St. Paul’s Church in
Bergen, Jersey City NJ
December 13, 2015
Year C: The Third
Sunday of Advent
Zephaniah 3:14-20
Canticle 9: The First
Song of Isaiah (12:2-6)
Philippians 4:4-7
Luke 3:7-18
Rejoice! The Lord is Near!
“Rejoice
in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to
everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by
prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to
God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your
hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”
Amen.
You
may remember that a week ago Friday, we had a concert here at St. Paul’s. It
featured a young soprano, accompanied on the organ and piano, singing classical
and folk pieces with Advent and Christmas themes.
It
was one of the most beautiful events we’ve had here at St. Paul’s. She sang
like an angel in our beautiful church.
It
was also probably the worst attended event we’ve had here since I’ve been rector.
I think there were only eight people present – and one of those was the
soprano’s husband!
At
first, I was disappointed and embarrassed that so few people came, but,
fortunately, the soprano seemed unfazed and said that she’s a big believer in
singing with the same care and passion no matter audience size, something that
I can relate to for church.
And,
honestly, once she began, I was transported – I think we all were – and I no
longer cared, and maybe even forgot for a few minutes, that the church was
nearly empty.
Today
we have reached the third Sunday of Advent – the third Sunday in this four
Sunday-long season of preparation – the third Sunday of preparation for the
birth of Jesus in great humility two thousand years ago – the third Sunday in
preparation for the return of Christ in glory.
Many
of you know that, in the past, Advent was a more penitential season – more like
Lent – than it is now.
In
more recent times the Church has chosen to soften that part of Advent. One sign
of that change has been the shift here at St. Paul’s and in many Episcopal
churches from purple to blue as the color of Advent.
Blue
is traditionally the color of hope and also traditionally the color associated
with that most important Advent figure, the Virgin Mary.
But,
whether purple or blue, there has long been a tradition on the third Sunday of
Advent to switch to rose as a kind of easing up on the penitential side of
Advent, signaling that, while we still have a way to go, soon enough it will be
Christmas.
In
fact, traditionally, today is called “Gaudete Sunday,” from a Latin word
meaning “rejoice.”
As
St. Paul’s writes to the church in Philippi, “Rejoice! The Lord is near!”
Say
it with me: “Rejoice! The Lord is near!”
But…you
don’t need me to tell you that there hasn’t been much rejoicing going on in the
world or in our country or in our city lately.
We’ve
been at war for fourteen years now, though, if we’re fortunate enough, we may
sometimes forget that. Since the September 11 attacks, we’ve sent our finest men
and women to fight, and often suffer horrific injuries and sometimes die in the
mountains of Afghanistan and the streets of Baghdad and other seemingly God-forsaken places.
We’ve
flown our fighter jets to the other side of the world – we’ve piloted our
drones from control centers many thousands of miles away – to rain down
warfare, sometimes killing the guilty and the dangerous, sometimes inadvertently
hitting innocent bystanders or even hospitals.
Today, US military bases ring the entire planet.
This
has all been going on for a long time now and yet somehow we’re still at least
a little surprised when the war arrives on our own shores, surprised when an
armed to the teeth husband and wife drop off their six month-old baby and head
over to his office holiday party and open fire.
And,
as you don’t need me to remind you, that incident has brought out the worst in some
of us – the fear of the “other,” the fear of those who dress, or speak, or
worship differently – and actions that result from fear that violate our own
basic principles and, ironically, only strengthen those who seek us harm.
No,
there hasn’t been a whole lot of rejoicing going on in the world or in our
country.
And
then there’s our city.
We’re
all aware of – and I’ve spoken a lot about – the violence that plagues our
city, especially in the southern and western parts.
This
time last week we were just getting some of the details about the murder of
Troy Brandon who was stabbed to death just a few blocks away at Monticello and
Storms – so close that some of our neighbors on this block could hear the
screams - killed as he came the aid of an assault victim.
And,
this past week we had shots fired outside Dickinson High School, which some of
our kids attend and right across the street from our friends at Garden State
Episcopal.
I
could go on.
No,
there hasn’t been a lot of rejoicing going on in Jersey City.
On
Thursday morning, some of the clergy of our city, including Rev. Laurie and me,
met with the police chief and some other top brass of the department.
It
was a very cordial, positive, and productive meeting that left me feeling
hopeful.
But,
the chief said something in passing that has stuck with me. Talking about the
young men dealing drugs on our street corners, he said words to the effect of,
“as fast as we arrest them and get them off the streets, others come and take
their place.”
So,
after 14 years of war and heightened security, a husband and wife team hated us
so much that they were willing and able to orphan their baby and slaughter innocent
people enjoying a holiday party – and we all know there’s more where that came
from.
And,
after years and years of arresting kids dealing drugs on the corner they’re
still getting replaced by the next generation.
This
isn’t going to work.
This
isn’t going to work.
So,
what might work instead?
Well,
I think back to that concert.
There
were only a few of us but it was beautiful and we were full of joy.
And,
church can be like that – is, at its best, like that.
In
a world of billions of people, in a city of 250,000 people, there are only a relatively
few of us here. But, it’s beautiful. We’re beautiful. And we’re full of joy.
We
hear the words of St. Paul:
“Rejoice
in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to
everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by
prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to
God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your
hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”
Here
in church, week after week, we rejoice because the Lord is near.
Say
it with me: Rejoice! The Lord is near!
So,
what just might work, is if we spread our rejoicing near and far.
What
just might work is sharing our joy with the people who come into our buildings,
the people who come to church here for the first time, the people who come for
an AA meeting or for Stone Soup or for one of our cultural events.
Rejoice!
The Lord is near!
What
just might work is sharing our joy with the people we see on the street,
especially those we think of as “other” – a smile, a hello, a wave – let me
tell you, if there’s one thing I’ve learned these past couple of years, it’s
that you can meet the most amazing people on the street.
Rejoice!
The Lord is near!
What
just might work is sharing our joy with those kids on the corner. Honestly, I
don’t know how to do that yet – I’d say begin by praying for them - but I’m
challenging myself and challenging you to think about how we can share with
them our joy – how we can share with them that life doesn’t have to mean
standing out on the corner dodging the cops, making a few bucks selling drugs,
poisoning our community, while other, invisible people grow rich off of their
work.
Rejoice!
The Lord is near!
What
just might work is, as one of my clergy colleagues suggested, greeting
immigrants from Syria and elsewhere not with fear and barriers and prejudice
but with balloons and banners and a marching band and mountains of donations –
something like what happened in Canada the other day when Prime Minister
Trudeau personally welcomed the first Syrian refugees to their new home.
Rejoice!
The Lord is near!
What
just might work is for us Christians to hold hands and form a ring of
protection around Jersey City mosques so our Muslim brothers and sisters can
really feel our love and our joy and pray in peace.
Rejoice!
The Lord is near!
Now,
listen, I’m sorry to give us more to do. I really am. I know we’re all busy.
But, as a people, what we’re doing isn’t working.
I’ve
become convinced that the only way – the
only way – is the way of Christ – the only way is to take the love and joy
that we feel in here out there.
I
know there are just a few of us, but, who knows, if we, with God’s help, really
do share our love and joy, maybe by the next Gaudete Sunday, our city, our
country, our world, might be just a little more joyful.
I’m
going to give St. Paul the last word:
“Rejoice
in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to
everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by
prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to
God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your
hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”
Amen.
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