jerusalem”.  Each is the first word from the Introit assigned for the day.  Both days become associated with the color of rose, which symbolizes joy.  So today we light the rose candle in the Advent wreath.  (The church I served in Iowa had rose-colored vestments and appointments, which it brought out every year on these two Sundays.  Wearing a large, pink chasuble, I always thought I looked like a flamingo when I celebrated on these two days.)  Over time, Advent is shortened to four weeks with less and less emphasis on penitence and fasting.  Still, the DNA of Gaudete Sunday remains intact and today beckons us to rejoice.

Or, to put it more accurately, we are told to rejoice!  St. Paul: “Rejoice always”, spoken in the imperative as if it is a commandment.  I don’t know about you, but I often have an adverse reaction to being told how I should feel.  Stop worrying!  Be happy!  Don’t cry!  Often times these things are easier to say than to do.

Growing up in Northeast Ohio I became a fan of all sports Cleveland.  And as John Rector Jr. pointed out several years ago in THE last youth sermon ever allowed by me, Cleveland sports teams have a long, deep, miserable tradition of being not very good.  On the rare occasion when one of Cleveland’s teams does get good, it finds an epic way to break the hearts of its fans. 

When I was a teenager the worst Cleveland team - hands down - was the baseball team, the Cleveland Indians.  I went to several games a year in the cavernous Municipal Stadium, where a typical crowd of around 4,000 people dissipated throughout a dank, dreary, double-deck space with a seating capacity of 78,000.  Year in and year out, teams like the Yankees, Red Sox, Orioles, and Tigers came to town and demolished the Tribe. 

Sitting in the stands during a typical game, with the Tribe trailing by 6 runs in the third inning, someone somewhere sitting at the console of an organ hidden deep in the bowls of the stadium plays out a familiar tune: da-da-da-da-te-da.  Perhaps forty-some fans respond half-heartedly, “Charge.”  Again, the organ calls out: da-da-da-da-te-da.  Though still feeble, this time a few more fans join in, “Charge.”  A third time: da-da-da-da-te-da, “Charge” rings out, but with barely the muster to wake a sleeping household pet from its slumber.  And then the Cleveland batter strikes out and the side is retired and we are that much closer to the inevitable defeat.

That organ sound, imploring us to yell “Charge” in the midst of hopelessness and defeat, comes back to me on this Gaudete Sunday when we are told to rejoice always.  Rejoice always?  Why?  How can we rejoice when there is so much to lament?  Life in general today feels so much like being a fan of the Cleveland Indians back in the day.  The starting pitcher gets hurt.  The promising rookie never pans out.  Our best player is going to be traded to the Yankees for a busted down veteran and a prospect who never amounts to anything.  We can’t execute a double play or lay down a bunt to advance a runner.  This is what all of life feels like: depressing, hopeless, and futile, yet today the Church tells us gaudete, rejoice always.  Why?

Try and imagine this.  What if you are sitting in that old stadium watching your miserable team playing miserably on a typical miserable Cleveland weather day, and suddenly you receive an astonishing vision and promise: this batter at the plate is going to get the hit that will start the rally that will win the game that will launch the winning streak that will catapult us to first place that will culminate with winning the World Series.  Imagine this vision is so deep and so real it consumes you, filling you with faith and hope and joy and peace.  When the organist plays, da-da-da-da-te-da, how are you going to respond?  You will yell “Charge!” with everything you have.  And batter after batter, game after game, win after win, your capacity to yell “Charge” will deepen and expand in ways you never imagined as what you long for continues to unfold.

Perhaps this image will help you to get your head around Gaudete Sunday.  We rejoice always not because of what is happening right now, but because of what we believe will happen.  The season of Advent anticipates the final return of Christ when all things will be restored and made new.  It also prepares us for God to break into our world in new ways through the Incarnation of God’s child and encourages us to see and sense how a successful stolen base is a harbinger of good things to come. 

You may find it interesting to know two things about today’s Epistle reading.  First, it is taken from the oldest text in the New Testament, written before any other of Paul’s letters and well before each of the Gospels.  Thus gaudete - rejoice always - is one of the very first instructions given to the church.  And second, like the other imperatives in the reading - pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances, test everything, hold fast to what is good, and abstain from evil - rejoice always is written in the plural, not the singular.  The gathering of the faithful is to be marked by rejoicing, prayer, giving thanks, and thoughtful discernment around what is good and what is to be rejected.  While our own personal ability to do any or all of these things may wane from time to time, the church exists to rejoice, pray, give thanks, and discern.

Our ability to rejoice is not dependent on external conditions around us.  God does not say, “Take a look at what is going on in your life, in your family, in your community, in your society, and in your world and rejoice.”  God says, “Here is what I promise to you and what I promise I will do.”  We rejoice in what God promises and wait for it with expectant hope. 

I love the magnificent 126^th Psalm, which we read just moments ago:

When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, *

then were we like those who dream.

Then was our mouth filled with laughter, *

and our tongue with shouts of joy.

Though I love it, I have one small criticism of it.  For the psalmist, the ability to dream of a better world comes only after God has restored the fortunes of God’s people.  The laughter and the joy come only after God has acted, but never in anticipation God will act.  Unlike the poet of the psalm, we have the advantage of Easter.  We are a people of the Resurrection who have witnessed the full power of God to act in our world.  We are confident in God’s promise for the world to come and hope for the day it will be done on earth as it is heaven.

Is that day here now?  Certainly not.  Is it near?  Well, I would say we are closer to God’s dream for all people than ever before.  Do we have a distance still to go?  Certainly, but God promises we will get there because God’s Spirit is at work in and through God’s people.  So, on this Gaudete Sunday we hear the rally cry to rejoice always: da-da-da-da-te-da.  Our response is a spirited, “Charge!”