The Church of St. Paul & Incarnation, Jersey City NJ
December 15, 2019
Year A: The Third
Sunday of Advent
Isaiah 35:1-10
Canticle 15
James 5:7-10
Matthew 11:2-11
“Interruptions”
Today
we have reached the third Sunday of our Advent journey.
When
we started out two weeks ago, we talked about the need to make room for the
journey.
And
last week we talked about how important it is for our journey to have directions,
to have a direction.
And
now on this Third Sunday of Advent, what’s called Gaudete Sunday from a Latin
word meaning “rejoice,” on this third Sunday of our journey we switch our
colors from blue to rose (not pink!), signaling that it’s almost Christmas,
that our Advent journey is drawing to a close.
But,
you know how it is with journeys: sometimes it feels like they get interrupted.
In
the last week and a half, we have experienced some traumatic events, endured
some terrible losses – and these tragedies may seem to have interrupted our
Advent journey.
First
was the terrible car crash that happened early in the morning just around the
corner from here on a particularly dangerous curve of Kennedy Boulevard: a
yellow cab and an SUV collided while apparently traveling at very high speeds,
leaving the SUV overturned and the cab crushed, leading to the death of one
person, serious injuries for the others, and even more fear for those of us who
walk along or drive on the Boulevard.
Then,
a taxi dispatcher and driver named Michael Rumberger was found dead in the
trunk of a car in Bayonne.
And
then, on what seemed like a routine Tuesday afternoon in Jersey City, all hell
broke loose with gunfire that sounded like something out of a war movie, fear
and confusion all around, the death of Detective Joseph Seals, and the deaths
in the kosher deli of Leah Mindel Ferencz, who co-owned it; Moshe Deutsch, who
was a customer; and Douglas Miguel Rodriguez, an Ecuadorian immigrant who
worked there.
Sirens
screamed for hours. Helicopters chopped relentlessly overhead.
Students
and teachers hunkered down in their classrooms and parents waited fearfully for
the all clear, when they could finally reunite with their children.
That
feeling of terror and the unknown, the wondering if this was the start of
something bigger, the recognition that after today nothing would be quite the
same, made 12/10 feel to me like a miniature 9/11.
And
after the blood stopped flowing, we learned a story of two misguided and
seemingly lost people apparently determined to inflict has much pain and
suffering on people whose ways they didn’t like.
It’s
a story that makes us wonder once again at the depths of hate, the wideness of
the gaps between us, at how little rejoicing there is among us, and just how
far we are from the transformed world envisioned by the Prophet Isaiah.
If
you were here last week, you may remember that we were reintroduced to one of
the central characters of Advent, John the Baptist.
We
saw John dressed in a way that reminded people of Elijah, while eating his
“non-processed” foods of locusts and wild honey. We heard about John calling
people to change their hearts and minds, calling on people to repent, and
dunking them in the Jordan as a powerful symbol of a fresh start, a new
direction.
Last
week, I wondered at John’s success, at his ability to draw big crowds, despite
– or maybe because of – his challenging message.
But,
that kind of success can be risky, attracting the suspicious attention of the
powers that be: government officials and religious leaders who are always determined
to hold on to their own authority and willing to eliminate any rivals.
And
so in today’s gospel lesson, we find John in a different situation, no longer
attracting crowds to the Jordan and no longer baptizing.
John
is in prison.
Like
for anyone in prison, for John and his disciples, it may have felt like his
journey had been cruelly interrupted.
And,
although John had earlier recognized Jesus as “the one,” now he seems to be
having second thoughts, so he sends some of his disciples to Jesus, asking the
sad question, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?”
Jesus
replies with a list of the good works he had been doing - restoring sight,
mobility, health, and even life – works that had long been associated with the
expected Messiah.
We’re
not told whether John was convinced by any of this.
He
may not have been, because, after all, we know that when it feels like everything
is going wrong, when it seems like the journey of our lives has been
interrupted, we may simply give up on seeing the goodness and love of God at
work in the world around us.
But,
God is still at work.
God is still at
work even when – especially when – everything seems to have gone wrong,
So, Tuesday was a
terrible, terrible day, but in the midst of so much horror, all across our city
school administrators and teachers remained with their students for many hours,
offering them as much calm and comfort as possible. I think especially of the
yeshiva right next door to the deli and Sacred Heart School at the corner, where
students and teachers were bombarded with the sound of gunfire, with some
bullets hitting the masonry and puncturing the glass of the school building.
On Tuesday, police
officers and other law enforcement were at their best, swinging into action,
using all of their training and equipment and, most of all, drawing upon incredible
courage, working to end the crisis and certainly saving many lives.
On Wednesday
night, at Temple Beth-El it was standing-room only as government officials and
people from across the city and beyond, all kinds of people, people of many
faiths and no particular faith, gathered to pray and reflect, to sing, and to
insist that we are not going to let hate and violence divide us, promising to
work hard to bridge gaps and build up trust among all people.
Like John the
Baptist, we may have entered the Temple feeling like our lives had been horribly
interrupted, that everything had gone wrong.
We may have given
up on seeing God at work.
But God was most
definitely at work that night.
And God has
continued to be at work in the days since, as people have gathered for other
vigils, as people from near and far donated many thousands of dollars to help
the families left behind, and as the widow of Douglas Miguel Hernandez called
us all to love one another and saying that she forgave the people who killed
her husband.
God is still at
work even when – especially when – everything seems to have gone wrong,
Meanwhile, here at
home, it had felt like our Advent journey – my Advent journey – was interrupted
by the sudden illness and death of our dear sister Lois Gomez.
I hadn’t counted
on spending so much time in the hospital over the past week and a half, and
neither had Lois, Luis, or their family.
We hadn’t expected
that this was going to be the end of Lois’ earthly journey, that she was about
to return to the God who dreamed her up and held her up throughout the good and
not so good times.
But, during this
“interruption” I could see God so clearly at work, giving a loving family the
strength to make difficult decisions, helping them to draw on Lois’ profound
faith and their own faith to help hold them together, giving them more strength
than they might have ever imagined.
On Monday night as
most of her family and I were squeezed into the little ICU room and Lois began
to take her last few shallow breaths, Luis began to sing in a surprisingly
strong voice, singing as his wife completed her journey, singing to the Virgin
Mary who was surely waiting to welcome our sister into heaven.
It was not the
place that any of us had expected to be, or wanted to be, on Monday night. It
was an interruption of our usual lives but such a beautiful moment in Lois’
journey and in all of our journeys.
And, at that
moment, during what we thought was a terrible “interruption,” we saw God at
work.
We glimpsed the
transformed world.
We tasted the
kingdom of heaven.
We previewed our
final destination.
And, even in the
midst of our sadness, even through our tears, we rejoiced.
Amen.
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