Showing posts with label sermon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sermon. Show all posts

Sunday, November 29, 2015

Paying Attention (Welcome to Advent)

Oh my sweet ones, I had a moment in church today.

I am not in church very often. I'm the director of children's and youth ministries, but my Sunday mornings are often spent preparing classrooms and the chapel and rarely in the Sanctuary. I volunteered to do the children's sermon this morning (despite never having actually seen how the children's sermon is normally done at the church I serve now) because it is the first Sunday in Advent. I was going to teach the kids about God breaking into the world and offering the gift of hope to a needy and yearning people. And I guess that is what I told them this morning, but as it turns out, they one-upped me. They often do.

At the end of my children's sermon, I invited the kids to join me in a spirit of prayer as I sat with them at the front of the sanctuary. Since I often pray in front of people, I close my eyes and hold my hands low in front of me, palms up. You know, the "I don't want to fold my hands and bow my head, but I wasn't raised in an Evangelical community so I keep 'em low" sort of posture that is really excellent for use in leading worship in New England. The kids all assume the "head down, hands folded" tried-and-true way of listening and talking to God. 

So I begin to pray about God's love breaking into the world and I feel a little hand slip into my right hand. Oh my gosh, y'all, it was so small. And it was warm. And I gave it a little squeeze to say, "We're in this prayer together and you are welcome in this space with me and I am glad, so glad you are here." And then, a few words later, another hand reached out and found my left hand and, of course, I squeezed that one too, though, to tell you the truth, I am surprised that it's there - that two of the kids reached out and found my hands this morning. 

I am wrapping up this prayer about hope (it really wasn't very long, but I find those moments when you are paying attention, they really seem to stretch out), and I decide that I need to see whose hands are in mine before I close the prayer and send us all off to Sunday school. I just need to know who reached out across the vastness of space and grabbed my hands. So I open my eyes before the Amen and this is what I see:

Every child has found a hand to hold and we're sitting there on the chancel steps, pretzeled together and loving God and each other in that quiet sort of way.

Every one of these kids reached out and found another hand. Every one made some room for Love. Every one of these kids was listening to the call to be present with one another, to love God and each other, and they were acting on it. 

What an invitation! What a welcome into the season of paying attention! I am blessed to have such brilliant teachers to help me prepare my heart during Advent, to make me stop and wonder, to help me pay attention to the little moments of Love shared between us, and to be grateful. 

So some reminders for the Advent season, more for myself than anything else, but you may find them helpful, too:
Be alert - God can show up anywhere and at anytime! Pay attention to Hope, Joy, Love, and Peace; they show up in tiny, little things that we can (and totally do) ignore. Don't ignore them. Don't be so preoccupied with worry, anger, hurt, and fear that you miss them. Make a conscious decision to choose to reach out and take a hand instead of worrying if the hand will be pulled away. Advent is the season of preparing your heart, so do it already.

Remember dear ones, there is a light in the darkness. It cannot be overcome. 

Love, love, love,
Maddie


Thursday, December 1, 2011

Longing & Hope: The First Sunday of Advent

This past Sunday, while I was home for Thanksgiving break, I was blessed with the opportunity to preach at my home church. I told some people who couldn't make it out that the sermon would be up on my blog... so here it is!

"Will it Always Be Winter?"
By Maddie Downer

(Isaiah 64:1-9, Psalm 80:1-19, 1 Corinthians 1:3-9, Mark 13:24-37)


            Today is the first Sunday of Advent. In the United Church of Christ’s lectionary calendar, the theme of this Sunday is longing. Here in our church, we use different themes for the candles. The first Sunday’s candle is hope. I had originally written a sermon about longing, about waiting for something, it was called “Sitting, Waiting, Wishing.” This is not that sermon.

            Last night I was thinking about my sermon and I realized that talking just about longing, just about how Isaiah is yearning for God to make his presence known, that’s only half of it. Longing without hope is a deep and dark place. Longing without hope is despair and loneliness. But, we believe that our longing will be answered, that there will be a light in the darkness, while we are longing, we are filled with hope.

            I thought of a favorite Christmas song of mine, “In Like a Lion” written by Relient K. They originally intended for the song to be a part of the soundtrack for the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, the movie based on the book by CS Lewis. So, whether or not you know the song, you probably know of the book, maybe you’ve seen the movie. Just in case you haven’t been exposed to this great work, here’s a brief intro:

            Four brothers and sisters, Lucy, Edmund, Susan, and Peter Pevensie are sent to live in the countryside during World War II with Professor Digory Kirke; first Lucy, then Edmund, and finally all four Pevensie children find their way into the land of Narnia through a wardrobe in the professor’s house. When they find Narnia, the land is in a state of endless winter, a state it has been in for a hundred years already.

            Relient K’s song, picks up on this key fact, “it is always winter but never Christmas.” They are always longing, but where do they find hope? The chorus of Relient K’s song says,

Cause when it's always winter but never Christmas
Sometimes it feels like you're not with us
But deep inside our hearts we know
That you are here and we will not lose hope
           
The Biblical writers know that feeling well, that waiting on the Lord, the deep longing. We know it, too. Have you ever yearned to be closer to God? Have you ever felt like God was silent, or too far away, or you were too disconnected? I’m sure we’ve all felt a seemingly endless winter at some point… Maybe we felt like people couldn’t understand  us, like an illness had no cure, like we had no hope… Those are our winters.
This is Isaiah’s winter:
Oh, that You would rend the heavens and come down,
That the mountains might quake at Your presence
Behold, You were angry, for we sinned,
We continued in them a long time;
And shall we be saved?
6 For all of us have become like one who is unclean,
And all our righteous deeds are like a filthy garment;
And all of us wither like a leaf,
And our iniquities, like the wind, take us away.
For You have hidden Your face from us
And have [c]delivered us into the power of our iniquities.

And the Psalmist’s in Psalm 80:
                        4 O LORD God of hosts,
How long will You [d]be angry with the prayer of Your people?
5 You have fed them with the bread of tears,
And You have made them to drink tears in [e]large measure.
6 You make us [f]an object of contention to our neighbors,
And our enemies laugh among themselves.

            And in chapter 13 of the gospel of Mark, Mark’s is cautioning – we don’t know when the Lord will come again, so be alert. The sense of disconnection, of waiting, of longing to be with the Lord once more, is there.

            Here, two thousand years later, we are still in the middle of a winter – we are still waiting on the coming of the king, on a new heaven and a new earth, we are still longing to be fully present to the divine, we are still longing for peace and justice for all people, we are longing for a world where children don’t go to sleep hungry, where parents don’t have to decide whether to pay for the house or pay for health insurance, a world where the other 99% of the population is treated fairly, where people aren’t treated as less than based on their gender, their race, their religion, or what-have-you, a world where who you love doesn’t generate hate from others, a world where “ism’s” and “phobias” don’t exist… we’re so far from that now, we’re in one heck of a winter, we’re longing for a change in the weather…

            Thankfully, in our longing, there is a deep sense of hope. Isaiah held onto this hope in the midst of his longing:
            5 You meet him who rejoices in doing righteousness,
Who remembers You in Your ways.
8 But now, O LORD, You are our Father,
We are the clay, and You our potter;
And all of us are the work of Your hand.
9 Do not be angry beyond measure, O LORD,
Nor remember iniquity forever;
Behold, look now, all of us are Your people.

The Psalmist finds hope as well:
            18 Then we shall not turn back from You;
Revive us, and we will call upon Your name.
19 O LORD God of hosts, restore us;
Cause Your face to shine upon us, [n]and we will be saved.

In the New Testament, the disciples’ hope lies in the return of the Lord, the second coming of the King, which they eagerly await. Our great hope, too, lies in the Lord.

However, something Mark said made me think that just waiting wasn’t enough. Mark tells us to ‘keep alert!’ which I think means, start acting now. Keep alert to the injustices in the world and the ways in which God would want us to respond to them. Do all we can in love, work towards respect and equality for all people, cultivate peace… In the middle of our winter, we can sow the seeds of hope.  We must be alert, but not idle. For if the master of the house returns, do we want him to see the house the way it is now? Servants oppressing other servants, some starving, some fighting, the house in disarray? Or do we want to prepare the house as best we can?


We’re headed into the physical season of winter now. The days are shorter, the nights are longer, the air is colder. But, like the Biblical writers anxiously awaiting the coming of the messiah, we too have a reminder of this hope in Jesus Christ, in our remembrance of his birth, in our remembrance of his death on the cross and the great hope that his sacrifice gives to us. We have hope because believe that Christ has died and Christ has risen and Christ will come again.

I encourage you, this winter, to take a look at the places in your life, in our church and community, in our world, that are longing for something – for change, for attention, for love – and start infusing these darkened places with hope. Light a candle, say a prayer, sit with God and recognize the brokenness of our world, our selves… and recognize that in God there is hope, that all things might be made new, that it might be winter now, but soon, yes, soon it will be Christmas.