Sermon of December 11, 2005 Charles Orme-Rogers

One of my earliest childhood memories is linked to a Christmas event. It seems that at a very early age (a toddler, I believe), I had acquired a habit of sleeping with canned goods. I would apparently go down to the cupboard before bedtime and drag out the peas, carrots, green beans, corn, and lima beans and lug them upstairs and toss them in my bed. The reason behind this I am not really sure - and I hope there are no child psychologists with us today - but frankly I believe that this habit sort of alarmed my parents to some degree. So, one of my first memories in life was going down stairs early on a Christmas morning and seeing a big stuffed toy lion waiting for me by the tree. It was one of the biggest surprises of my life and I believe, in some respects, that event has molded my anticipation of Christmas for the remainder of my life. Incidently, to my parent’s relief, I attached to that stuffed lion immediately and never slept with vegetables again.

Well, that Christmas incident has started me wondering - What if we could have that same excitement of waiting in the Advent season that we used to have in waiting for the coming of St. Nick? I still remember the excitement and anticipation of Christmas morning – the warmth of our living room, the scent of the tree, the darkness outside and the subtle twinkle of Christmas lights inside, the good food, and the excited togetherness of the family. My dad would ring some old sleigh bells on Christmas morning and my brother and I would bound down the stairs in anticipation. Sometimes there was snow outside, and that made the scene seem just that much more intimate and picturesque – a real Norman Rockwell type of feeling. Yes, these were really good times, and I have always, in some way or another, wanted to recapture them for myself and recreate them for my own children. For me, as a child, this time of Advent was the anticipation of something wonderful – an anticipation of not only gifts, but of the sheer magic, beauty and awe of the season. Anything seemed possible. We were excited about the birth of the baby Jesus - God who had come to earth - and we were open to the mystery that was, and still is, a part of our lives.

So what’s happened to that wonder, that magic, and that sense of awe in our lives? In many ways it seems that the anticipation that is inherent in the season of Advent has been replaced by hectic schedules, shopping, parties, and an array of schmaltzy movies that often seem to reduce Christmas to the rediscovery of affection among estranged family members. That’s not necessarily all bad, but what has happened to Christ in all of this? What has happened to the anticipation of God among us – the incarnation?

Well, it appears that our sense of recognizing the profound awe, beauty, and movement of God in our lives has often been replaced by consumerism - buying this and that to fill the emptiness that we clearly feel but are not quite sure from where it comes. And in complete juxtaposition to this, it is exactly in this time of Advent that we are asked to slow down and open ourselves up to the Spirit of God that is moving around and within us. It is in this time of Advent that we are building on our memories of Christ’s love that has come to us before and the ever expanding newness of Christ that will unfold to us in the future. It is now that we are to sit still in the presence of God in prayer and thanksgiving and discern God’s will for us. As John reminds us today in the gospel, we are to testify (like him) to the presence of Christ in our lives. John was calling the people of his day to repent (to turn around) and live into a new relationship with God through Christ - a relationship which was a threatening change to secular and religious authorities of his day. Is that counter-cultural message any less threatening to today’s culture and lifestyle? I think it still frightens many in authority. What would happen to our nation’s economy if people really started valuing Christian principles over financial principal? John’s cries in the wilderness are to set straight the way of God - to change our way of life - to remove the obstacles that block us from hearing the voice of God in our life - that block us from realizing integrity in our relationships.

That is a particularly tough challenge in today’s world. Many of us in the U.S. live unbalanced lives - we excessively value money, work too much, eat poorly, don’t exercise (or are obsessed by it), and don’t leave enough time for rest, play, and prayer. There doesn’t even seem to be enough time for daily living, let alone time for slowing down and listening for God in the busiest time of the year. While the natural world is slowing down, we seem to be speeding up. How are we possibly going to be able to enter into these quiet times of preparation? Well, perhaps we need to look at the priorities in our lives.

A friend of mine was telling me about a cousin of hers who wanted to make a commitment to live a more contemplative and fulfilling lifestyle - to be able to recognize the work of God in her life and appreciate the awe and splendor of the simple pleasures of life. So she went to a monastery and sought spiritual direction from one of its oldest and most respected members. After he had listened to her intently for several days without much of a reply, she started to get a little restless for some advise. So she asked him to give her some suggestions. He asked her to write down the things she “just had to do” in her life. So she prayerfully developed the list and on the last day of the retreat, she returned to him with 64 items. He looked at it very closely and then, without hesitation, asked her to cut it in half. So, several weeks later she returned to the monastery, feeling very proud of her new list of 32 things that she just had to do in her life. He looked at it again, weighed the items, and told her to cut it in half again… She got the point. And so can we. In order to prepare ourselves for discerning the work of God in our lives, we need to take the time out to look deeply - to listen for that whisper of God’s Spirit in our hearts. We may need time to reflect on John’s call to repent - to turn around from the many possible things in life that may block us from making straight the way for the Lord. To me, there have been many points in my life when I have been asked to tear down the hurdles that I have set up for God to jump over in order to be with me. And, when I have been able to remove these hurdles - when I have been able to turn around - I have cleared the way to see Christ in a new way and have built upon the anticipation of being with God in ever expanding ways.

Advent is a time of expectation, longing, waiting, and preparation for things to come. It is a time when John’s voice announces that Christ is near, asking us to wake up, and prepare ourselves for God’s liberation. And in this coming of God, particularly in the human form of Jesus, we may rejoice. We proclaimed today in our readings the wonder and greatness of God and the rejoicing that is in our hearts when we recognize the light of the one who is to “come in human form”. We can, like John, be witnesses that testify to our experiences of Christ in the world. Our testimony can rejoice in the work of God in our lives and may, in fact, help lead others to faith and closeness to God and a recapture of that magic and miracle in their lives.

So can we recover the wonder and awe that we enjoyed as children while we waited for Christmas? I believe so. When we slow down, wait, and prayerfully ask God to expose the truth of the light of Christ - when we invite God into our hearts and minds - we start to experience the awe and mystery of God’s way in our lives. When we slow down and take the time to pay attention, we start to see the work of God in our dreams, in the love expressed in our relationships, and the beauty and creativity of our natural world. And once that experience of seeing God in our lives starts, we begin to await in awe and wonder the next moment of God at work in our life. We begin to understand the mystery of Christ’s incarnation, not intellectually, but in our hearts - and we see and await the continual and ever-increasing revelation of the divine in our midst. For me, that beats waiting for Santa Claus any day of the week.