The light of love that shines in the darkness . . .

     Those gathered here today infrequently or perhaps visiting because of the season might be a bit taken aback by our liturgy.  I know a number of people have stopped me at the Putnam, called/e-mailed me at home, and brought up the events at Watertown this past Friday before the service today.  The proclamations of our liturgy might seem a bit incongruous with the tragic events of the CT shooting.  Some 19 or 20 children have lost their lives, as have six or so adults charged with educating those kids.  Why on earth would we gather as a worshipping community and light the candle of love?  And should we not have chosen readings more appropriate to the events?  After all, if children are being shot in their classroom by adults, the last thing we should be doing is proclaiming love.  And who wants to read about a brood of vipers?  We should be reading more about God’s comfort, should we not?

     In answer to the first question, the question about our proclamation of love in the lighting of the third candle of Advent, there are at least two good reasons to light that candle and proclaim its significance.  One, we are a liturgical church.  That means, among other things, that our calendar is set long before the events in our life occur.  Our liturgy reminds us that darkness is always trying to overcome the Light that has come into the world, Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior.  Our lectionary and seasons move us along, rather than allow us to dwell on subjects that we might explore for months.  Secondly, though, and perhaps more significantly, we are reminded that the Nativity--the Silent Night and The Frost lay on the Ground night--are not the entire picture of the Incarnation.  In fact, one of my favorite memes on Facebook this week is one that declares “Jesus was born into a war zone.”

     Truer words have never been spoken.  We might like to think that the massacre of children is a modern painful experience, but Romans and their enemies experienced such events far too often.  We might like to think that the looming fiscal cliff, and its accompanying economic chaos if our leaders cannot agree on taxes and spending cuts, is a new anxiety, experienced only by two party democratic modern systems of government, but the people in the Empire would snort in derision at our claimed uniqueness.  We might like to think that terrorism and warfare are a new phenomenon, as is the accompanying worry and fear for life, but both Romans and those outside the Empire would claim to be empathetic to our claims about those evils.  Throw in random natural disasters like storms and droughts and diseases, and throw in the effort to understand which god or goddess in the Pantheon is exerting his or her will through those disasters, and you get a sense of the period into which Jesus was born.  Don’t believe me?  Think on this . . .  

     Augustus has settled all questions of succession and expanded the Empire to the point that he can sit back and take stock of tax receipts.  Upon reflection he notices that taxes are low when compared to the rolls of the last estimates of the population within the Empire.  So, he declares a census and forces everyone to head to their hometown to be registered so that he can make sure he is receiving all revenue due him.  There will be very few exemptions granted.  Those crippled and blind will have to find people to carry or to lead them to their hometowns.  Even women who are nine months pregnant (and their husbands) will be unable to get out of this requirement.  We who think the looming fiscal cliff is bad can only imagine how it would have felt to be nine months pregnant and forced to walk to DeKalb or maybe Grinnell to have the privilege of being taxed appropriately.  But that is the world into which Jesus is born.  And as much as we might like to think that things change, in reality, they are often the same.

     Jesus entered the world with the purpose of reminding the people of the world that they were wonderfully fashioned by their Creator and loved incredibly by their Father in heaven.  John 3:16 might be the most pithy statement of this purpose, but it is by no means the only statement or story of that love He bears us.  That God would enter a world so besought by the consequences of those whom He created to redeem a people who do not recognize nor want Him is a testimony to the love of God and to the absolutely incredible lengths to which He is willing to go to restore us to Him.  To be sure, that restoration will involve His death, and terrible pain and suffering before that, but it is an amazing thing to gather here as His people and reflect on the love exhibited in the Incarnation some 2000 years later in the middle of the midwest in the midst of such tragedies.  Why?  Because as people are seeking to place blame in events in our collective lives--blaming guns, blaming bad parenting, blaming violent video games, blaming somebody who buzzed in a killer, blaming mental illness, and blaming whatever else you may have heard that I have forgotten--we know the real cause, and we know that God Himself entered the world to make it possible that you and I and all who would hear the message of His coming into the world would know that the sin and selfishness which is the ultimate cause of such events has already been dealt with on the cross that ends His time as the Incarnation on earth.

     You brood of vipers!  Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath might not be the words of comfort that we wanted to hear today, but are there any words, outside of the story of the slaughter of the Innocents, more appropriate?  You see, while the world is looking to place blame for the events in CT, the shootings out west, and any other seeming senselessness in the world, you and I can gather here and celebrate in the season of Advent that God has judged and will finally judge the world one day.  Those words of promised judgment by God give us hope when there is hopelessness.  Why?  Because John points directly to Jesus.  When the people ask Him if He is the messiah, he says he is unworthy to untie the thong of the one coming.  Why?  Because he knows he needs to repent as well.  Except for his willingness to repent, John the Baptist is little different from Herod.  John understands that it is Jesus’ mission to deal with sin.  The exultation and joy proclaimed in Zephaniah this morning can only be ultimately fulfilled when the sin has been removed from God’s people.  The people who seek to be baptized into John’s repentance can be sorry for their sins and hardness of heart, but only Christ’s baptism will be able to create in them the hearts that God desires.  John knows this, as should we.

     Practically speaking, such understanding ought to make us stand out during events such as this.  On the one hand, we as Christians ought not be participating in the blame game for these tragedies.  We know the cause:  sin.  We also know the cure: Christ’s flesh and blood given and shed for us.  Those on the outside might be tempted to vilify the perpetrator of this tragedy, and he is ultimately responsible for his actions, but those of us gathered here this day can never forget that nothing really separates from him in God’s eyes, except that we have been washed in Christ’s sacrifice.  All of us gathered here today know that we were in God’s eyes murders like the young man in CT.  We have all hated and despised others, and we know from Christ’s teaching that such attitudes are murder in His eyes.  So we internalize that understanding “there but for the grace of God go I.”  When people ask us how we face such evil, why we are not hiding in Montana, why we are not arming ourselves against such evil, we can speak to the redemption we have experienced in our own lives!  The only cure for what ails the world is Christ.  The only protection against evil is the love and power of God.  And that, like John’s other teachings, can give the world around us one of the greatest gifts God has given us:  hope!

     It might be arrogant for me to presume to understand John’s attitude, but having spent the day doing lego robots at the Putnam yesterday, I feel I was immersed in this reading.  Being known as the community pastor or the human trafficking pastor means that I am sought out in public places in the wake of such tragedies.  Where was God while this was going on?  Why didn’t he hit the shooter with a lightning bolt if He really loves little kids and save them?  Do you think it was his mental illness or something else that triggered this?  My favorite questions, though, were the ones asking me how I live knowing that I have seven kids, anyone of whom could be killed in such a tragedy.  Like any good parent, a Christian parent tries to protect his or her children to the best of his or her ability.  But Christian parents should understand the trust that our Lord places in us when He blesses us with children.  Our primary responsibility in relation to those children is to teach them that they are loved and have been redeemed by God.  Some might think that our primary responsibility is provision or protection or encouragement of those children, and that is a significant part of parents’ obligation to their children; but our chief obligation is to teach them of the love that their Father in heaven bears for them.  Why?  Because everything we might think we can accomplish is an illusion.  Life is, quite simply, too fragile for us to ensure.  Death lingers over us at any time.  None of us knows the when and none of us know the how.  Disease, accidents, senseless violence, natural disasters--all can be an enemy of life.  How can we ever hope to protect others perfectly when we cannot protect ourselves?  None of those parents who sent their kids to school on Friday had any inclination they were sending them to their deaths.  Friday morning was just like Thursday and Wednesday and Tuesday and a Friday in November and a Friday in October, just as it was for the loved ones of the adults killed.  And yet, today, all find themselves in a situation of incredible grief, of seemingly unrelenting sorrow.

     Who told you to flee the coming wrath?--It is, of course, at the grave where the rubber of our faith meets the road of reality.  Those parents who believe Jesus is Lord understand the promise of the Resurrection.  We might not be able to protect our children from every evil, but we know the One who can.  We also know that if, in His inscrutable wisdom, He allows us or our children to face tragedy, He, and He alone, has the power and authority to redeem that tragedy.  Even if we are separated by death, we know that in the end we will be united with our loved ones for all eternity with Christ.  That, brothers and sisters, is the consolation of our faith!  That, brothers and sisters, is why it is incumbent upon parents to teach their children of the saving works that He has done.  Without the hope we have in Christ, there is only mourning, sadness, and emptiness.

     As this week proceeds, I am sure the press will notice that some families will handle the stress and sadness better than others.  My guess is that there will be both Christians and non Christians who now face the death of a loved one.  One group will be singing alleluias even at the grave; the other will be left seeking meaning in the senseless.  Perhaps, thanks to our relationship with Bryan and Paul, we will get to hear firsthand incredible stories of redemption.  More likely, knowing Bryan, we will also get to hear incredible stories of those seeking to find the meaning behind it all, seeking an account of the joy that is in the heart of believers.  Think I am nuts?  Think on this: Is there anyone in the world who can better relate to parents who have lost a child than a pastor who has as well?  And is there anyone better able to be heard than Bryan?  Part of this entire story is that the seeds for His glory have already been sown.  We can sit back, pray, and watch the growth bear fruit for God’s glory and further redemption in the lives of those whom He uses to tell His story in the face of such pain.

     All of which brings me back to one of those first questions that seekers might be pondering: How can you be celebrating love at a time of this kind of violence?  The peace we proclaim is not a simple ”let’s all get along,” a hippy dippy love fest in the sky.  The love that we proclaim in the face of violence, in the face of death, in the face of hurt is the love of God.  It is a reorientation from our will be down to His will be done.  It is the utter trust and adoration of a young child.  It is the emptying of ourselves and the trust that He will fill us with His Spirit and then use as to accomplish His will.  One of the revelations of Scripture is that our Father in heaven loves us.  We are His children.  And though we sin and rebel, like the Father in the Prodigal Son parable, He is ever ready for us to return to Him and just as quick to embrace us.  Better still, when He came among us as fully human, fully divine in the Incarnation, he reminded us that we needed to come to Him as children, trusting in His provision, goodness, and power to keep His promises and to do us good.  In the midst of such tragedies it is imperative that we remind ourselves of that love in which He holds us, that love which caused Him to seek our redemption when we could not accomplish it ourselves, that love for each one of us that caused Him to lay down that life for our sake that we might be raised with Him to eternal life.  Our Father in heaven, better than most of us gathered here today, knows the pain of losing a child.  He knows the hurt, the anger, the anxiety, and the quest for meaning.  But only He can give meaning; only He can redeem.  Knowing all that, we come to him this day, praying Lord come again swiftly, kindle in us the light that shines in the darkness, and the love which conquers all.

     Brothers and sisters, there will be other tragedies, some more personal and some more global in perspective.  There will be deaths and diseases and wars and violent acts and other acts of rebellion.  All, however, are held in His hand.  All have already been redeemed.  The cross reminds us every day of His love and commitment to us and His unwillingness to leave us to our own fate; and His empty tomb reminds us of His ultimate power to see us safely to Him.  That is our hope, that is our message, that is the light which keeps us from dashing against the shores of darkness when violence like this rears its ugly head.  Pray that, like John, we may point others in our lives to Him that they may share in His peace, His hope, and His love.

Peace,

Brian†

What not to say in times of grief . . .

     Although we serve a God who gave us two ears, far too many of us think the mouth and tongue must be used to serve Him better.  I know I am guilty of this thought, but I wonder how many others think that our mouths are there to give Him His marching orders or instructions?  Along those same lines, we seem uncomfortable when facing the mourning silences such as what many encountered after the shootings in Connecticut.  And so, trying to be helpful, we tend to say things we should not.  Sure, we mean well, but please pay attention to what you say in times such as this to people in shock or mooring.  Please pray to God to give you the words before they are ever uttered.  But please, please, please, never ever ever let the following words come out of your mouth when trying to explain away a tragedy.  It is far better to sit in silence than to utter these:

(1)  God needed another angel/s.  What kind of god kills people or children willy-nilly to make sure he has enough angles hanging around?  That is certainly not the message of the Gospel.  Like the angels, we are created.  Unlike the angels, though, we can be redeemed!  His promise is that when we rise in glory, we will be greater than the angels.  I confess, I don't fully understand it, nor do I expect that I will this side of the kingdom of God.  But nowhere in Scripture are we taught that we die to be reincarnated as angels.  Nowhere in Scripture are we told that, sometimes, God is short a few angels or humans or any other part of creation, so He needs to reshuffle the deck.  And, if you think we are being hypersensitive to this ridiculous statement, consider it from a child's perspective.  Do you think any child who has heard the statement this week is comforted by these words?  Or do you think, rather, that children live in fear that another loved one will be snatched by God because He is short another angel today?

(2)  God willed this.  It is part of His plan.  Sometimes I find myself nearly as enraged by this idiocy as the idiocy of number 1.  God will that we would live in the garden of Eden in full communion with Him forever.  He did not wish for us to die.  He did not wish for us to suffer.  He did not will for us to weed, for women to suffer during childbirth, for us to suffer mental illness, for us to lack any need.  God only willed good things for us.  We did, however, choose to reject Him.  Now we live in a world beset by sin.  Natural disasters and evil both give evidence to that claim, as does Jesus crying over the death of Lazarus and His lament over Jerusalem's refusal of His love and care.  God can overcome any evil in our life, even death.  He does not, however, will tragedies like this.  He does allows them to occur (part of the consequence of free will), but He does not inspire them or cause them to be committed.

(3)  It's for the best.  He/She/They is/are not suffering any more.  Again, death is never for the best.  God did not intend death.  He can and will overcome it in the life of His believers, but death is never for the best.  Loved ones will feel the loss acutely.  Acknowledge it, in silence in necessary.  But never tell them it is for the best.

(4)  Well, at least you can/have another child / are young enough to find someone else / etc.  At times this makes its way up my personal peeve list, but I understand my sensitivity to the issue.  I heard people say aloud that my classmates who had lost children were young enough to try again/have more, as if all the parents care about are the numbers and not the kids themselves.  But I am often shocked at how often it proceeds out of the mouth of "Christians" when they "comfort" a woman who has miscarried.  God knew us before He formed us in the womb.  He knows the hairs of our heads.  We have infinite value in His eyes and are not interchangeable, just as our children are in our own.  Let's think before we speak.  Our Lord knows the pain of losing a Son unjustly.  Again, acknowledge the loss.  Sit in silence or cry with those grieving, admit you don't understand how such a tragedy can be redeemed, but never ever suggest that their loved one can be replaced by another.

(5)  God never gives you more than you can handle.  Really?  Have you ever dealt with people suffering from depression or recovering from suicide or other addictions?  Lots of people get way more than they feel they can handle.  Such things are often the reason that individuals turn to such things to block the pain.  It is true that God does not intend evil; and it is also true that He will give us grace to bear suffering in His name and glory.  Attacks such as experienced in Connecticut or that men and women see in war or families see in certain neighborhoods in our inner cities or that those enslaved are forced to live with are often more than any human being should ever have to see or experience.  In many cases, such experiences cause all kinds of mental illnesses because we were not meant to see or experience them.  Many events can threaten to overwhelm us.  Those who cling to the death and resurrection of Christ know He has the power to see them through any tragedy, even through death.  But these evils are not given by Him (if we who are evil know how to give good things, then how much more does your Father in heaven), nor is He unaware of the pain experienced by those who suffer.

(6)  Don't be angry at or blame God for this.  I suppose we think we are protecting either the individual or God when we say such things to people who have suffered a tragedy.  Anger is a natural part of the grieving process.  Better still, God gave us psalms of imprecation for use in worship, as well as other examples and stories such as Job or Lamentations.  He expects us to be angry.  He expects us to lash out.  And He has given us the language to do that with Him, at least for a time.  If we worship a God who can do anything, as we claim, there is nothing wrong with being angry that God has withheld His power/grace/etc from a particular situation, at least from our perspective.  Over time, the mourner will comforted by the fact that a loved one is with the Lord and so will be seen again one day, and a follower of Christ will, hopefully, come to the understanding that God's ways are not our ways.  He gives and He takes away, still He is blessed.  We simply learn over time and over our walk with Him that He intends good for us in all things and that He can and does redeem the evil things in our life.

(7)  I don't think I could . . . Several people at the Putnam and in the parish lamented that they did not think they could attack the gunman in Connecticut like the principal, or protect students like one of the teachers.  They are judging themselves on how they think they would act and feeling guilty.  One, those who claim the cross have no need to feel guilt.  We are called to repent of our sins, but He forgets the sins the moment we repent.  Two, do not judge how you think you would behave in a particular situation.  Wait until the event happens, if it ever unfortunately does, then judge your actions.  Failures and successes can teach us a great deal about ourselves.  Our actions in times of emergencies can testify to our love of the Lord and our faith in Him, but those actions are usually inspired by the Holy Spirit in times of need.  My guess is, if you were placed in some horrific situation and knew the likely outcome was your death, you would face it bravely, with grace, and with an eye to helping others.  That is the DNA of your Spirit in Christ in St. Alban's.  And Christians often report moments of clarity, like time itself slows, in such emergencies.  Is the clarity and inspiration to action from within, or is it bestowed as a gift of the Holy Spirit in times of emergency?  Be wise and do everything you can to avoid such situations, but do not fear their occurrence.  After all, nothing can separate you from His love!

As always, if you can think of an irritating statement that caused you to turn away from God in times of need, feel free to share it.  Maybe we can become better comforters of those suffering in our midst.

Peace,

Brian†