We Celebrate Christmas Because of Easter

The Church of St. Paul & Incarnation, Jersey City NJ

December 29, 2019

Year A: The First Sunday after Christmas

Isaiah 61:10-62:3

Psalm 147:13-21

Galatians 3:23-25; 4:4-7

John 1:1-18

We Celebrate Christmas Because of Easter

            Merry Christmas!

            By now much of the world has moved on from Christmas: gifts have been unwrapped and many of them will be soon forgotten; radio stations have returned to their regular music; and I’m sure there are already some trees lying abandoned and forlorn on the sidewalk, ready to be picked up and tossed into garbage trucks.

            The world has moved on to the next thing (New Year’s Eve, I guess).

            But, here in church, Christmas only got started on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

            Christmas continues here today and will continue over the next week.

            Having said that, it is true that even here in church the most intense and most festive time is drawing to a close.

            And, I’ve already begun evaluating our Christmas celebrations and soon the staff and I will meet to talk about what worked well and what may need to be changed for next year.

            I’ll say that this year’s pageant went very well – the kids did a great job – thanks to the direction of some very patient adults. And, as always, Gail did a fine job producing so much wonderful music at all of our services.

            Attendance was a little higher at the pageant service and on Christmas morning, but there were many fewer people at this year’s “Midnight Mass” service on Christmas Eve.

            As usual, there are probably lots of reasons why fewer people were able to join us: some people were out of town; some people were sick; some people were just worn out from all the holiday preparations.

            But, I have to believe that this year some people stayed away because of the nearly daily shootings that have been plaguing Jersey City in recent weeks.

            We all remember the horrific violence and bloodshed on Martin Luther King Drive a couple of weeks ago but there have also been lots of other shootings in that same neighborhood and also around our Triangle Park Community Center and even right here in the neighborhood around our church – there was a shooting on Christmas Eve at Montgomery and Bergen, and the other day there was a shooting at the gas station on Duncan and West Side.

            I don’t pretend to know what’s going on, lots of people speculate that it’s gang violence, but it’s frightening to have shots ringing out in our neighborhood, at places so familiar to us, and I can certainly understand if some people may have decided it was wiser just to stay home behind locked doors, safe and secure.

            I’ve heard some people say that things didn’t use to be this way – and I’m now old enough to have those thoughts myself.

            But, although today the widespread access to military-style weapons adds additional terror, and some among us do seem to settle scores with bullets rather than the fists that were used in the past, the truth is that we humans have always been prone to violence – the violence of abuse within families, the violence of criminals, and also also the violence on the national and international level as tyrants crush dissent and empires are always hungry to gobble up more land and more wealth.

            There are long shadows in our sinful world.

            Jesus was born into our sinful world and long shadows will follow him his whole life.

            Just yesterday, on the Feast of the Holy Innocents, we remembered that King Herod feeling threatened by the newborn king of the Jews, tried to kill Jesus in his infancy, forcing Joseph and Mary and Jesus to become refugees, fleeing into Egypt.

            And, of course, eventually religious leaders and Pontius Pilate finished the job – or thought they had finished the job – by nailing Jesus to the cross, a particularly cruel form of state-sponsored violence.

            And then a few decades later, the Romans destroyed Jerusalem itself, including the Temple. The Jewish people, including the Jews who followed Jesus as messiah, wondered if the end of the world had come.

            And yet, writing after all of this horror, the author of today’s gospel lesson (from the opening of John) insists that “the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.”

            Although we’re in the middle of celebrating Christmas, what we Christians should always celebrating is Easter – God raises Jesus, revealing that love is stronger than hate, life is stronger than death, and that violence, no matter how terrifying and destructive, does not get the final word.

            We celebrate Christmas because of Easter: “the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.”

            And it’s because of Easter that we can shine the light of Christ out into our shadowy world.

            But, in these uncertain times, I confess that I don’t always know how best to do that.

            I recently heard that someone asked after the recent outbursts of violence, “Where’s Fr. Tom?”

            Well, I’m right here trying to figure it out like everybody else.

            I don’t always know how best to shine the light of Christ but I know that staying home behind locked doors is not the way.

            So, as we begin another year together I’m praying for guidance.

            Maybe it’s time for me to finally work up the courage to walk up and talk to the young guys hanging around Triangle Park probably dealing drugs, time to make myself vulnerable, to allow them to get to know me, to build up trust, and together find a better way than settling scores by shooting at each other.

            Maybe it’s time for us to get back out on the streets, praying at places of violence, casting out the demons of rage, hate, and fear by sprinkling Holy Water on our cracked and glass-strewn sidewalks.

            Maybe it’s time for us to really commit to Jersey City Together and work closely with people of goodwill from all across our city.

            Whatever the way forward, I refuse to give in to fear and I hope you won’t either.

            The shadows may be long, but light of Christ shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not, can not, will not, overcome it.

            We celebrate Christmas because of Easter.

Amen.

Captivated by the Light

The Church of St. Paul & Incarnation, Jersey City NJ

December 25, 2019

Christmas Day

Isaiah 52:7-10

Psalm 98

Hebrews 1:1-4

John 1:1-14

Captivated by the Light

            Merry Christmas!

            As usual, our two celebrations last night were beautiful, with the our children doing a wonderfully charming job of telling the Christmas story, and Gail and our choir and musicians nearly blew the roof off of this old building with their gorgeous music at what we call “Midnight Mass.”

            Both of our services last night drew upon the stories of Jesus’ birth as found in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke.

            They are stories filled with memorable characters, including Joseph and Mary, of course, and also shepherds and mysterious wise men from the East, and even a cruel ruler who was none-too-pleased at the news of a newborn king of the Jews.

            Both Matthew and Luke want to make sure that we understand that Jesus’ birth took place in a particular time and place. That’s why Luke lists the name of the emperor and his underlings, the name of the chief priest – it’s why they both give us names of specific places – it’s why they both give us a long list of ancestors.

            But, on Christmas morning we always hear another Christmas story, a different kind of Christmas story, one that looks at the big picture, one that starts…

            In the beginning.

            What’s called the Prologue of the Gospel of John isn’t so concerned with the details of time and place, though it does mention John the Baptist as the one who points to the light.

            Instead of giving us lots of tongue-twisting names, lots of historical detail, the author of the Gospel of John places the arrival of Jesus in the context of eternity: the Word was with God from the beginning, and now, in and though Jesus, the Word of God has come among us as a human being.

            “The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.”

            Jesus is the supreme and ultimate example of what God does all the time: shine light into shadow.

            At every Baptism, as I offer a little candle to the newly baptized, I say the words of Jesus: “You are the light of the world. Let your light so shine so that others may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.”

            Now, at that point in the Baptism I have to be extra-careful, because the light often captivates the babies and children, and, no surprise sometimes they reach out for it and I need to pass it safely to a parent or godparent.

 But, you know, no matter how old we are, no matter how long ago we were baptized, that light should captivate us, too, and we should reach out for it – and most of all, we should let that light, that bright beautiful light of Christ, shine out through our lives.

Today, God seeks to shine the light of Christ into our human mess.

Today, God seeks to shine the light of Christ into our very shadowy world.

Through us.

I don’t need to tell you that things have been pretty shadowy here in Jersey City lately with shocking outbursts of violence and hatred, along with the usual steady drumbeat of more “routine” violence and suffering, (there was even a shooting last night – on Christmas Eve (!) - just around the corner from us at Bergen and Montgomery).

And yet, it seems to me that even in the midst of all of that violence, fear, and sorrow, the light has been shining bright.

 The light has been shining bright as people of different faiths or no faith have gathered to pray and to reflect and commit ourselves to peace.

The light has been shining bright as Jersey City’s own Frank Gilmore, better known as Educational Gilmore, “Coach Woo,” a former drug dealer who has long committed his second chance at life to serving the youth of our community, was invited to share his story on Ellen and received $50,000 and two years free rent on his storefront community center.

So, the light was shining pretty bright already, right?

But then, Mr. Gilmore took $10,000 of that money and treated 80 children from the yeshiva on MLK Drive and the entire second grade class from Sacred Heart School, and some kids from a couple of other area schools, as well as the daughter of one of the victims, treated them all to a holiday shopping spree: shining light so bright, so very bright, into the shadows.

And the light has been shining pretty bright around here, too, with so many of us stepping up to help with Family Promise and so many of us providing a little Christmas joy to over 80 children, and even for the first time making our way around the neighborhood singing carols, something that I hope will become a tradition.

And so now, as the days are slowly growing brighter, my prayer is that the light of Christ will captivate us - that we will reach for it, grab hold of it, and shine it out into the world.

Amen – and merry Christmas!

Awkward Silence

The Church of St. Paul and Incarnation, Jersey City NJ

December 24, 2019

Christmas Eve

Isaiah 62:6-12

Psalm 97

Titus 3:4-7

Luke 2:1-20

Awkward Silence

            Merry Christmas everyone!

            Every year I look forward to the beauty of this night, the sights and sounds of Christmas in this old and holy place.

            All of this beauty doesn’t just happen, though, so right off the bat I want to thank everyone, especially the Altar Guild and Gail and the Choir and our guest musicians and all those who decorated the church – thank you all so much for once again making our Christmas celebrations magnificent!

            Here in church and out in the world, the weeks leading up to Christmas are a time of intense preparation.

And, it’s also a time to look back and reflect on the year that is drawing to a close.

            And, as I look back on our year here at church, one of the highlights was when we once again hosted our Family Promise guests.

            If you don’t know, Family Promise is a national program that provides homeless families with temporary shelter (usually in churches or other houses of worship) while also working to find them more permanent housing.

            Our church is part of Family Promise of Hudson County, and so, for the second year in a row, for two solid weeks we hosted homeless families – this time it was 11 people, four families in total.

            It is by far the most challenging effort of our year, much bigger even than getting everything ready for Christmas.

            This isn’t a checkbook ministry where we just give money and are done (though, of course, Family Promise will accept any donations!).

But, for two weeks many of us got deeply involved with these families and, as you’d guess, that was sometimes beautiful and sometimes difficult.

As usual with human beings: it was often a messy experience.

            It was beautiful to see the deep bonds of love between the mothers and their kids, bonds forged in the challenge of having lost so much, the pain of having no place to call a true home.

            It was fun to be with some of the kids, especially a brother and sister, 10 or 12 years old or so, Muslims as it happens, who were both really smart and funny.

            They were full of questions, eager to get into mischief, demanding to hear good stories, and always up for playing games

            They even made up their own game that they called “Awkward Silence.”

            It goes like this: one person calls “Awkward Silence!” and everybody else is supposed to sit or stand, looking around awkwardly in silence until somebody finally gives in by talking and laughing.

            Not to brag, but I have to say I think they met their match in me, a master of awkward silence!

            And, of course, there were other moments that were not so beautiful: the yelling as the kids didn’t want to go to sleep at night and didn’t want to get up in the morning, the fighting over the bathroom, the leaving a mess in the kitchen, the failing to turn off lights or worst of all forgetting to turn off space heaters…

            You know how it is: human life is messy!

            And, you may have noticed that our world is a mess.

            And it is this messy humanity and this messy world that God loves so much, that God loves so much that God chose to come among us not as some imposing supernatural being or even as a mighty warrior, but as a helpless child born into less than ideal circumstances.

            At Christmas we remember that God enters into our messy world, born to a mother who I’m sure had to endure uncomfortable questions and unpleasant looks about her pregnancy, born into a family that had impressive ancestry but seemed not exactly the best equipped to raise a child, unable to provide even a proper crib, making do instead a feeding trough meant for animals.

God enters into our messy world, born to a family that will soon be on the run from a brutal tyrant, refugees forced to flee their homeland, desperately trying to protect the life of their holy child.

On the first Christmas, God doesn’t just write us some kind of spiritual check but instead enters, really enters into, our messy world.

And, the grown-up Jesus will spend his earthy life right here in the mess, loving and blessing the people that others turned way from or condemned – the lepers, the tax collectors, the prostitutes – and loving and blessing his own closest followers, who, let’s be honest, were no great prize, people who, like us, messed up in ways small and big.

And, so today the followers of Jesus are called not to retreat behind the beautiful walls of our church but to follow God’s example and enter into the messy world, knowing that God is with us, no matter what, that this is God’s work, not ours.

God loves us so much that God chose to come among us as a helpless child born into a messy world.

And this evening we respond to this most amazing gift with beautiful prayers and glorious music and shiny silver and fancy clothes.

We respond to this most amazing gift by loving and serving people in need, like those four families without a home of their own.

And, who knows, maybe later on tonight, when the music has ended and we’ve run out of words, if we take time to really reflect on what God has given us - on who God has given us - we might feel a little overwhelmed.

So, the best response to God’s gift might be spending a little time tonight in silence…maybe even awkward silence.

May you all have a wonderful Christmas.

Amen.

Unexpected Destinations

The Church of St. Paul and Incarnation, Jersey City NJ

December 22, 2019

Year A: The Fourth Sunday of Advent

Isaiah 7:10-16

Psalm 80:1-7, 16-18

Romans 1:1-7

Matthew 1:18-25

Unexpected Destinations

            And just like that, our quick, four Sundays-long, Advent journey is coming to an end.

            We began by reflecting on the need to make room for our journey, that there are some burdens – our regrets, our grudges, our fears - that are best left behind.

            And then we talked about how we needed directions for our Advent journey – that we need direction – and our Advent direction was the call of John the Baptist to repent, to have a change of mind and heart, to turn back to God.

            And then last week we reflected on the interruptions that can occur during our journey, like when John the Baptist found himself in prison wondering if Jesus really is the one, interruptions like when we find ourselves suddenly sidetracked by loss and tragedy, which have been all too common around here lately.

            And now today, on the Fourth Sunday of Advent, we turn our attention from John the Baptist to another main character of this season: Joseph.

Joseph never says a word in the gospels, but through his righteousness, faithfulness, and courage change he changed the lives of Mary and Jesus, and changed the course of history.

            At the end of a journey, sometimes our destination looks nothing like what we expected.

            Pretty much everything we know about Joseph comes from the Gospel of Matthew.

            We’re told that Joseph is a descendant of the great King David and that he is a righteous man, and certainly his actions prove that to be true.

            We’re told that he is engaged to Mary, who was probably quite young. The tradition has long been that Joseph was much older but there’s nothing in the gospel to confirm that.

            We can assume that the families of Joseph and Mary had arranged their marriage and that Joseph expected that his destiny was to live a normal, unremarkable life, working as a craftsman, raising a family with Mary, and faithfully following his Jewish traditions.

            But then the most amazing events happened, overturning what Joseph had thought was his destiny, sending him to an unexpected destination.

After learning of Mary’s pregnancy and knowing that he was not the father, Joseph first planned to quietly end their engagement. But, after an angelic dream, Joseph makes his life-changing decision, the history-changing decision, of staying with Mary and raising her holy child as his own.

            An unexpected destination.

            We tend to think of that as the end of Joseph’s story and the truth is that after this we don’t hear too much more about him, but for as long as he lived his decision to stick with Mary and Jesus would change his life because people in the family, people in the village, they would have known that Joseph wasn’t the boy’s father and, well, you know how people are. There would have been whispering and snickering, there would have been gossip, and Joseph would have to ignore all of that, rise above all of that.

            And, soon a tyrant will be on the murderous hunt for the holy child and Joseph will need to leave behind everything familiar, fleeing with Mary and Jesus to Egypt, living for a time as refugees in a strange land.

            So, I wonder about the cost for Joseph, how his faithful and righteous choice shaped his life.

            I wonder about the cost for Mary, a cost that she will have to pay all the way to watching her son die on the cross.

            And, I also wonder about the cost for Jesus, who as he grew up would have heard the same gossip, would have somehow absorbed the trauma of fleeing to Egypt with his frightened parents, just as refugee children are scarred by their experiences today.

            It’s always hard to separate out nature and nurture, how much of who we are is hardwired and how much of it is shaped by the world around us, but I like to think that Jesus’ status as a kind of outsider helped give him a special bond with the outsiders of his time: the lepers and the prostitutes and the tax-collectors.

            Maybe Jesus didn’t just love the outsiders, but he actually identified with them, too.

            Sometimes our destination looks nothing like what we expected.

            And when we land in those unexpected destinations we have a choice.

            Joseph could have just walked away, leaving Mary as an unwed mother, an unpleasant place to be in that time and place.

            For that matter, when Mary found herself in the unexpected destination of being chosen to carry the Son of God into the world, she also could have said no. She could have told the angel, “Pick someone else.”

            And, really, Jesus himself could have rejected his mission too, choosing to live a quiet life in Nazareth, maybe rejecting his mother’s and Joseph’s stories of angels. Jesus could have given into anger about the unusual circumstances of his birth.

            Sometimes our destination looks nothing like what we expected.

            And, it’s at that moment that we have a choice:

            We can become bitter, so disappointed that things didn’t work out as we expected.

            Or, landing in an unexpected destination can open our hearts, open our eyes, to God at work around us.

            This past Thursday we had the annual interfaith homeless memorial service over at Old Bergen Church.

            It’s a very simple service, mostly some prayers, and some music led by Gail and friends. And, maybe because of its simplicity, I think it’s one of the most meaningful and beautiful services of the year.

            Homelessness is certainly an unexpected destination, isn’t it?

            As part of the service, the names of deceased homeless people are read by people who work at the shelters.

            When Jaclyn Cherubini, the Executive Director of the Hoboken Shelter, reads the names, she often adds personal details about the people we are remembering, details that show personal care, details that bring tears to me eyes every time.

 One person had the largest set of keys she had ever seen.

            And, for a couple of the people, she mentioned that after they had gotten out of the shelter, after they had found permanent housing, they came back to the shelter and volunteered, helping others who were in the same spot that they had been in.

            That’s just amazing to me because I’m pretty sure that if I had managed to escape a homeless shelter I would do my best to forget all about it and would certainly never go back.

But then here at our own church, I can think of several people who have landed in the unexpected destination of homelessness – and, rather than leaving them bitter, that experience has made them extra-compassionate to people begging on the street, offering not just money or a sandwich but taking the time to talk, taking the opportunity to offer encouragement, human being to human being, brothers and sisters.

            So, today we come to the end of our Advent journey, remembering righteous Joseph who found himself at a most unexpected destination, called by God to be more loving and more courageous than he had probably ever thought possible.

 Joseph, and Mary, and Jesus, all found themselves in unexpected destinations.

            And they all said yes - yes to love, and yes to God.

            Amen.