Celtic Advent - Day XXXIX - December 24
& the angel gave me a catalog
filled with toasters & clock radios
& a basketball signed by Michael Jordan
& I said, But this is just stuff
& the angel smiled at me
& swallowed me in her arms.
I'm so glad you said that,
she whispered to me.
I knew you still had a chance.
~ From StoryPeople
Do you need a Savior?
When I was serving a suburban congregation in Northern New Jersey, one of the littlest of the children did what all parents in the Tri-State Area consider a Rite of Passage. She went with her parents to Radio City Music Hall to see The Nativity Story.
I’m told she was absolutely enraptured by the performance,
positively caught up watching the story which she had only been read now dramatically
unfold before her eyes: The sweet baby Jesus, meek and mild, the young Virgin
Mary, the strong, silent Joseph.
Just before the dramatic ending, when, of course, Santa makes his entrance and
the Rocketts dance on stage . . . . (Funny, I don’t remember that part from
scripture. Well, never mind.) . . .the melodious voice of one, speaking in very
measured tones from behind the curtain, calls out the rest of the story. That
this child that was born would grow to be the savior of the world. That he was
born so he could die for us . . . .
At which point, this wonderful precocious child of our community sat forward on
the edge of her chair, looked with wild bewilderment at her parents and said,
“He DIED? He’s DEAD?”
Her parents, being very wise, said, “You know, we’ll be in church tomorrow. Why don’t you ask Reverend Elizabeth?”
So, the very next day, just before service, her father came and told me the story, “Heads up!” he said. Such is the lot of a parish priest.
Right after the service, right on cue, the child came running to me, most distressed and breathlessly dramatic. “Reverend Elizabeth! Reverend Elizabeth! Did you know that Jesus is DEAD? Did you know that they KILLED JESUS?”
I took her by the hand and led her to the stairs at the entrance to the Parish Hall and prayed a frenetic little prayer to the Holy Spirit to come. We sat down and I heard myself say, “Well, you know, the people who were around Jesus were good people. They were just scared people. And, when people are scared they can sometimes make very bad decisions and do bad things. Even people today do the same thing.”
She nodded her head in agreement like a wise person in her 50s. “But, why did they have to kill BABY JESUS?” she pleaded.
“Oh, they didn’t kill Baby Jesus,” I said “Jesus was 33 years old when he died.”
“THIRTY-THREE?? That’s how old my MOTHER is!” she said, which made the adults who had gathered at a safe distance chuckle and snort.
“So,” she said, they didn’t kill BABY Jesus?”
“No,” said I.
“Oh,” she said as she got up and straightened her dress, “That’s different.” And then, she ran into the Parish Hall and headed straight for the cookies.
Do you need a savior? Especially one who is weak and vulnerable and dependent on you?
Well, here’s my answer. It’s in the form of a story – one of my favorite Christmas stories so don’t stop me if you’ve heard it before.
It’s about my 6th or 7th Christmas. That was the year I got my own
room. I am the eldest of four children and there were only three bedrooms in
our apartment. My parents fixed up the room in the attic just for me. Oh, at
the time, the room was bare – almost Spartan – but I knew it had great
potential once more of my things were moved in. I was absolutely thrilled. I
felt this was going to be the best Christmas ever.
In my first night in my own room, I was all snuggled into my bed, surrounded by
my comforter, reading my favorite Nancy Drew book when my mother called up that
it was time to turn off the light and go to bed.
That’s when I discovered the problem. The light was in the
center of the room. In the ceiling with a pull string. That meant I had to get
up from my bed to turn off the light. Which meant that, once the light was off,
I would have to make it from the center of the room back into my bed. And, I
had to do that before the monsters who lived under my bed came out to attack
me.
How could I do that? I decided to ignore my mother. It became a pattern in my
life.
My mother called again. I felt the tears well up in my eyes, and my throat
began to burn. I couldn’t let her know that I was crying. Big girls don’t cry
and I didn’t want to loose my big girl’s room so soon after getting it. So, I
screwed my courage, threw off the covers, and ran to the light, turned it off,
and ran back into my bed – walking so fast I’m sure my feet did not touch the
floor.
But, I knew. I just knew that the monsters would come and get me anyway. I knew
they didn’t like to be fooled and they had been tricked out of getting me. Soon
and very soon they would start to appear. I shut my eyes tight and waited for
the inevitable.
Suddenly, miraculously, I heard a “click” and I opened my eyes to see a small
sliver of light at the bottom of the door at end of the stairs that led to my
attic room. My mother had turned on the hallway light. Perhaps she had heard the
anxiety in my feat as I ran to turn off the light.
But, in the midst of the darkness there was light. A small sliver of light, but
light. That light was all I needed to feel safe. To find some sense of
security. To be saved from my worst nightmare and imagination of the unknown.
Jesus is, for me, that small sliver of light at the bottom of my worst fears
and imaginings.
I don’t know about you, but I need that light in my life.
When people fail me – when they disappoint me – I need that small sliver of
light in my life to give me hope.
When I fail others – when I
disappoint them – I need that small sliver of light in my life to call me back
to my best self again. To confess and repent and try to do better and be
better. To lift me from my depression and call me into peace and joy and love
and hope.
Do you need a savior?
Well, whether you need one or not, one is on the way.
Do you need a savior?
Ready or not, here he comes – again. There is the voice of one crying into the
wilderness of our lives. It is saying, “Prepare the way of the Lord” – who may
not come as you expect in a great, flashy show, but as a small sliver of hope.
A minute dollop of peace.
A tiny scrap of joy.
A seemingly insignificant morsel of love.
Even so, it will be enough to save you from your worst imaginings of the world,
your harsh experience of others and the deepest fears and terrors you suffer in
the wildernesses of your life.
I'll leave you with these thoughts about faith and church from Rachel Held Evans
“One of the most destructive mistakes we Christians make is to prioritize
shared beliefs over shared relationship, which is deeply ironic considering we
worship a God who would rather die than lose relationship with us.” ~ Rachel
Held Evans
“Faith isn’t having everything figured out ahead of time; faith is about following the quiet voice of God without having everything figured out ahead of time.” ~ RHE
“I am a Christian,” I concluded, “because the story of Jesus is still the story I’m willing to risk being wrong about.” ~ Rachel Held Evans
No comments:
Post a Comment