This year has seemed to last forever, and yet suddenly it seems like Thanksgiving came and went so fast it was a blur. Now Christmas is approaching like a car on a roller coaster going clack, clack, up the hill before rushing down and around and into all kinds of twists and turns that are going to happen whether you like it or not.
It’s times like these that we look to our traditions for comfort and solace. Maybe that’s why I hear so many people say that they just can’t wait to put up their Christmas lights and sing their favorite Christmas songs. Not that we’re able to sing them this year, at least not together, but I can tell you that I’ve been listening to them a little earlier than usual this year. I can’t help but to agree with Angela Lansbury's privileged plea as the high society player, Mame, who lost it all in the Great Depression,
“For we need a little music
Need a little laughter
Need a little singing
Ringing through the rafter
And we need a little snappy
'Happy ever after'
Need a little Christmas now!”
After a year like we’ve had, we need a little Christmas, and we need it now! Maybe that’s why the season of Advent always starts with lighting a candle for hope and sharing a prophetic witness like the one we heard today from Jeremiah that was echoed by Isaiah. I know it’s been a tough year, but I think it’s important to remember that those who first heard that message of hope were displaced and suffering. More than refugees, they were the spoils of war.
That’s not to say that it hasn’t been a bad year for many of us. There are Christians and many others around the world who have been displaced as governments and insurgents wrangle for power. Loved ones have been lost to a disease that is very survivable, except for those that don’t survive it. Healthcare workers are beginning to talk about prioritizing care for those that are the least likely to contaminate them and some are simply quitting with tremendous educational debt on their backs and dreams of a life of service and care unfulfilled.
Our law enforcement personnel remain at risk, largely because of those who are disregarding their own safety and the impact it has on others. Jobs have been lost, and some feel that their freedoms are at risk. Even the sacred trust of a free and open democratic process is being challenged in the hearts and minds of many in this land that has been upheld in the past as the standard for the entire world for free and fair elections.
Oh, we need a little Christmas, right this very moment! We need the candle of hope! We need to hear the Lord say to us, “Look at that stump. Looks like the memory of a tree, doesn’t it? The thing is, even a stump holds the possibility of new life – if I’m involved. When it comes to my word; when it comes to my promise to redeem and renew, there is nothing that can stop it.”
Of course, neither Isaiah nor Jeremiah truly knew what God was doing through them. Some scholars say that they had a king in mind – and maybe even Hezekiah was the suffering servant that God would use to redeem and restore Israel – but the reality is that their vision was just a little too short. They had God’s people in mind, and that’s a good thing, but they had no idea how many people that could include. They also had their sights set a little too low. They were hoping for restoration, while God was working on transformation.
As followers of Jesus, we believe that we know what God had in mind, but I think it’s important to say that if we think that “what God has in mind” does not include the vision of those that came before us, then we might be just as short-sighted as they were.
Here’s what I mean by that. It’s not uncommon to believe in rulers as God’s chosen ones to lead and guide God’s people. In fact, that’s the basis for our election of Elders and Deacons and even Pastors in the Presbyterian Church USA! It’s also not uncommon, particularly in times of uncertainty, to look to the past and long for its return. Neither of these are bad things unless they keep us from experiencing the transforming love of God that is in our midst.
I think that’s why Mark’s gospel wastes no time on stories about Jesus’ birth or lineage – except to say, right from the start, that Jesus is the son of God. Now, in a way that is both a title (like King or Lord) and a calling card. Mark tells us upfront who Jesus is and what he is about, “This is the beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” This guy – Jesus, God’s anointed, holy, one – is the news that is good, and here is how it begins. There is no nativity, no manger, no flight to and from Egypt. No, Mark’s version of Advent is about like this guy...
Are you ready? ‘Cause Jesus is coming! Of course, after the year that many of us have had, you might be thinking, “Well, it’s about time!”
The thing is, according to Mark’s gospel, we aren’t actually waiting for Jesus to come down here and fix everything. In some ways, Jesus is the one who is waiting on us. Jesus is waiting for us to tell more and more of the story of the good news.
Mark’s gospel doesn’t tell us about the “ending of the good news.” It tells us about the beginning, and it begins with a call to action and a promise of transformation. Isaiah said, “Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.”
In other words, if you don’t straighten them out, the Lord is going to do it for you and you might not like that. In the same way, John the baptizer said, “Repent and be baptized!” Then he said, “The one coming after me will baptize you with the Holy Spirit!”
Now, wait a second. That’s the good news? That’s the message of hope, “Clean your room or I’ll clean it for you?” I wouldn’t even say that to my own kids, besides – my own room’s a mess! Still, that’s the beginning of the good news, and we hear it every year. While all the world is selling Christmas and arguing over who is ruining it by overselling it or underselling it, God’s word calls us to take a little time and think about the way we can open ourselves up to the work that God is doing in the world.
Maybe we do that by putting up a fancy light display, or maybe we do it by accepting one another’s limitations and coming together as a community of love like the Peanuts Gang who helps Charlie Brown find redemption with the Christmas Tree that he thinks he killed.
I tell you what, though, the author of Mark would love that scene. Everyone always swoons over the part where Linus tells the story of the birth of Christ from Luke’s Gospel, but for Mark, it’s really all about the death and resurrection of Jesus. In fact, if Mark were decorating a house for Christmas, he would probably just use a plain, empty, wooden cross – because that’s where we find our hope!
We find our hope in tree stumps and dead ends. We find our hope in people of faith who are outside of the church but still calling us to be God’s people. We find our hope in the expectation that nothing, not even death itself, can stop the love of God.
Sometimes we need a season like Advent – a season that no one outside of the church even acknowledges – to stop and get ourselves ready to receive what God has done, the good news that began in Jesus Christ. The beautiful thing is that the good news that began with Jesus is ongoing. God’s immersion of God’s people in the Holy Spirit is ongoing!
Sure, it’s been a tough year, and the Christmas Season is a time when we can hope that people will be a little kinder to one another, even if it’s something we force ourselves to do out of some kind of social compliance. Really, this year I’ll take the win however I can get it, but maybe what we really need, instead of a little Christmas, is a little more light.
Maybe we need to realize that, as it has been said, “all the darkness in all the universe cannot extinguish the light of one candle.” It used to be that headlights and other strong lights were defined by “candle power,” meaning that if you lit 300 candles you would get this much light. I think lights are measured by lumens now, but I really like the idea of a bunch of candles being raised together – like we do on Christmas eve.
I do wonder, though, if there’s a way that we could have that experience year-round. I do wonder if we might come to realize that we are not only capable of lighting a candle for hope in each of our homes, but we are capable of being the light of hope for one another. I don’t mean that we are a reason to hope all by ourselves. No one is that perfect. What I mean to say is that being loved by God in spite of our imperfections is the reason that we can offer hope to others that they will be, too.
Perhaps, then, our song is less about needing Christmas and more about the light of Christ. Perhaps our song is more along the lines of Leonard Cohen’s Anthem. “Ring the bells that still can ring. Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in.”
Friends, you’ve heard the beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, and it includes not only the promise of the Holy Spirit but also the death and resurrection of Jesus and his call to us to be transformed again and again. There is hope in that offering, and it’s the type of hope that says, “I’ve been through it. I’ve suffered, but there’s more to life than loss.”
You may be looking at a stump, or even feeling like one, but all God sees is the good news of Jesus Christ being told again and again through you. This season will come and go, but the story of the good news is far from over. Are you ready to tell your part? Are we ready to tell the sacred story together? I certainly hope so, because this world needs some more candle power.
If we can look to Christ as more than just the reason for the season, I believe we can offer that light. If we can be honest with God and ourselves and one another about the cracks in our lives and relationships that offer space for the light to enter in, I believe that we can offer that light. More than that, if we can even be comfortable with the darkness around us as a space for growth and change, we can offer the hope that begins with an immersion in what God is doing and moves toward the cross and loss and suffering and the new life that God is driving us toward on the other side.
Here’s what that looks like. When I was a kid I remember making a lantern from an old can. I hammered a nail in it over and over to make a pattern, and when I finished I put a light on the inside that cast shadows on the wall in these beautiful shapes that would not be there without the pounding of a hammer.
I’m not about to say that God wounds us to create beauty, but I’m not above saying that God can make beautiful things out of our worst experiences. Not only that, in a time in which we seem to be so racially divided, it’s important to say that darkness is not inherently bad. It is, instead, a good time to note, as the Psalmist has said, “Light is as darkness to you O Lord.”
In the end, there is this one hope that still binds us: the story of the good news of Jesus Christ is without end. It includes you. It includes me. It includes everyone that God loves, which means that no one is left out. In this we trust. In this, we hope, and for this hope we are called to be like a candle joined to every other candle proclaiming hope on this day and every day, and all to the glory of God. Amen!
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