The Candles of Advent

The First Candle of Advent

To say these lines, to speak this part,
we begin in darkness. In silence.

Lost, forgotten
in Grand Canyons
of cynicism deep.

What did I want when I was a boy?
What do I want now?

Have I become too cynical
with too much subtlety
and too little delight?

Lost, in mist and darkness
a dreamer of dreams
looking for signs and wonders.

A spark,
a chance

and something changes.

From nothing
from nowhere

and it is good
or could be.

We light the candle and hope
that when the long night is over
the light will remain.

The Second Candle of Advent

These candles are too small
the light of our fragile, flickering choice
against cold and angry voices,
lonely, broken tears,
and death -

What is a candle or two,
what is my raspy voice
even joined with yours

against a bleak midwinter that
never seems to thaw?
Against the longest night
and a day that never seems to dawn?

But we’ve lit the flame of hope
and now we burn for peace. 

The Third Candle of Advent

Do they know that I’m a fraud?
I don’t feel these things I say
and when I sing
the hymns collapse.

Rejoice
rejoice

The colors change
the candles burn

Rejoice
rejoice

The melody rises
and catches at the back of my throat

Rejoice
rejoice

I am not
but I will

rejoice

The Fourth Candle of Advent

A singer once asked me,
“Do I feel love where I used to feel hate?”

The days are shorter,
the sun is lower.
I am cold and tired.
My feet hurt.

Do I feel love?

Light another candle.
A little more light,
a little more love.

Do I feel love?

Is that why it hurts to remember?
What you did,
Why you left...

I can’t explain.

Forgive?

A little more love,
a little more light.

The Christ Candle of Christmas

At last, after the fever and the frenzy
after longing and loss
after all the things that have slipped away


The ancient and deep merge with the here and now.
A light in the darkness
A song in the silence

The mind, the heart
intellect and intuition
conscious and subconscious
together
whole

The blessed hope
the appearing
the hope of glory

I do not know about tomorrow
Outside, the gunfire continues
warbling emergency sirens fill the air
mothers weeping for their slaughtered innocents

But here
in the light of this flame
you are here.

As small and fragile as they are
we light these candles as a light in the darkness
and that will not be overcome.

The Second Candle of Advent

These candles are too small
the light of our fragile, flickering choice
against cold and angry voices,
lonely, broken tears,
and death -

Against a bleak midwinter that
never seems to thaw.

But we’ve lit the flame of hope
and now we burn for peace.

Gaudete - A Sermon for the Third Week of Advent 2016

The third Sunday of Advent is named Gaudete Sunday – “Gaudete” is the Latin word “Rejoice.” Today is a day for rejoicing. “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say rejoice. Let your forbearance be known to all, for the Lord is near at hand. Have no anxiety about anything, but in all things, by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be known to God.” (Philippians 4: 4 – 6).

Today we rejoice. And this is different somewhat than happiness and good cheer. We hear a lot of songs during these extended weeks of Advent/Christmas about being happiness and good cheer and being merry and bright. But Joy is different. Joy is bigger, deeper, and less dependent upon external circumstances.

Today we rejoice – even if we don’t feel happy and gay and merry and bright. Today we rejoice, even if we don’t have the “Christmas spirit” and our hearts aren’t full of good cheer.  As Pope Francis said in his Gaudete Sunday Sermon last year, “We cannot let ourselves be taken in by weariness; sadness in any form is not allowed, even though we have reasons (for sadness), with many concerns and the many forms of violence which hurt our humanity, the coming of the Lord, however, must fill our hearts with joy.” (Francis)

Even though we may have reason to feel anxious  - world events seem as close as ever to explosive calamity – even though we may have reasons to feel worry – friends and family members in the hospital – even though we may have reasons to fear, we will choose to rejoice today. We will be joyful (if not happy and cheerful) because we know that the Lord is near.

Many biblical scholars believe that the book of Isaiah was not written by one single prophet, but that it is a composite work composed of the words of the prophet along with his students and followers who came later. They believe that our text for this morning (Isaiah 35) and the previous chapter (34) were probably written by two different authors, at different times, but that they have been purposefully arranged this way, next to each other, to heighten the dramatic contrast between them. (Kilpatrick 358) So, even though our text for this morning is a reading from chapter 35, it is good to begin by taking a brief look at chapter 34.

Chapter 34 is filled with doom and destructive gloom, with the stench of rotting corpses. There are mountains flowing with blood and the stars have all disappeared. It is the day of vengeance, burning pitch and billowing smoke. There are dangerous and wild animals in that desert, monsters and desert demons, snakes and buzzards. The land is full of thorns and thistles. And there is no kingdom there.

It is bleak. It is dark. The burning land of despair. It is the wastelands. It is apocalyptically dark, the end of the world as we know it.  It is the place of fear.

But then we turn to chapter 35 and the arid desert now blooms with new and glorious life. The wilderness rejoices and blossoms like a crocus. The Israelite people, living in Babylonian exile, looked back across the burning sand of the Syrian Desert that separated them from their homeland and saw, not the trackless wastes of apocalyptic ash of ruin and decay, but joyful hope.

“At the heart of their dream of a Messiah and his Kingdom has been the vision of the homeland and the return of the exile. Greater than the passion for vengeance on their foes, deeper than the exultation of victory has been the comfort of God’s promise that for them there would come at last a glad homecoming, the great ingathering of the ransomed and the redeemed” (Kilpatrick 358 – 359). They saw a highway leading through the desert of their despair, and they called it The Sacred Way – the road of the redeemed. And they saw themselves - the ransomed of the LORD – returning home, coming back to Zion with shouts, and being crowned with joy everlasting.  Their external circumstances didn’t speak to joy. They were captive. They were prisoners. They were exiles in a foreign and hostile land. Broken. Destroyed. But they saw a vision of joy.

Today, was we wait and anticipate the coming of our Lord Jesus, in his coming as an infant in Bethlehem – which we will celebrate in not too many days, in his glorious coming with his peaceable Kingdom, and in his everyday coming into the now-present of our lives we are standing at the in-between point – between chapters 34 and 35. We are standing between the apocalyptic ash of the burning desert and the lush blooming of crocuses and roses, between streams of burning pitch and streams of water in the desert. We are standing between the long dark nights of cold winter and the increasing light and warmth of spring renewed. We are standing between weak-kneed fear and “Be strong; fear not.” We are standing between despair and joy. Which way will we turn?

Which way will we turn? Back toward the world as it is with chaos and danger around every corner? Or will we turn toward the dawning light of hope and the joy of his coming? Toward the promise of restoration and fulfillment and the blossoming of beautiful life?

Gaudete. Rejoice. Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say rejoice for the Lord is near.

The Blessing of the Crocus

Kilpatrick, G.G.D. “Isaiah: Exposition” The Interpreter’s Bible Volume V. Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press. 1956. Print.

Pope Francis, “Gaudete Sermon – December 13, 2015”

Government by Root and Branch - Sermon for Advent 2, 2016

Isaiah 11: 1 – 10
Psalm 72

We are accustomed to hearing these words from the prophet Isaiah during the Advent / Christmas season. We read them through the sparkled vision of misty, sentimental eyes. We hear them through the warmth of nostalgia and the hope for a glorious future. And this is not necessarily wrong.

We understand the prophet’s words as a messianic prophecy, a description of the coming Jesus Christ, and of his eternal kingdom.  And this is good. And this is true. But this is not all. There is something “lost from the original if we limit the application of this oracle to Jesus Christ. It was realized in him, but it is meant to be realized in all who govern” (Kilpatrick 248).It is good to see the picture of Jesus, our Messiah in this passage, but if we neglect and ignore the meaning for the now-present situation in favor of the ideal, future vision then have missed something important.

Like Psalm 72, Isaiah 11 is intended as a description of an ideal and messianic king, but also as the proper terms to describe the rule and kingship of someone who has just ascended to the throne of Israel and been (symbolically) adopted as “Son of God.” (Scott 247)  It is one part propaganda and one part religious tract. It is hyperbole and challenge. It is a royal, enthronement passage of the then current king as well as (but not primarily) a description of the ideal, and future kingdom.

We should be careful when transposing a text written thousands of years ago in a theocratic monarchy into our current pluralistic, democratic republic. The cultures are very different.  But the texts stand: they are both promises for the rule of the king of those years long ago and for governing officials today. They are the vision of the ideal king that we long for and hope for, but also the standards we should expect from our government officials – especially those who claim to be faithful believers of God’s word.

Both passages (Psalm 72 and Isaiah 11) could be boiled down to a simple platform – to a slogan worthy of any political campaign: “No hurt, no harm will be done...” (Isaiah 11: 9).  The king / governing officials are to lead with integrity, fairness, to uphold justice, to be upright, and constant. They are to have compassion on the poor and the meek, and to save the needy from death. They are to redeem the people from violence and oppression. They are not to give bribes to the rich and the powerful, but to give justice to the poor and the humble.

“The ultimate goal of the struggle against poverty is the elimination of all forms of oppression: racial, social, economic, political, cultural, sexist and so on. Though this may sound utopian,” (and Isaiah’s description of the ox and the lion eating together and infants safely playing with snakes is very return-to-Eden-Utopian), “it is, nevertheless, the goal of those who strive for a more just, participatory, and sustainable society” (Santa Ana 84).

During this season of Advent, as we wait and prepare for the coming of our ideal and perfect King and of his glorious Kingdom we consider these words from the psalmist and the prophet. And as we have a new President-Elect, waiting to take office in about a month, we consider how these passages apply to our world today. Our new president will appoint advisors and cabinet members to help him govern, and we will pray for him and for them.  But we will also hold them accountable to these words.

They are the hope and the challenge of every king and governing official, the dream and the warning. They are the standard and the expectation. There are praises for the king and government that strives for this idealized, utopian peaceable kingdom; there is blessing because they fill the world with the glory of God. But there is warning as well. Woe to the government that ignores these words. And woe to the church that fails to hold government accountable to these expectations.

Kilpatrick, G.G.D. “Isaiah: Exposition” The Interpreter’s Bible: Volume V. Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press. 1956. Print.

Santa Ana, Julio De. Towards a Church of the Poor. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books. 1979. Print.

Scott, R.B.Y. “Isaiah: Exegesis” The Interpreter’s Bible Volume V. Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press. 1956. Print.

O Come… Sermon for Advent 1 - 2017

Psalm 122
Isaiah 2: 1 - 5

First, I’d like to say: “Happy New Year!” You smile because you think I’m early, but I’m not. I’m right on time. We all live under several different calendars – those of us with school age children have the school calendar that begins in August and ends in May, In the Salvation Army our fiscal calendar begins in October and ends in September (I don’t understand it. I just use it.)  And in the Christian church we have the liturgical calendar, the church year that begins today – the first Sunday of Advent. So again, I say: “Happy New Year!” And may it be a happy one, filled with goodness and light.

In the summer of 1914 the world seemed fairly bright. Things were going well. There was hope and a sense that the world was moving forward into a brighter, healthier, wealthier future. This isn’t to suggest that there weren’t significant social issues that needed to be addressed, but there was a sense that the world was getting better.

International trade  was growing with traditional goods as well as new technologies: Electrical goods, chemical dyes, internal combustion vehicles, gold, diamonds, African rubber, South American cattle, Australian sheep, Canadian wheat, etc… goods were bought and sold around the globe. (Keegan 10 – 11)

Of that time, the English journalist Norman Angell wrote in his book, The Great Illusion (1910) that the disruption of international trade and credit that would inevitably be caused by the outbreak of war would either inhibit nations from going to war, or would force them to bring conflict to a swift resolution. (Keegan 10) Because war would be futile, and it was a matter of “enlightened self-interest,” to avoid going to war. (Angell 488)

This Belle Époque was further enhanced by the development of international laws. “It had been recognized then… that the peace of Europe was a matter for the concern of all European countries. There were certain categories of actions that were widely recognized as threatening the peace and security of all states, and as such actions were not supposed to be taken without prior consultation with the other governments” (Lafore 31).

There was also the growing recognition that continued the militarization of nation states would not protect the peace, but would lead to war. Tsar Nicholas II called for an international conference in 1899 to strengthen limitations on armaments and to found an international court dedicated to settling disputes between stations. Tsar Nicholas warned that the accelerating arms race – to produce ever larger armies, heavier artillery, and bigger warships – was transforming the armed peace into a crushing burden that weighs on all nations. (Keegan 17) “It appears evident, then, that if this state of things were prolonged, it would inevitably lead to the very cataclysm which it is desired to avert, and the horrors of which make every thinking man shudder in advance.” (Nicholas II)

And if the bonds of international trade and commerce guided by enlightened self-interest, along with the recognition of the need for international law and the need to check the increasing militarization of nations weren’t enough to keep the peace, there were also the bonds of familial relationships.  The leaders of many of the nations that came to be involved in “the great war” were related either by blood or marriage or both. The Kaiser in Germany was cousin to the Tsar in Russia. “It was broadly true that all European royalty were cousins; even the Hapsburgs of Austria, the most imperious of sovereigns, occasionally mingled their blood with outsiders; and since every state in Europe, except France and Switzerland, was a monarchy, that made for a very dense network of inter-state connections indeed” (Keegan 16).

But in the summer of 1914, when everything seemed good and bright, primed for the increasingly peaceful relations between nations, the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand in Sarajevo sent the world into an extended paroxysm of violent, bloody death, the likes of which the world had never seen, and from which – one hundred years later – we still have not fully recovered. The “war to end all wars” as it came to be known, did nothing of the sort.

World War One came to an end, only to flare up again a few years later in World War Two, which ended but not really. The cold war, Korea, Vietnam, Algeria, Yugoslavia, Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan… the War to End All Wars continues to be fought.

But it will happen. It will happen. It must happen. We must put an end to our incessant warring. The prophet Isaiah had this hope, this faith, this vision – that there would come a time when humanity would put away their weapons of war and learn the ways of peace.

“How desperately our world needs such a faith! Without its inspiration and its power to sustain our search for a way of peace, we are condemned to the dreadful prospect of wars succeeding wars until the human race destroys itself. We have in each generation the strange, tragic spectacle of men endowed with genius, yet wholly unable to learn the art of living together in peace. Even with bitter experience of the horrors of war, every proposal for peace is basically related to the use of force” (Kilpatrick 180 – 181).

The prophet dreams, and I dream and hope and am anxious for that time when I can “lay down my sword and shield down by the riverside, and study war no more.”

“Let’s go up to the mountain of Yahweh,” I rejoiced when they said that, because there we shall learn peace. There we shall learn the peace of God. There we can be united and whole with our weapons put away, our weapons melted down and the instruments of death turned into the tools of production. There our swords will melted down and made into plows and our spears will be hammered into sickles.

Blessed are the peacemakers. Blessed are the peacemakers – they have learned the ways of God and walk in his paths. Peace based on “enlightened self-interest” will not hold. Peace through continually increasing militarization – that is, peace through superior fire power, - is a lie. There is only the peace of God found in love, and grace, and forgiveness.

If we are sharpening our swords, instead of melting them down, then we have not learned the law of God; we have not gone up to the mountain of the house of Yahweh.

Come, please. O Come, let us go up to the house of God, up to the city of peace.

Angell, Norman, “The Influence of Banking on International Relations,” Speech to the Institute of Bankers, London. January 17, 1912. 

Keegan, John. The First World War. New York, NY: Vintage Books, 2000. Print.

Kilpatrick, G.G.D. “The Book of Isaiah: Exposition” The Interpreter’s Bible. Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press. 1956. Print.

Lafore, Laurence. The Long Fuse: An Interpretation of the Origins of World War I. Philadelphia, PA: J.B. Lippencott Company. 1965. Print. 

Nicholas II, “Peace Conference at the Hague 1899” 

Advent 2016 Background Images

I've been somewhat remiss this year about creating and sharing free, weekly background images.  If you were one of the three or four people who downloaded them regularly and were counting on them, I'm sorry.

But, in what I hope is not too little - too late, I am sharing these four images for Advent that you are free, and welcome to download, and to use as your very own. Use them at home, at work, as school, at church, use them in a train, use them in the rain.  Use them in good health.

Singing Christmas Carols for the Revolution - An Advent Sermon

For someone who every year around this time says to anyone who will listen, “I don’t like Christmas!” I have a lot of Christmas music in my collection. It’s almost embarrassing. I have Christmas music of nearly every imaginary style and variety: classical, folk, rock, dance, swing, punk, country, rap, hip-hop, blues, bluegrass, gospel... I have Christmas music sung in English, Spanish, French, German, Russian, and …I have sentimental Christmas music, humorous Christmas music, and angry Christmas music. Lullabies, symphonies, chants, hymns, ballads… Christmas music played on guitars, pianos, hand bells, computers … One might begin to suspect that my professed disdain for the holiday is a bit of hyperbolic affectation – an exaggeration.

And maybe it is. Maybe there is somewhere in my two-sizes-two-small heart, hiding behind the piles of unwashed socks a warm and glowing appreciation, a fondness, even, for the holiday. Especially for the music. But before we get all lovey-dovey and start standing around “heart to heart, and hand in hand” to sing down in Whoville (Geisel), let make this very clear. Even if I do have an extensive collection of Christmas music, I think that most Christmas music is meaningless fluff at best–and garbage at worst.

Science fiction author Theodore Sturgeon used to say that 90% of science fiction is crap. But, he continued, that doesn’t really tell us much about science fiction as a genre because 90% of everything is crap. The same is true of Christmas music. There’s a lot fluff, and noise, and silliness, and–yes- crap that could be forgotten and we’d all be better off.

If those winter songs–like “Jingle Bells” and “Over the River and through the Woods” and “Walking in a Winter Wonderland," which are not specifically about the Christmas holiday–were to disappear, I wouldn’t miss them. I don’t dislike them, exactly, but they don’t add anything meaningful to my appreciation of the Christmas holiday. I wouldn’t miss them if they were gone.

If I never heard another song about Santa Claus, flying reindeer, and magic snowmen ever again I wouldn’t feel the slightest twinge of sadness. “Up on the Rooftop,” and “Here Comes Santa Claus,” and "Frosty the Snowman,” are all but unnecessary. Throw them out.

And if those overly sentimental, sappy, saccharine, emotionally manipulative songs like “Christmas Shoes,” and “Billy’s Christmas Wish,” were miraculously removed from humanity's collective conscience and memory, I would give eternal praises to God Most High.

I’d cut out all the wassailing songs, and the biblically inaccurate songs – “I Saw Three Ships Come Sailing In” would be on the chopping block. How exactly are those thee ships going to come sailing into Bethlehem which is not on any body of water? I’d toss out that beloved carol, “Away in a Manger” because I’ve always disliked the line “no crying he makes.” Seriously? A newborn baby in a room crowded with people and animals awakened in the middle of the night and he’s not bawling? Out it goes.

“But, but, but…” I can see the objections forming, I can already hear the complaints. You’ll say I’ve gone too far. That I’m throwing out the baby (the baby Jesus!) with the bathwater. Maybe I’m exaggerating again. Maybe I am speaking in hyperbole, because even if I were allowed to scissor out all those songs that I don’t like or appreciate, there are Advent / Christmas songs that I would fight – fight – to keep. I would keep the profound carols, the True-with-a-capital-T songs, the revolutionary and subversive Christmas songs.

We don’t often recognize the transformative power of Christmas music, or the subversive nature of some our carols – probably because we’ve buried them under an avalanche of songs about curly head dolls ("Santa Claus Is Coming to Town") and Christmas Hippopotamuses. But these are powerful songs that deserve our attention; they are Christmas carols of the revolution.

Music, done right, is potent and dangerous. Music makes people in positions of power and authority nervous. The American supported military dictator of Chile from 1973 – 1990, Augusto Pinochet, had the folk singer Víctor Jara arrested because of his music. Jara was one of the first of many, many thousands who were arrested, tortured, and imprisoned by Pinochet’s government. Jara was arrested and tortured–his hands were crushed so that he couldn’t play the guitar any more. He was finally executed, shot and killed–because his songs were subversive. His music threatened those in power.

One of the last songs he wrote and recorded was “Vientos del Pueblo” (Winds of the People):

“Now I want to live
together with my child and brother,
in the new world that all of us
are building day by day.
Your threats do not intimidate me,
you masters of misery.
The star of hope
will continue to be ours.” (Jara)

Last week I quoted from the song “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day”  with those striking lines: “Then pealed the bells more loud and deep, God is not dead nor doth he sleep; the wrong shall fail and right prevail, with peace on earth, goodwill to men!”  (Longfellow)

This is powerful stuff. This is revolutionary, if we will hear it.

I think also of the French carol, “O Holy Night” usually reserved for the soloist to make it a ‘special’ performance piece. But it is a song of social justice and revolution:

“Truly he taught us to love one another,
his law is love and his gospel is peace.
Chains shall he break for the slave is our brother
and in his name all oppression shall cease.”
(Cappeau)

This is an insurrectionary song. This is a song of protest and power. Or how about this all but forgotten song – “Masters in This Hall”?

“Nowell, nowell, nowell, nowell sing we clear,
holpen are all the folk on earth,
born is God’s son so dear.
Nowell, nowell, nowell, nowell sing we loud,
God today hath poor folk raised
and cast a-down the proud.”
(Morris)

This is revolutionary. This is dangerous. And political! But it’s absolutely biblical.

Earlier we read Mary’s song from the gospel of Luke (1: 46 – 55) and we sang two different versions of it: “Canticle of the Turning” (Cooney) and “My Soul Gives Glory (Magnificat)” (Mueller). It is (in nearly any version) my favorite of all Christmas songs.

And Mary said,

“My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.

Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.

His mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.

He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.

He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.

He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants forever.”
(Luke 1: 46 – 55 NRSV)

In her song, Mary celebrates not just (not even primarily) the spiritual aspects of the salvation that came to the world in that first Christmas. Her song is an exuberant celebration of the material salvation of the poor and lowly ones – it is a celebration of political revolution where tyrant kings are overthrown the wealth of the richest citizens is redistributed to the poor.

This song, if it were really being read, and sung, and heard, would spark outrage in our churches. Wealth redistribution? Political revolution? These are not the Christian Christmas values we’re accustomed to singing about. Give us Silent Night lullabies and songs about shepherds in the fields (though those songs would unsettle us as well, if we paid attention to them.) Give us songs about Santa and going home for Christmas. We are uncomfortable with Christmas protest songs.

Mary’s Magnificat (so called because of the first line in the Latin translation, “Magníficat ánima mea Dóminum.”) is a rejection of the very things our culture, our country, our world desires: her song is a rejection of wealth and power. It is a rejection of war and empire and conquest. It is a rejection of political rule by sword, and rifle, and jet fighter. It is the overthrow of economic systems guided by principles of greed and self-interest. Mary’s Magnificat is a revolutionary Christmas carol.

Ernest Cardenal, in his collection of comments on Gospel passages by members of the peasant community in Solentiname, Nicaragua, records the following exchange during a discussion of Mary’s Magnificat:

“I asked what they thought Herod would have said if he had known that a woman of the people had song that God had pulled down the mighty and raised up the humble, filed the hungry with good things and let the rich with nothing.

“Natalia laughed and said: ‘He’d say she was crazy.’

Rosita: ‘That she was a communist.’”
(Brown 85)

God’s inclination towards the poor, expressed in Mary’s song, is not isolated to this particular passage; a divine preference for the poor and oppressed runs through the entirety of scripture. (Guitierrez 275) But we very often soften this focus. We hide this message under a pile of worn Christmas platitudes and warm nostalgic feelings. But Mary’s song snaps us back to the biblical message. The Lord hears the cry of the poor.

“I will bless the Lord at all times.
His praise ever in my mouth.
Let my soul glory in the Lord
for he hears the cry of the poor.”
(Foley)

If our Christmas is centered in Santa Claus, and gifts, and nostalgia, if we are singing only of beautiful snow falls, and wassailing, and precocious little drummer boys, if we are not singing songs of revolution and justice for the poor and the oppressed, then we have completely missed the reason for the season. Do we want to, as the slogan says, “Keep Christ in Christmas”? Then our Christmas should be about lifting up the poor and feeding the hungry. Our Christmas should be about bringing down tyrannical powers and toppling corrupt economic structures. Our Christmas should be about making peace and putting an end to war.

The first shall be last and the last shall be first, the lowly lifted up and the high and mighty brought down. The poor will be filled with good things and the rich sent away empty.  

This is Christmas! Merry Christmas, and Viva la revolución!

 

Brown, Robert McAfee. Unexpected News: Reading the Bible with Third World Eyes.

Philadelphia, PA: The Westminster Press. 1984.

Cappeau, Placide. “Cantique de Noel (O Holy Night)” Translated John S. Dwight.

Cooney, Rory. “Canticle of the Turning.”

Foley, John B. “The Lord Hears the Cry of the Poor.”

Geisel, Theodore, How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Random House. 1957.

Gutierrez, Gustavo. Sharing the Word through the Liturgical Year. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books. 1977.

Jara, Joan. "Without Knowing the End." Victor:An Unfinished Song. History Is a Weapon. Web. 

Longfellow, Henry Wordsworth. “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day.”

Morris, William. “Masters in this Hall” ca. 1860.

Mueller, J.T. “My Soul Gives Glory to the Lord.” 

And You, O Bethlehem - A Prophecy without Context

I should begin by saying that I like the book attributed to the 8^th century BC prophet, Micah; some of the passages that I find most inspiring come from his writings. His vision of a time when people will “hammer their swords into plowshares” and give up warring (4: 3), along with his description of what it means to truly follow God: “to do justice, and to love kindness” (6:8) – these words continue to motivate me.

But the more I explore the words of the prophet Micah, the more difficulty I have. It is easy to appreciate these words in an abstract sense, removed from their context, but a text stripped of its context is all but meaningless. Without context a passage is malleable, and can be beaten into the shape of any argument, without regard for the original intent.

And for the prophet Micah, context is difficult to demonstrate. The opinion of biblical scholars on what parts of the book are from the mouth of the prophet, and which parts may be from later editors and redactors is divided. Most scholars agree that chapters 1 – 3 are from the prophet, but very little of chapters 4 -7 are attributed to him. (Simundson 535) The difficulty, then, is to locate a historical period in which to find context for the chapters in question. And there, too, opinion is divided; suggestions range from the time of Hezekiah (and the prophet Micah) to the Maccabean period.

And if the difficulties of locating a historical context weren’t difficult enough alone, the Hebrew text of Micah is a mess. “Although many of the passages present no textual difficulties or only trifling problems, others are badly, perhaps hopelessly, corrupt” (Hillers 809).

Reading Micah is much more difficult than is usually appreciated, especially during this Advent / Christmas season. 

One of the lectionary readings for this Sunday is that famous passage from Micah 5: 2 (or 5:1 depending on which translation you use, another source of difficulty in this book).

“And you, O Bethlehem of Ephrath,
least among the clans of Judah,
from you one shall come forth
to rule Israel for Me -
one whose origin is from old,
from ancient times.”
(Micah 5:1 JPS)

This verse has become a treasured verse for Christians at Christmastime because of its quotation by chief priests and scribes in response to the magi’s question in Matthew’s gospel (Matthew 2: 2 – 6). But Matthew’s citation of this verse does just what we don’t want to do: it strips the words from their context. And, even though it is a treasured verse, part of a beloved story, we should ask-does Matthew’s use of the verse from Micah fit the context of the original passage? If we are willing to read carefully and critically we’ll probably conclude that, no, Matthew has not followed the context of Micah’s words (whether these are from Micah himself or from a later redactor or editor).

“No other chapter in scripture has been more abused by its friends than this. It is one of the scriptural sources of the Messianic hope that was to loom so large in post exilic Judaism. The tradition that Jesus came in fulfillment of this and other prophecies was so early and so deep a part of Christian tradition that it wrote itself into the Gospels…It is hard to believe that anyone who had actually read this chapter carefully could think it had any reference at all to the coming of Jesus Christ. There is little or nothing in common between its central theme and anything he did or said. Actually the gospel records claim only that Bethlehem was the ordained birthplace of the one who was to be ruler in Israel. Once they have ‘established’ that by referencing vs. 2, they walk straight away from everything else in the chapter” (Bosley 930-1).

To put the passage back into context somewhat, we should go back and read through chapter 4. This long expected ruler would come during a time of great calamity and distress, during desecration and destruction, during a great siege by the Assyrians. And during this time the ruler of Israel would be struck on the cheek with a rod. (Micah 4:14)

In response to this the ruler, coming from the humble village of Bethlehem, would rise to power, bringing peace and security. He along with “seven shepherds” and “eight princes” (5: 4) will take the war to the Assyrians. They will invade Assyria and “shepherd Assyria with the sword, the country of Nimrod with the naked blade” (5: 5 NJB).

But does this sound like Jesus? Did Jesus, who was struck and beaten, disgraced by his enemies, take up swords and naked blades to make them pay for their insults and their abuse? Did he make peace by making war?

The more I read of Micah, the more I’m convinced that Matthew used the verse as a proof-text without regard for the context. And I don’t quite know what to do with this. “To lift this prophecy out of history…is to defy the historical element in the prophets. Yet, to obscure the Messianic thrust … is tantamount to defying the divine plan for Israel and the world” (Bullock 120-1).

Bosley, Harold A. “The Book of Micah: Exposition.” The Interpreters Bible: Volume 6. Nashville, TN: Abindon Press. 1956.

Bullock, C. Hassell. An Introduction to the Old Testament Prophetic Books.  Chicago, IL: Moody Press. 1986.

Hillers, Delbert R. “Micah, Book of.” The Anchor Bible Dictionary: Volume IV. New York, NY: Doubleday. 1992.

Simundson, Daniel J. “The Book of Micah.” The New Interpreter’s Bible: Volume VII. Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press. 1996.

God’s Silent Song of Joy – An Advent Sermon

We’ve come now to the third Sunday of Advent – the Sunday usually marked for the subject of joy. In the first week we spoke of the coming messianic king, and the city where he rules, and the people of that community, as well as the name that they all (king, city, congregation) share–“Yahweh Is My Saving Justice.”  In the second week–last week–we spoke of another name, the name that God gives to his people forever, to the people who have wrapped themselves in the cloak of his saving justice–and that name is: “Peace through Justice, and Glory through Devotion.”

The first week’s sermon came from the writings of Jeremiah, and the second’s were attributed to (though not likely written by) Jeremiah’s sidekick and scribe, Baruch ben Neriah. In this third week we continue with another indirect connection to the prophet Jeremiah. Zephaniah, whose words we’ve read this morning, was a contemporary of Jeremiah.

However many biblical scholars believe that the portion of Zephaniah’s book that we’re looking at this morning (3:14 – 20) was added later by a student or disciple of the prophet. “Current study tends to assign the greater part of the book to the 7^th century prophet, recognizing that the book may have been expanded in the exilic and post exilic periods” (Kselman 1078).  The two final psalms that bring this short prophetic book to a close bear significant differences from the rest of the words of the prophet–differences that may indicate another contributing author or editor.

However it was that the words came to us, we will speak, and sing, and shout for joy today:

“Shout for joy, daughter of Zion,
Israel, shout aloud!
Rejoice, exult with all your heart,
daughter of Jerusalem.”
(Zephaniah 3:14, NJB)

This extended holiday season between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Eve–which encompasses Advent and Christmas (as well as numerous holidays in other religious traditions) is often described as a season of joy. It is bright and cheerful. We put up trees, and wreathes, and decorations, and lights to warm our hearts against the cold winter winds and blowing snow (of which, we’ve had very little this year…).

We sing: “Joy to the World,” (Watts) and “Rejoice, rejoice this happy morn, a Savior unto us is born” (Boye). We sing: “Once again my heart rejoices as I hear, far and near, sweetest angel voices; ‘Christ is born,’ their choirs are singing, till the air ev’rywhere now with joy is ringing” (Gerhardt).

It is a time of festivities and parties, a time of celebration and joy.  We give gifts and eat special cookies. We gather with family and enjoy ourselves.

But, for many, the holiday season is not all warmth, and smiles, and Christmas joy. There is grief, and pain just below the surface. There is loneliness and weariness. It’s not often recognized but holiday depression is a very real thing. Though it is a myth that suicide rates increase during the Christmas season (Burton) many individuals feel socially isolated from their peers who seem to be enjoying themselves so much. Those who have lost a spouse or partner often find the holidays especially difficult to endure. And even those who usually find joy and good cheer during this time of year, may find themselves troubled by the news of the world. The days seem dark and the nights very long. Joy, for many of us, is hard to see. The song of Joy is difficult to hear.

I’ve said for the past two weeks that the season of Advent is a time of expectation, a time of preparation, and anticipation. We are looking forward to the joyful celebration of Christ’s coming–both the celebration of his coming as an infant in Bethlehem as well as his glorious coming again. But before we move forward into that joy it is important (and necessary) to look backwards first. Before we can go forward in anticipation of that great joy, we should look back to see where we’ve been.

Our text, these final two psalms of joy in Zephaniah’s book, is addressed to the Jewish exiles who’d been taken away into Babylonian captivity. These psalms bring a hopeful epilogue to a book otherwise focused on the judgement and destruction of the dark and dreadful “Day of the Lord.” But the coming of the day of Lord was, for Zephaniah, not only a time of grim punishment for the wicked –both in Judah and in the nations around – but also a day of salvation and restoration. It was both Retribution and Redemption. (DiGangi 99)

After the extravagant destruction of the city of Jerusalem, after the plundering and razing of Solomon’s temple, after long years of exile in a strange and distant land, the people of Judah, the inhabitants of Jerusalem, the people of Israel were encouraged to sing and rejoice because their time of trouble was over, their shame was lifted, their sentence repealed. They would go home again. They would stand on the hills and watch their children, once forcibly scattered, come back from the various places they had been taken.

Shout for joy, daughter of Zion,
Israel, shout aloud!
Rejoice, exult with all your heart,
daughter of Jerusalem.
(Zephaniah 3:14 NJB)

But even better than the opportunity to go home again.  Even greater than the restoration of their abducted children. Even greater than these things – they were to sing and shout for joy because Yahweh, their saving God and King would be there with them, would be there among them.

In his vision of the city of Jerusalem, just before its destruction, the prophet Ezekiel saw the Cherubim, those winged creatures that carry the heavenly throne of God, rise up from the center of the city, and “with the glory of the God of Israel” depart from Jerusalem. (Ezekiel 11: 22 – 23).  In another apocalyptic book attributed to (but not written by) Jeremiah’s scribe, Baruch is said to have heard a voice crying out from the abandoned temple:

“Enter, you enemies,

And come, you adversaries;

For he who kept the house has forsaken (it).”
(2 Baruch / Apocalypse of Baruch 8:2)

The people of Israel, the chosen people felt abandoned by God-forsaken, left to wither away and die in the despair of their Babylonian exile. But, after so many long years, the prophet tells them to Rejoice! You’re going home. Rejoice, your children are coming back to you. But most of all: Rejoice because God is with you.

When that Day comes the message for Jerusalem will be:
Zion, have no fear,
do not let your hands fall limp.
Yahweh your God is there with you,
the warrior-Savior.
(Zephaniah 3:16 NJB)

And, what is more, He will be rejoicing too.  He will be singing happy songs (Zephaniah 3:17 NJB)

But this is where the message gets a little difficult. The Hebrew of the text is fairly clear with its words, but what to make of them is problematic; which is why you’ll find such variety when you compare the various translations of Zephaniah 3: 17.

The Hebrew of that verse says: “He will be silent in his love.”

He will sing happy songs with the returning remnant of Israel – but he will be silent with his love. His song is a silent song. Some translations, like the KJV, take a different tack to this verse and translate it as “He will gather them that are sorrowful for the solemn assembly.” If the words are clear, the meaning is uncertain.

But I like to try to hold both of these possible translations together in my head. He will gather the sorrowful together for a solemn assembly / he will sing (silent) happy songs of love over the returnees.

There is joy in this holiday season. There is joy in the advent preparation for Christmas. But sometimes that joy is hard to find. Sometimes that song of love is hard to hear.

I think of the carol, “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day”- which was based on a poem by Henry Wordsworth Longfellow-written during the sorrowful years of the American civil war. Longfellow’s wife had recently died, and his eldest son, Charles, had run off to join the union army without his father’s permission or blessing. It was only a few months before Charles was severely wounded in battle. And for the poet, the world seemed very bleak. The bells rang out on Christmas day, but there was no joy in their song.

“And in despair I bowed my head:
‘There is no peace on earth,’ I said,
‘For hate is strong and mocks the song
of peace on earth, good will to men.’”

For the people living in great darkness, under the shadow of death (Luke 1:79) the light of dawn seems very far away, and that song of joy is hard to hear. The people of Israel languishing in exile felt abandoned by God, lost in their darkness; they could not hear the song. African born slaves on plantations in the American south, listened for that song. People who’ve lost their husband or wife, or their children, listen hopefully for that strains of that song. Refugees fleeing the outbreak of war in their home countries cannot hear that song over the noise of explosions and gunfire. But God is singing a song of love for his people-great happy songs for those he loves.

The darkness of the world seems ready to swallow up the light of God’s presence. The noise and clatter of the events of our lives can drown out the music of God’s love for us. It is easy to despair. It is easy to give up, to say that God has given up on us, on me. It is easy to say we are lost and alone. Hate is strong and it mocks the song of love and joy and peace and goodwill.

But God is drawing those sorrowful people together for a solemn assembly. He is drawing us together with himself to sing for us and to us and over us.

“Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:

‘God is not dead, nor doth he sleep;

the wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
with peace on earth, good will to men.’”
(Longfellow)

We are joyful because God is with us. This is the reason for the season: that God has come down and dwelt among us, has made his home, his temple within us. We rejoice because God is with us, even when his silent song of love is difficult to hear. We rejoice, even in our despair. We find hope and joy in God’s eternal, abiding presence.

In the dark shadows of our lives-God is with us. In the noisy clamor of our struggle-God is with us. He is bringing the light of hope and a song of love to the sorrowful people that he has gathered to himself for a solemn assembly. He sings this happy, silent, song of love into our hearts. And we sing and rejoice because he is here.

O come now, Living Water, pour your grace,
and bring new life to every withered place;
speak comfort to each trembling heart:
“Be strong! Fear not, for I will ne’er depart.”

Rejoice! Rejoice! Take heart and do not fear,
God’s chosen one, Immanuel, draws near.
(Lundblad)

Boye, Birgitte K. “Rejoice, Rejoice This Happy Morn.”

Burton, Neel, “Is Suicide More Common at Christmas Time: Seven Myths about Suicide.” Pscyhologytoday.com, December 23, 2012. 

DiGangi, Mariano. 12 Prophetic Voices: Major Messages from the Minor Prophets. Wheaton, IL: Victor Books. 1989.

Gerhardt, Paul. “Once Again My Heart Rejoices.”

Longfellow, Henry Wordsworth. “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day.” 

Lundblad, Barbara K. “O Come, O Come Immanuel”  

Kselman, John S. “Zephaniah, Book of” The Anchor Bible Dictionary Vol. IV. New York, NY: Doubleday. 1992.

New Jerusalem Bible. New York, NY. Doubleday. 1999.

Watts, Isaac, “Joy to the World.” 

God’s Silent Song of Joy

“Sing!” says the prophet,
“Sing and shout in great rounds of joy-
psalms, and hymns, and spiritual songs,
chants, and raps, and choruses
of festal joy.

For the king who is above all
is, above all,
among you.”

And this king of rich justice sings too;
rejoicing over us with happy songs,
dancing festival dances
with whoops of joy.

But

He will be silent in his love,
gathering them that are bruised,
and those who grieve
for solemn assembly.


(Zephaniah 3: 14 – 18)

A Christmas of Crows, a Carol of Birds

A Christmas of crows, perched in the wind
on telephone wires, with black feathered wing;
their bleak carols over lonely fields bend,
“caw” for his coming, take flight for the king.

Fly finches, and sparrows, and small wrens,
with each of their melodies fluttering;
for with Advent a new year begins
and their bright carols and hymns we will sing.



There is also a traditional Catalan carol "Carol of the Birds."

Peace through Justice, Glory through Devotion - An Advent Sermon

In last week’s sermon for the first week of Advent drawn from the writings of the prophet Jeremiah, I spoke about the name of the anticipated messianic king, the name of the city where he would rule, and the name of the congregation that is assembled there. That name, we discovered, is: “The Lord is my Vindicator” (JPS) or “The Lord is my Righteousness” (NRSV) or “The Lord is my Saving Justice” (NJB).

I want to continue this second week of Advent thinking about longing, and about new names and justice. We’ll also continue our connection with the prophet Jeremiah, though only from a distance. One of the texts we’re looking at this morning is from Baruch 5: 1 – 9, part of what is known by Protestants as “the apocrypha” and by Roman Catholics as “the Deuterocanonical books.” It is attributed to Baruch ben Neriah (Baruch 1:1 /Jeremiah 43:6) who was the prophet Jeremiah’s amanuensis, that is: Jeremiah’s secretary, scribe, and sidekick. But most biblical scholars doubt that the historical Baruch[i] is the author of the book apocryphal / deuterocanonical book that bears his name. It seems to have been written much later.

I said last week that while Advent is a season of anticipation, of looking forward, in order to do so we need to go backwards first. And so we will.  The book claims to have been written five years after the Jewish people were conquered by the Babylonians and taken into exile and is intended to call the people to repentance, to pray for mercy, to encourage them to seek wisdom, and to give them hope for the future. As I said, however, it is unlikely that the book was actually written at that time. “The Babylonian exile was not a living reality for the author or editor of Baruch. Rather, it was a theological context for reflection on the covenant between God and Israel” (Goff 73).

And we will read it as such, for, like the Jewish people in Babylonian exile, and like those of the actual author’s time, we feel the encompassing darkness of despair and hopelessness. We are afraid. We worry about the future. In the cold December of our lives, the hopeless time of sin when shadows deep have fallen (Hawhee) we need comfort. We need joy. We need hope.

The world around us seems to be crumbling, shaking itself apart in paroxysm of doom, and violent outbursts of rage and destruction. We are a people in perpetual mourning as the news continues to bring us report after report of murder and mayhem. Churches are bombed; mosques are vandalized; synagogues are defaced. Children are shot in the streets. Bombs explode in cities around the world. Bombs are dropped on countries around the globe. Machines of war roll through the rubble of smoldering cities chasing millions of frightened refugees from homes. We lower our flags and hang our heads and we despair because the world has gone mad.

We are people who “live in darkness and the shadow dark as death” (Luke 1:79 NJB).

If we are frightened by world around us, who could blame us? We want to be safe. We want to be secure in our homes. We want our families to be protected and defended from danger. And the world is full of danger: many that we know, many more that we may not know. We want peace. We want to live in peace, but peace, like dawn, seems very far away to the people living in darkness and the shadows of death.

We want peace. We want to live in peace.  And in the long ages of the earth, one method of achieving peace has been tried and taught and tested over and over again. And even though it has failed to ever achieve peace, it continues with us. This age old idea is that peace can be achieved through strength, that peace can be maintained through superior firepower. President Theodore Roosevelt was neither the first, nor the last to utilize a “big stick ideology.” He wrote in his autobiography that “… a proper armament is the surest guarantee of peace” (Roosevelt), and in ancient Rome they said, “Si vis pacem, para bellum.” – If you want peace, prepare for war. The idea is the same.

But the big stick idea of “peace through strength” or “peace through superior firepower” has never really achieved peace anywhere in its long history.  The Motto of the United States’ Strategic Air Command “Peace through Strength, Victory through Devastation” is not very different than the words recorded by the Roman historian, Tacitus: “To ravage, to slaughter, to usurp under false titles, they call empire; and where they make a desert, they call it peace” (Tacitus).

But this isn’t peace. Not really. It is violence. It is war. It is fear, not peace. It is destruction and devastation. It makes only desert and desolation. It is all those things we say that we don’t want. Most people will usually agree with General William Tecumseh Sherman, who said that “War is hell.” But when we’re frightened or angered or threatened, we’re quick to pick up our weapons and go willingly into that hell and to unleash that hell on those we perceive to be our enemies.

But this is not peace. And if it does result in a cessation of warfare, it does not last. The defeated party suffers death and devastation; they are angry and humiliated and despairing. They may surrender in defeat, but they are not at peace. And the victors may receive the spoils of war, but they can never relax. Their strength must be vigilantly maintained. That firepower must be renewed incessantly. Vast resources must be consumed in order to maintain a paranoid level of preparedness – ever watchful, ready to inflict death and destruction, ready to unleash the next round of hell on earth. This is not peace. This is not freedom from fear.

Our reading from the Gospel of Luke today (Luke 1: 68-79) is the priest Zechariah’s words to his infant son, John, who would grow up to become John the Baptizer. Zechariah said to his boy:

Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel,
for he has visited his people, he has set them free,
and he has established for us a saving power
in the House of his servant David,
just as he proclaimed,
by the mouth of his holy prophets from ancient times,
that he would save us from our enemies
and from the hands of all those who hate us,
and show faithful love to our ancestors
and so keep in mind his holy covenant.
This was the oath that he swore
to our father Abraham,
that he would grant us, free from fear,
to be delivered from the hands of our enemies,
to serve him in holiness and uprightness
in his presence all our days.
And you, little child,
you shall be called Prophet of the Most High,
for you will go before the Lord
to prepare a way for him,
to give his people knowledge of salvation
through the forgiveness of their sins,
because of the faithful love of our God
in which the rising Sun has come from on high to visit us,
to give light to those who live
in darkness and the shadow dark as death,
and to guide our feet into the way of peace.
(Luke 1: 68 – 79 NJB)

This is what we want, right? To be delivered from our enemies, without fear, to be saved from the hands of those who hate us. This is what we want, right? To have the fearful darkness of our lives dispelled by the rising Sun who guides our feet into the way of peace.

This is what we say that we want. But I’m not sure that we mean it.

Instead of peace we are pursuing war. As a nation we spend trillions for an ever expanding military preparedness, and as individuals we purchase more and more powerful firearms. On this most recent “Black Friday” (November 27, 2015) alone, the FBI’s National Instant Criminal Background Check System (NICS) performed 185,345 background checks on those individuals purchasing firearms. That’s enough to equip an army (Owens). We say that we want peace but we are preparing for war.

“Peace with a club in hand,” says an old proverb “is war.”[ii] This is not peace. The world has been making wastelands and calling it peace for millennia. It is time to say enough. We are tired of the desert. We are tired of the devastation. It’s time to say, “I’m going to lay down my sword and shield and study war no more” (Down by the Riverside) because peace through strength has not brought us peace.

“Come, let us go up to the mountain of Yahweh,
to the house of the God of Jacob
that he may teach us his ways
so that we may walk in his paths.”
For the Law will issue from Zion
and the word of Yahweh from Jerusalem.
Then he will judge between the nations
and arbitrate between many peoples.
They will hammer their swords into plowshares
and their spears into sickles.
Nation will not lift sword against nation,
no longer will they learn how to make war.
Isaiah 2: 3-4 (NJB)

In our text from the Apocryphal Baruch we read these words of hope:

Jerusalem, take off your dress of sorrow and distress,
put on the beauty of God’s glory for evermore,
wrap the cloak of God’s saving justice around you,
put the diadem of the Eternal One’s glory on your head,
for God means to show your splendor to every nation under heaven,
and the name God gives you for evermore will be,
“Peace-through-Justice, and Glory-through-Devotion.”
Arise, Jerusalem, stand on the heights
and turn your eyes to the east:
see your children reassembled from west and east
at the Holy One’s command, rejoicing because God has remembered.
Though they left you on foot
driven by enemies,
now God brings them back to you,
carried gloriously, like a royal throne.
For God has decreed the flattening
of each high mountain, of the everlasting hills,
the filling of the valleys to make the ground level
so that Israel can walk safely in God’s glory.
And the forests and every fragrant tree will provide shade
for Israel, at God’s command;
for God will guide Israel in joy by the light of his glory,
with the mercy and saving justice which come from him.
(Baruch 5: 1-9 NJB)

Last week we spoke about the coming of that messianic king, and the city and the people of the congregation whose name is “The Lord is our Vindicator” or “The Lord is our Salvation” or “Yahweh is our Saving Justice.” And we want that to be our name. We want to be that city of righteousness. We want to be that holy people. Just was we want the new name in this week’s reading: “Peace through Justice”

In his new year’s day message for the celebration of the day of peace in 1972, Pope Paul VI said, “"If you want Peace, work for Justice” (Pope Paul VI).  This is how peace is made. Not through bigger and more powerful and more abundant weapons. More guns will not make peace between us and our enemies. More tanks, more bombs, more missiles will not bring us peace to the earth.

There is no Peace without Justice.

Do we want to live at peace and security? Then we must pursue justice. We must put down our weapons and work for righteousness. We must stop threatening each other and begin to work for the good of everyone. This is how you make a lasting peace that is something more than the devastation and ruin of the desert. 

We must put off the garments of sorrow and distress and fear and put on the new clothes that God has for us; we must wrap ourselves in the cloak of God’s justice. Justice for everyone. There can be no exploitation of the weak, there cannot be two standards of justice-one for the rich and powerful and another for the poor and marginalized, in this beautiful city called “Peace-through-Justice, and Glory-through-Devotion.” The people of God, who really and truly want peace, must not be ready and waiting to call down fire from heaven, to unleash hell on their enemies.  The people of God will seek justice – even for their enemies, so that there will be no cause for them to be enemies.

This is true and lasting peace, without fear, without the shadow of death hanging overhead.

We are to be, during this season of Advent, preparing ourselves for the coming of Jesus, both in our celebration of his birth in Bethlehem and in his glory at the end of all things. But how are we to prepare for the coming of the prince of peace if we are still preparing for war?

In a recent morning mediation, Pope Francis said: “Jesus weeps, because we have chosen the way of war, the way of hatred, the way of hostility. This is even more glaring now that we are approaching Christmas: there will be lights, there will be celebrations, trees lit up, even nativity scenes... all decorated: the world continues to wage war, to wage wars. The world has not comprehended the way of peace.” (Pope Francis)

This Advent season, when the world around us seems lost in the darkness of death and fear and perpetual war, let us begin the dawning of a new light, the light of God. Let us work for justice-in our homes, in our cities, in our states, in our nation. Let our name be: “Peace-through-Justice, and Glory-through-Devotion.” Do we want to, as the slogan says, “Keep Christ in Christmas”? Then let us begin even now during this time of Advent. Let’s put down our weapons and build up that city of Righteousness with justice for all. We will be fair, acting without discrimination, without hatred and without fear. This is how to celebrate Christmas. This is how to make peace.

Let us bring Glory to God in the highest heaven and make peace on earth (Luke 2: 14). 

Federal Bureau of Investigation. "NICS Firearm Background Checks Top 10 Highest Days."

Goff, Matthew. “Baruch” The Oxford Encyclopeida of the Books of the Bible.  Oxford.

Oxford University Press.  2011.

Hawhee, Howard (translator) “Cold December Flies Away” – Catalonian Christmas Carol.

New Jerusalem Bible. New York, NY. Doubleday. 1999.

Owens, Bob. “Americans Bought Enough Guns Black Friday to Create a New MilitaryBranch.” 

Pope Francis. “The Way of Peace.” Vatican. November 19, 2015. 

Pope Paul VI. “If You Want Peace, Work forJustice.” Vatican.  January 1, 19712. 

Roosevelt, Theodore. Theodore Roosevelt: an Autobiography. 1913.

Tacitus. Agricola. Oxford Revised Translation. 1897.

---

[i] And Historical he may have been. In 1975 a clay bullah (an impression of a seal in clay) was found with the inscription, “[belonging to] Baruch son of Neriyahu the scribe.” The authenticity of this find is debated, but the potential is certainly there.

[ii] Described across the internets as a “Portuguese proverb” but I can’t find an authoritative source.

Baruch 5: 7 -8 An Advent Haiku

level ground and smooth
through fragrant forest shade
Jerusalem

Its Name, His Name, Our Name - An Advent Sermon

A few weeks ago, I made a detour from the standard lectionary readings to spend a few weeks preaching from the Confessional passages of Jeremiah. That was a good thing and I was glad to do it, but I was relieved to return to the lectionary texts when that series was done. Jeremiah may be one of my favorites, but he’s better in small doses; he can be a bit overwhelming. So, I was amused when the lectionary texts chosen for this first week of Advent brought be back to the prophet Jeremiah.

“See, days are coming-declares the LORD-when I will fulfill the promise that I made concerning the House of Israel and the House of Judah. In those days and at that time, I will raise up a true branch of David’s line, and he shall do what is just and right in the land. In those days Judah shall be delivered and Israel shall dwell secure. And this is what she shall be called: “The LORD is our Vindicator.” (Jeremiah 33: 14 – 16 JPS)

This will be an Advent sermon, yes, leading us to think about the coming of Jesus, preparing our hearts for Christmas, and leading us forward into greater hope for the future, but in order to get there we need to go back to the days of the prophet Jeremiah and the last King of Judah, King Zedekiah. In order to go forward, we need to go backward.

Zedekiah, the third son of the good king, Josiah, was given the name Mattaniah “gift of Yahweh” at birth. His father, the good king, the young king Josiah, was killed on the field of battle against Pharaoh Necho. Necho first appointed Mattaniah’s brother Jehoahaz the puppet king of Judah, but he only ruled for three months before being deposed by Pharaoh Necho, and imprisoned. Jehoahaz was replaced by the other brother, Jehoiakim. But, according to the historians who composed the books of Kings, he also “did what was displeasing to the LORD” and only ruled for 11 unpleasant years. Jehoiakim’s rule was brought to an end by King Nebuchadnezzar and the Babylonians. Jehoiakim died during the Babylonian siege of the city of Jerusalem and his body was thrown outside the walls (Jeremiah 22:19). Jehoiakim was succeeded by his son, Jehoiachin–but only briefly. After three months and ten days, Jehoiachin, along with 3,000 of the leading citizens and officials of Judah were taken away into captivity by Nebuchadnezzar. 

Jehoiachin was succeeded by his uncle, Mattaniah-now renamed Zedekiah by King Nebuchadnezzar.
During his time as king-as puppet king, answerable to Nebuchadnezzar, Zedekiah was not criticized by the prophet Jeremiah, as his nephew and brothers had been. But this isn’t to say that he was a good king. His new name, Zedekiah, means “My Righteousness is Yahweh;” Zedekiah, however, never quite lived up to the import of that name.

He was a weak king-but this isn’t entirely his fault. His father, Josiah, had attempted to rule between the rock and the hard place between two powerful empires, Egypt and Babylon, and was squashed. His brothers and nephew had flip flopped their allegiances, trying to preserve the little nation of Judah’s independence. But they could not. And when Jehoiachin and the court officials were taken into exile by Nebuchadnezzar, 21 year old Zedekiah was left without any experienced political advisors. Jeremiah described those who were left as “bad figs.” (Jeremiah 24)  Zedekiah was never accepted as the legitimate king of Judah; even after he was taken away into captivity, the people still considered Jehoiachin as their rightful king.

Jeremiah repeatedly counseled the desperate king to bite the bullet and to surrender fully and completely to Nebuchadnezzar, to accept the inevitable. But the bad fig advisors in Zedekiah’s court and the people of Judah still insisted on trying to make a go of it. Zedekiah felt unable to accept Jeremiah’s advice, and the bad fig advisors pushed the weak king to try to hold out against the Babylonians, by making an alliance with Egypt again. (Althann 1069) Nebuchadnezzar responded, as you would expect, with force. The Babylonian army came and laid siege to the city again and during those 30 months the city experienced the worst sorts of woes and every desperate depravity. Before the city was captured, Zedekiah and his family attempted to escape, but they were captured and taken to King Nebuchadnezzar. Zedekiah’s sons were executed in front of him and then his eyes were gouged out so that the last thing he ever saw was their gruesome deaths.

The city of Jerusalem was razed to the ground. Solomon’s Temple was plundered and destroyed; its treasures were taken away to Babylon. And the rest of the people of Judah were taken into captivity; only a few–of the poorest people of the land-were left. This is where we must begin when we consider the words of the prophet spoken during the final year of Zedekiah’s troubled kingship.

“See, days are coming-declares the LORD-when I will fulfill the promise that I made concerning the House of Israel and the House of Judah. In those days and at that time, I will raise up a true branch of David’s line, and he shall do what is just and right in the land. In those days Judah shall be delivered and Israel shall dwell secure. And this is what she [the city of Jerusalem] shall be called: “The LORD is our Vindicator.” (Jeremiah 33: 14 – 16 JPS)

Ever the ironic prophet, Jeremiah preached imminent doom and destruction during years of prosperity, now the destruction he’d prophesied was near at hand (indeed, the army was camped just outside the walls) and he’s speaking of blessing, of salvation and restoration and security.

In this darkest hour, Jeremiah anticipates the coming of a “true branch” (JPS) a “righteous branch” (NRSV) – “the Righteous Branch” (KJV).  But this is no eschatological, world conquering hero. (Hyatt 988) He is not a military leader to ride into battle against the Babylonians, to fight in armed combat against Israel and Judah’s enemies. This Davidic scion would bring salvation and security through his righteousness. The Hebrew word “Righteous” here is “zedek” and is probably intended as a play on the name of the failure king. King Zedekiah did not live up to the righteous expectations of his name. But the word also implies “rightful” and “lawful” and “legitimate,” another dig at Zedekiah, “whose name suggests legitimacy-but who [was], in fact, a Babylonian vassal” (Brake 776).

The hope that Jeremiah sees in the future for Judah and for Israel is a good and rightful king who is a legitimate descendent of David, and who will rule in justice and righteousness. This would be Judah’s deliverance. This would be Israel’s security.  And it is because of this justice and righteousness that the city of Jerusalem would become known as “the Lord is our Vindicator” (JPS)

Other translations give the city’s name as:
“The LORD is our Righteousness” (KJV, NRSV)
“The LORD gives Justice” (CEV)
“The LORD is our Salvation” (GNT)
“God Has Set Things Right For Us” (The Message)

The city that had become a “horror-an evil-to all the kingdoms of the earth, a disgrace and a proverb, a byword and a curse” (Jeremiah 24: 9 JPS) in its utter destruction at the hands of the Babylonians would in days to come become such a wonderful place that it is called by God’s own name, known as the place of Yahweh’s Righteousness, the place of the LORD’s Saving Justice.  Its name would be “The LORD is our Vindicator.” Its name would be “The LORD is our Salvation,” “the Lord is our Justice,” “our Righteousness.”

I said that before we can go forward, we need to go backward. And here, as we’re just beginning to look forward with longing to the coming of this Righteous Branch, this good and righteous Davidic King who would bring restoration and security to the city of Jerusalem, we need to go backward a little bit further.

The passage chosen for us by those who established the standard lectionary readings (Jeremiah 33: 14-16) actually quotes from an earlier section of Jeremiah with a small, but not insignificant, difference.  In Jeremiah 23: 5 – 6 it says:

“See, a time is coming-declares the LORD-when I will raise up a true branch of David’s line. He shall reign as king and shall prosper, and he shall do what is just and right in the land. In his days Judah shall be delivered and Israel shall dwell secure. And this is the name by which he shall be called: “The LORD is our Vindicator.” (Jeremiah 23: 5 – 6 JPS)

Did you note the difference? In 33: 14 – 16 it is the city of Jerusalem that will be known as “The LORD is our Vindicator” or “The LORD is our Righteousness” but in the earlier passage (earlier in the book as well as earlier in the book’s sometimes disordered chronology) it is the righteous king himself who will be known by that divine epithet. The emphasis in this earlier prophecy is on the man; in the latter the emphasis is on the city.  The earlier passage is more “messianic” (though messianism is not really prevalent in the whole of Jeremiah’s writing. Only a few passages in his book could arguably be considered messianic: 23: 5 – 6 / 33: 14 – 16, 30: 8 -9, and 33:17.)[i]

I thought it odd that the lectionary reading for this first Sunday of the Advent season would take the less messianic passage. It seems like a no brainer, to me anyway. If we want to start our thinking towards the coming king of Israel, the messianic king, the prince of peace, the great desire of nations, the righteous branch, the noble son of David that brings Saving Justice to the whole world, why not, when you have the choice between two very similar readings, go with the one that puts clear emphasis on the One whose name is “The LORD is our righteousness”?

But while the Advent season (despite all the indications to the contrary, it is not Christmas season yet…) does prompt us to anticipate the coming of that “Rose e’er blooming”, that “flow’ret bright” (Baker) of Jesse’s lineage – both in his coming as a child in Bethlehem and his glorious eschatological coming, Advent also prompts us to anticipate the coming of that King of Israel’s kingdom, the coming of the New Jerusalem, the coming of heaven to earth.

When the Babylonians destroyed the city of Jerusalem, they plundered the Temple of Solomon and carried off its many treasures as the booty and spoils of war. But the Ark of the Covenant was lost. Did it go to Babylon? Was it destroyed during the siege? Was it carried off to Ethiopia? Or Egypt? No one knows. One legend says that the prophet Jeremiah, having been warned of the imminent destruction of Jerusalem and the temple, snuck the Ark out of the temple and hid it in a cave on Mount Nebo. (2 Maccabees 2: 4 – 10) No one really knows.

But the prophet Jeremiah wouldn’t have been concerned by its absence. He envisioned a time when “men shall no longer speak of the Ark of Covenant of the LORD,” when it would not even come to mind. The people would not “mention it, or miss it, or make another.” It would be a time when Jerusalem became the “throne of the LORD” and all nations would assemble there in the name of the Lord. (Jeremiah 3: 16 – 17 JDS)

The Medieval French Rabbi known as Rashi, commenting on this passage, said it would be a time when the whole assembly was so imbued with the spirit of sanctity and righteousness that God’s presence would rest upon the congregation as if they were themselves the Ark of God’s Covenant. (Rashi)

We are to be this congregation. This is to be our name.

“Sing choirs of New Jerusalem
Your sweetest notes employ;
the paschal victory to hymn
in songs of holy joy!”
(Cambell)

In the New Testament John, imprisoned on the island of Patmos, saw a revelatory vision of temple of heaven opened, “and the ark of his covenant was seen within his temple; and there were flashes of lightning, rumblings, peals of thunder, an earthquake, and heavy hail.” (Revelation 11:19 NRSV)

And where is this heaven? Where is this kingdom? Where is this city so righteous that its name, and the name of its king, and the name of its assembled congregation is “The LORD Is our Righteousness”?  Do we anticipate it? Do we desire to see it? Do we long for it?  This advent season is a time to consider the coming kingdom of God.

But not merely to think about it in abstract meditation. We are not merely longing for it with some vague wistful hope. Do we want to, as the slogan says, “Keep Christ in Christmas”? Then let us begin even now during this time of Advent. That Righteous Branch and his Heavenly Kingdom are not far removed from us as they were in Jeremiah’s day. For the Kingdom has come and is among us. I’ve frequently quoted William Booth, the founder and first General of The Salvation Army who said, “Making heaven on earth is our business.” (Booth)

Do we long for that Righteous Branch and the city of God? Then work for justice and righteousness. Put away all violence and warring. Feed the poor, clothe the naked, visit the sick and the imprisoned. This is the kingdom of God; this is making heaven on earth. Do we want our name to be “The LORD is our Saving Justice”?  Then do good, and be good. Make peace. Make love. Make joy. And God’s holy presence will dwell upon us, and we will live in peace and security.

“How bright appears the Morning Star,
with mercy beaming from afar;
the host of heaven rejoices.
O Righteous Branch, O Jesse’s Rod,
the Son of Man and Son of God!
We too will lift our voices:
Jesus, Jesus, holy, holy
yet most lowly, come, draw near us;
great Immanuel, come and hear us.
(Mercer)

Lord, Make our name, “The LORD is our Righteousness.” Amen.

Althann, Robert. “Zedekiah” The Anchor Bible Dictionary Vol. 6. New York, NY: Doubleday, 1992.

Baker, Theodore – translation. “Lo How a Rose E’er Blooming” (German Traditional) 1894.

Booth, William. “Don’t Forget” 1910.

Bracke, John M. “Branch” The Anchor Bible Dictionary Vol. 1. New York, NY: Doubleday, 1992.

Cambell, Robert. “Sing, Choirs of New Jerusalem”

Hyatt, James Philip. “Jeremiah: Exegesis” The Interpreters Bible Vol. 5. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1956.

Mercer, William. “How Bright Appears the Morning Star.” 1859

Rashi 

Wassink, Matthew W. “A Biblical Theology of ‘RighteousBranch’ in Jeremiah 33” 

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[i] There is the difficulty, however, that 33:14 – 16 is not included in the LXX Greek translation of Jeremiah. So the question is: “is it more likely that an authentic passage was deleted from the LXX translation or that an un-authentic one was added to the MT?” (Wassink 2) Either way, for the purposes of this sermon we will accept the text as we have it, with both passages.