Christmas Light

St. Paul’s Church in Bergen & Church of the Incarnation, Jersey City NJ

December 25, 2018

Christmas Day

Isaiah 52:7-10

Psalm 98

Hebrews 1:1-4

John 1:1-14

Christmas Light

            Merry Christmas, everyone!

            Thanks to the hard work and dedication and talent of many of our parishioners, we had beautiful Christmas celebrations last night – a moving pageant presented by our kids, and an over-the-top spectacular “Midnight” Mass, (at the more reasonable hour of 10:00, of course!)

            And, now we’re back here this morning for out simpler but no less beautiful or important Christmas Day service.

            Merry Christmas!

            As usual, I’m trying hard to stay in the moment, but I’ll admit I’m looking forward to some slower and quieter days ahead – and I hope you’ll get some time for peace and rest, too.

            One of the things I’ve been thinking about doing is catching a movie or two this week – something I almost never get to do.

            I don’t even get to watch too many movies at home, partly because I tend to fall asleep somewhere in the middle of the story!

            But, a couple of months ago, Sue and I finally got around to watching the documentary called Won’t You Be My Neighbor?

            Have any of you seen it?

            You can know for sure that it was really good because I was wide-awake through the whole thing!

            As you may know, the movie is about Fred Rogers – better known to kids and parents from the 1970s, 1980s, and 1990s as television’s “Mister Rogers.”

            For years, Mister Rogers and his small band of actors and puppets entertained kids (and, probably at least some parents, too) with the simplest of ingredients.

They included a very basic living room set, walking through a door, putting on a sweater, lacing a pair of sneakers, singing songs, and, of course, what really captured my imagination as a kid: a trolley that took us to the “Neighborhood of Make-Believe” ruled by King Friday XIII.

I remember very clearly the trolley and I remember the miniature model of Mister Rogers’ neighborhood that we saw at the start of each show, but I can’t say that I consciously remember the specific lessons that he taught on his program, though I bet they sank into my head and the heads of lots of other kids back then.

Watching the documentary I learned a lot more about Fred Rogers and his work.

I had known that he was an ordained minister in the Presbyterian Church, but I hadn’t realized that he really saw his television work as his ministry – he never had a church of his own – just the fake living room, the trolley, and the puppets.

I also learned that, like all saints, he was not quite perfect.

He was a little bit vain about his weight – proud that he maintained exactly the same weight his entire adult life.

He also wasn’t completely satisfied to be seen as only a TV personality for kids. Later on, he tried to present programming for adults but it never really took off.

And, it’s true that towards the end of his life he had trouble grappling with – making sense of - some of the great tragedies of our time.

But, although I hadn’t realized it when I was a kid, on his deceptively simple show Mister Rogers was addressing some of the most difficult issues that any of us, young or old, ever have to face, things like divorce, disaster, and death.

And, even after his death, the kindness, the example, and the wisdom of Fred Rogers live on.

For example, when disaster strikes, people often post on social media what he said to help kids cope with tragedy: “My mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’ To this day, especially in times of disaster, I remember my mother’s words, and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers – so many caring people in the world.”

In today’s Gospel lesson, we heard the story of the first Christmas as told by John the Evangelist.

The way John tells the story, there’s no Mary and Joseph, no angels or shepherds, not even a newborn baby placed in a feeding trough meant for animals.

No, John offers us a cosmic Christmas – going all the way back to the beginning – to the Word that was with God, the Word that was God.

And, because God loves us so much, the Word entered the world in and through Jesus – the Word entered the world as light – light shining in a deeply shadowed world – light that shines far brighter than any shadow.

As I mentioned in my sermon last night, I’ve been thinking a lot lately how hard life was for the people we hear about in the gospels – living in a brutal empire with hazards and hardship all around – and yet even in their time of deep shadows at least some of these suffering people we hear about in the Bible saw the Light – and then they spread that Light to others through their words and actions.

Christmas Light.

And, the truth is that we also find ourselves living in a time of deep shadows, our own personal shadows and the shadows covering our country and world – and, yet the Light of Christ is still shining  - I saw it bright and clear last night and I see it this morning - and the Light of Christ cannot be overcome, can never be extinguished.

But, as Teresa of Avila said, today Christ has no body in the world but ours.

So you and I are meant to shine that Christmas Light not just on December 24th and 25th, but all year long.

In ways large and small, we are meant to shine that Christmas Light into the deepest shadows of life – to be the messengers of peace praised by the Prophet Isaiah – to be the helpers looked for by Mister Rogers and his mother.

Yes, the Christmas Light has been shining so bright last night and today in this beautiful place.

And, my Christmas prayer is that, with God’s help, we’ll be like Fred Rogers, and use our simple gifts of love and kindness all year long - to shine the Light of Christ into all of our neighborhoods.

Merry Christmas, to you all!

Amen.

Christmas Courage

St. Paul’s Church in Bergen & Church of the Incarnation, Jersey City NJ

December 24, 2018

Christmas Eve

Isaiah 62:6-12

Psalm 97

Titus 3:4-7

Luke 2:1-20

Christmas Courage

            Merry Christmas, everyone!

            Over the past few weeks so much hard work has gone into preparing for tonight’s celebrations and all that will follow tomorrow and in the days ahead.

            For weeks, the children and their teachers ran through the pageant and that hard work really paid off earlier this evening.

            The choir has been diligently rehearsing.

            The greens and flowers have been gathered and artfully arranged.

            The silver and brass have been vigorously polished to a bright shine.

            The bulletins have been carefully edited and printed.

            And, now – on this holy night - we have gathered to hear and to celebrate this old story that no matter how many times we hear it never seems to get tired.

We have gathered in this beautiful place to hear the story of God coming among us in a new and unprecedented way – the story of God coming among us not with thunder and lightning – and not even with trumpets or drums.

            No, tonight we have gathered as Christians have gathered through the ages to hear and celebrate the old story that somehow never gets tired – the story of God who loves us so much that God came among us as a helpless infant, born to a couple of nobodies in an out of the way and terribly uncomfortable, and even frightening, place.

            This year as I reflected on this story I was struck by what the angel says to the terrified shepherds:

            “Do not be afraid; for see I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people.”

            “Do not be afraid.”

            “Do not be afraid” is what the angel had said to Mary, too.

            And, later in our story, that’s going to be a big part of the message proclaimed by the grown-up Jesus: do not be afraid, do not be afraid, do not be afraid.

            And so as I think about Christmas this year, I think, yes, I’m sure we could all use some “Christmas joy” but maybe what we really need is “Christmas courage.”

            I’ve been in the priest business for a while now, so it kind of surprises me how different dimensions, other elements, of these old and holy stories touch me, depending on what’s going on in the world, what’s going on in our community here, and what’s going on in my own life.

            These past few weeks, I’ve been reflecting on what we might call the backdrop of the gospels – the fact that when Jesus was born and walked the earth the people of Israel were ruled by a huge and brutal empire, an empire led by an egomaniacal emperor who cared nothing about the wellbeing of his people, an emperor and his deputies who were only concerned about their power and glory.

            It’s not an accident that Luke begins the story by telling us that the emperor used his enormous power for a census – an imperial headcount that uprooted at least some of the people who probably could least afford it, including Joseph and the heavily pregnant Mary.

            When Jesus was born and walked the earth, anxiety and fear were in the air.

            And so, the angel says, “Do not be afraid.”

            And, sure enough, as I read this old holy story today I’m struck by how all of the central characters display so much courage.

            When the angel appeared to Mary with the shocking news that she was chosen to bring this holy child into the world, although she is amazed at this news, she courageously says, “yes” – she says “yes” to God – say “yes” despite probably sensing that there will be a high cost for her and a high cost for her child.

            When Joseph is presented with the news that his fiancée is pregnant, he knows that he’s not the father. But, from the start, Joseph very decently wants to save Mary from public shame but then, much bolder even than that, Joseph courageously chooses to stick with Mary and her child, knowing that this holy family will surely be gossiped about – and they’ll face worse trials than that – for years to come.

            And, then, to get themselves counted, Mary and Joseph courageously head out onto the road, which back then was always a dangerous undertaking, all the more when the due date was so soon.

            And, then, Mary and Joseph had no choice but to bring this most holy life into the world, not at home surrounded by people who loved and cared for them, and not even sheltered in an inn but in a barn or a cave, placing the newborn king into a feeding trough meant for animals.

            And, how about the shepherds, too, right?

            They take the angel’s word for it and rather than hurrying back to their work and their low-profile lives, rather than playing it safe and just minding their own business, the shepherds chose to head for Bethlehem and to see the newborn Messiah for themselves.

            And, as the story continues there will be even more courage, as the wise men courageously follow the star and courageously outfox Herod.

            There will be more courage as Joseph and Mary and the child flee the dangers of their homeland, desperately looking for peace and safety, counting on the welcome of strangers.

            Over and over, the characters in this old holy story show so much courage.

            Christmas courage.

            And, I believe that this courage was in fact a gift from God – the courageous God who chose to come among us in and through Jesus – the courageous God who chose to become as a helpless infant – the courageous God who chose to offer us love knowing full well that this offer was likely to be flatly rejected by us in a most terrible and heartbreaking way.

            And, yet, despite everything that will happen to this newborn king, despite the ways that today we continue to reject God, God never gives up on us.

            Which is really good news, because I don’t need to tell you that the backdrop of our own time is not so great – anxiety and fear are again in the air.

            And, I know that so many of us – all of us, probably - bring our own personal burdens and worries to tonight’s celebration.

            So, I hope that all of the hard work and the beauty of this place and, most of all, the power of the story will bring us some much-needed Christmas joy.

 And, as we remember the story of long-ago courageous people who carried and welcomed and protected Jesus – as we rejoice at the courageous God who loves us enough to come among us - my prayer is that we’ll take into our hearts the message of the angel - the message of the grown-up Jesus:

Do not be afraid.

Merry Christmas to you all.

Amen.

Tikkun Olam

St. Paul’s Church in Bergen & Church of the Incarnation, Jersey City NJ

December 16, 2018

Year C: The Third Sunday of Advent

Zephaniah 3:14-20

Canticle 9

Philippians 4:4-7

Luke 3:7-18

Tikkun Olam

            Advent is a short season in a busy time and so it always, always, flies by so quickly.

            Even I can hardly believe – and, I’ll admit that I’m trying to suppress a little bit of panic that there’s not enough time to get done everything that needs to get done for Christmas – I can hardly believe that it’s already the Third Sunday of Advent.

            Today is called called Gaudete Sunday from a Latin word meaning “rejoice” – it’s the Sunday when we switch the liturgical color from blue to rose (not pink!) – it’s the Sunday when we begin to rejoice that Christmas is so very close.

            Of course, even if we’re sticklers about Advent like we are around here, we certainly don’t have to wait until Christmas to feel joy.

            Although there are plenty of problems and challenges and tragedies all around us, there’s also a lot to celebrate – a lot of joy.

            For example, last Sunday afternoon – on a tough date and at a difficult time for church people – Jersey City Together packed New Hope Missionary Baptist Church – packed that sanctuary with over 500 people willing to sacrifice a Sunday afternoon in the lead-up to Christmas – people willing to speak up for affordable and decent housing, safe streets, and schools that have the resources they need to educate and nurture our kids.

            The speakers at this action were particularly excellent.

            One was Christine Keller, a junior from McNair Academic High School – consistently rated the best high school in the state and one of the best in the country. Yet, this poised and eloquent young woman spoke about the lack of resources for extracurricular activities and field trips.

            She spoke about how a sink in one of the girls’ bathrooms fell off the wall and remained on the floor because apparently there wasn’t the money to fix it.

            She spoke of being unwilling to go into the school basement because it’s infested with vermin.

            Left unsaid was the thought that I’m sure a lot of us had: if this what it’s like in our premier and elite high school, what in the world is it like in our other high schools and the many elementary schools scattered throughout the city?

            The sad truth was left unsaid because we all know the answer – it’s at least as bad and often even worse.

            Another speaker was Tanisha Johnson, a woman who lives in the Holland Gardens housing project – it’s a public housing complex built decades ago in what is kind of a no man’s land near the Holland Tunnel – nearly inaccessible without a car.

            If you’ve been down that way lately you know that many new and expensive luxury high rises are going up all around Holland Gardens – making residents wonder how much longer it will be until they are pushed out.

            Meanwhile though, Ms. Johnson spoke about the miserable living conditions in her home, including an infestation of mice. She talked about trapping seventeen mice at one time!

            In one of the most dramatic moments of the action, Ms. Johnson turned around to face the mayor and invited him to switch homes with her.

            The mayor didn’t take her up on that offer, but, to his credit, he did seem to take her misery seriously and even, he said, personally.

            The other moment of high drama came when Rabbi Elliott Tepperman from Montclair rose to address the issue of gun violence.

            He’s a leader in the anti-gun violence group called Do Not Stand Idly By and he spoke passionately and powerfully about gun violence – gun violence, which, by the way, is the highest it’s been in our country in forty years – gun violence which continues to shed blood in our city, including our most recent homicide on Friday night at MLK and Orient.

The rabbi spoke about how gun violence has affected his own life and the lives of people in his community – how gun violence affects people even in a place as leafy and prosperous in Montclair.

            The rabbi really got worked up about this issue – and, in fact, he went overtime, putting our friend Rev. Laurie, who was the timekeeper of the day, into an awkward spot – but as I was sitting there listening to him speak so passionately about the scourge of gun violence I realized that he was living out one of the most important concepts in Judaism.

            It’s called Tikkun olam - and it means “repair of the world.”

            And, many Jews interpret Tikkun olam as our duty to help others and improve the state of the world – and that if we do that not only do we help other people, but we also glorify God.

            Tikkun olam: to repair the world.

            If you were here last Sunday, you may remember that we were reintroduced to one of the central characters of Advent, that very Jewish prophet: John the Baptist.

            In the wilderness, John heard the voice of God and began preaching a baptism of repentance – calling people to be washed in the River Jordan and to change their minds, change their hearts, and change their lives.

            Now, today, we pick up right where we left off last week – and we get to hear a little bit of John’s preaching.

John begins by calling the people who come to him “a brood of vipers” – definitely not a compliment and it certainly doesn’t seem like a very effective church growth strategy, but what do I know? – and John warns people that it’s not their heritage that matters – God can make children of Abraham out of stones, he says – but what matters how we live our lives.

            Tikkun olam: to repair the world.

            Notice that we don’t hear anything about baptism itself.

            Instead, the focus is on what happens after baptism.

            John the Baptist says, “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.”

            And, notice that this honest and generous behavior is not just for special super-religious people.

            No, absolutely everyone is called – and expected – to live this way, even the tax collectors who were so despised in that time and place – even the soldiers who were given the awesome responsibility and power of enforcing the will of a brutal empire.

            John calls all of them – absolutely everybody – to live an honest and generous life. John calls everyone to Tikkun olam – to repair a very broken world.

            At the conclusion of today’s gospel reading, John the Baptist reminds everyone that he is not the messiah – that he has come to prepare the way for one more powerful – the one who will baptize not with water but with the Holy Spirit.

            John the Baptist prepares the way for Jesus of Nazareth.

            And, the very Jewish Jesus will also teach that we are to live honestly and generously – that when we feed the hungry and quench the thirsty – when we welcome the stranger and clothe the naked – when we console the sick and visit the imprisoned – when we do these simple but profound acts we do them to and for Jesus.

           

            Unfortunately, over the centuries our focus changed and many Christians became more concerned with believing the right things and performing the right rituals – more concerned with checking off the boxes seen as necessary to get us into heaven – more focused on baptism instead of what happens after baptism.

            But, in more recent times, as the church has been pushed to the margins of society, we have rediscovered that we’re not just called to believe the right way – not just called to worship the right way – not just called to avoid sin – although that’s all important - but we are also called to live generously and honestly – to allow God to work in and through us - to, yes, repair our rundown schools, to ensure that everyone has decent and affordable housing, to remove the tools of death from our streets and homes – to allow God to work in and through us to repair our very broken world.

            And, when we do that, there is and there will be, on earth and in heaven, so much rejoicing – so much Gaudete - so much joy.

            Tikkun olam: to repair the world.

            Amen.

           

           

            

Wilderness Places and Wilderness Times

St. Paul’s Church in Bergen & Church of the Incarnation, Jersey City NJ

December 9, 2018

Year C: The Second Sunday of Advent

Baruch 5:1-9

Canticle 16

Philippians 1:3-11

Luke 3:1-6

Wilderness Places and Wilderness Times

            If you were here last week and remember my sermon, you may recall that I showed off a little bit about how far I go back in Jersey City. I talked about how different the Hudson Mall was back when I was a kid, bustling with big crowds and many different stores, including, surprisingly enough, a Catholic bookstore and chapel run by nuns.

            Well, the problem with showing off is that there’s usually someone who can show off a little bit more and, sure enough, after last week’s 8:00 service our parishioner Mike Rems shared with me some of his Hudson Mall memories which go farther back then mine – so far back that he remembers when there were no stores there at all – just marshland – just empty wilderness where as a kid he and his pals went hunting for small creatures – unsuccessfully, he says.

            By the time I was a kid in the 1970s, most of our city and county had been paved over and built up, though I remember there was a little patch of wilderness along the railroad tracks back behind Country Village, a little wilderness with a footpath running through, a little wilderness where I was warned never to go.

            Today a house sits on that land, and if you’re looking for wilderness around here, I guess you have to go over to Lincoln Park West or Liberty Park and look in just the right direction and squint a little bit – and then you can almost imagine you’re in the wilderness.

            Now, there may not be much natural wilderness left around here, but in many other ways, our city is very much a wilderness.

            There’s the wilderness along some of our major avenues and along many of our side streets where danger seems to lurk on nearly every corner and so many houses and buildings sit looking forlorn, neglected, abandoned.

            There’s the wilderness of people living in shockingly poor conditions – crumbling walls – infestation of vermin – no heat – and the fear that they will lose even that to landlords who want as much rent as they can get.

            And, on the other hand, there’s the wilderness of the good landlords, the good supers, and the good homeowners, who do their best to keep up their buildings and sidewalks, but challenged every single day by the neglect and abuse of tenants and neighbors.

            There’s the wilderness of too many of our schools, where there’s no running water, not enough supplies, not enough family support, and teachers are demoralized and exhausted by low pay, a crushing amount of paperwork, and very little respect.

            And, finally, and most important, there’s the wilderness in the hearts of so many of our people – loneliness, regret, fear, anger – and the disorientation caused by our rapidly changing society and economy that seems to be leaving us behind.

            So, yes, Jersey City is a paved-over place, but we don’t have to travel very far at all to find wilderness places and wilderness times.

            There’s a funny thing about wilderness places and wilderness times, though, that ancient people understood and that maybe we’ve forgotten.

            In the wilderness places and wilderness times, we recognize only too well our weakness and dependence, so it’s there – in the wilderness - that we can most clearly experience God’s presence and God’s power.

            On this second Sunday of preparation, we turn our attention to one of the central characters of Advent, John the Baptist.

            It’s only Luke the Evangelist who gives us some of the Baptist’s back story – only Luke who tells us that John and Jesus were family, related through their mothers – only Luke who tells us that John was the son of Zechariah the priest, who sings to his son the song we just said together:

            “You, my child, shall be called the prophet of the Most High, for you will go before the Lord to prepare his way…”

            And, Luke tells us that John and Jesus - and all of the others that we are about to hear about in the Gospel – they all lived in the wilderness of the Roman Empire, under the rule of a particularly grotesque and depraved emperor named Tiberius.

All of the people we’re about to hear about in the Gospel – they all lived under lesser but still bad news officials like Pontius Pilate, and also the Jewish priests who had sold out to the Romans to save their people, or maybe just to save themselves.

            The Gospel itself takes place in a wilderness place and a wilderness time.

            Luke doesn’t tell us anything about John the Baptist from his birth until what we heard today: we’re told that the word of God came to him in the wilderness and then he traveled in the area around the Jordan River and began calling people – began calling people living in the wilderness of a brutal empire – people living in the wilderness of their own sin and despair.

John called people to be baptized – to repent - to change their hearts – to change their ways – to prepare for the salvation of God.

            God comes to us in wilderness places and wilderness times.

            This all happened a long time ago, right?

 But, I’ve talked to enough of you - and I’ve experienced it myself in my own life – to know that God is still at work – God is still coming to us in our wilderness places and wilderness times.

            And then, just as God used John the Baptist, God sends us to people who are in their own wilderness places and wilderness times.

            I think of one of our parishioners who calls a friend who is in the wilderness of illness and depression – calls her every single day - to make sure she’s hanging in there - in his own quiet way, offering her encouragement, support, and love.

            I think of someone who called me the other day concerned about a mutual friend of ours who is in the wilderness of alcoholism, quite literally drinking himself to death – saying to me that we have to do something – we have to try our best to save him because we love him and his life is worth living.

            And, yes, I think of the hospitality we offered to our Family Promise guests – talk about people in a wilderness time and place – sharing God’s love with them right here in our spiritual home.

            And, I think of the monthly feasts we serve at the homeless drop-in center – and the now the sandwiches that we also make – and the socks and blankets that we’re collecting – and Mia’s beautiful vision (which we have surpassed, by the way!) - all to feed and warm people who are living in the wilderness of the streets or in the shelters.

            And, I also think of Jersey City Together – this remarkable organization that is just a few years old but has already made such a difference in our own lives and in the lives of so many of our neighbors – bringing hope and power to people living in the wilderness of unsafe neighborhoods – the wilderness of dilapidated apartments – the wilderness of substandard schools.

I think of Jersey City Together, which has called on the leaders of our city to, in a way, repent – to change their ways.

And now this afternoon we’ll continue this good and holy work and I hope you’ll be there.

So, yes, we live in a paved-over place, but we don’t have to travel far at all to find wilderness places and wilderness times.

Fortunately, God comes to us in the wilderness – and then, God sends us out to our brothers and sisters in the wilderness, sometimes calling on them to change their ways – but most of all, offering them – offering one another - the overflowing love of Jesus Christ.

Amen.