Tomorrow's Sermon
Jan. 4th, 2014 01:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chrishansenhomeOne of the great humbling glories of preaching is that the things that happen to you and the things that you do in response can often be used to illustrate your words to other people.
Right now I’m searching for bargains in Tesco’s at the Elephant. There are specials on Christmas biscuits, 1 pound slabs of Stilton cheese, brandy sauce, and potential Christmas gifts that might be worth salting away for Christmas 2014.
In many ways there’s nothing more boring than an English Christmas. There’s no public transport. All the shops are closed. None of the radio or television programs you’re used to are broadcast on Christmas. Instead we’re treated in the run-up to the holiday to interminable advertisements for Christmas food, Christmas gifts, Yuletide cheer, and specials on alcohol and turkeys. One of our major department stores puts out an advertisement every year that’s guaranteed to make us want to break out the tissues, shed a tear for Christmases past, and rush out to the shop for some Christmas comfort food.
One thing we don’t search for is Christmas itself. The hustle and bustle we endure on the way to Christmas is meant to obscure the holiday itself. It urges us to search for the perfect gift, the correct experience, and the very liquid office party.
Our commercial masters do not want people to look for Christmas itself. The meaning of the holiday for them is sales. Artificial cheer is their stock in trade.
So imagine yourself as one of the Wise Men—please accept my apologies for Matthew’s overlooking the many wise women that were around in those days. Where would we find Christmas today?
Let’s first go to the newsagent at the bus stop on New Kent Road. He’s not there every day, or at all times during the day, but there is a gentleman who sits there, mute, no cup in hand or hat at his feet. Cleaned up and beard tidied a bit, he could serve as one of the classical Wise Men, but not Santa, as he’s a bit gaunt.
We pass him by every day, and many others like him. Can we find Christmas in poverty?
Now we turn to the Philippines. The typhoon that recently passed over the central islands of that nation has made children into orphans, made families with housing into homeless refugees, and turned people who earned a living into people asking for food. We have all seen the results on television and in the newspapers. We give money to the relief efforts, and pray that their lives can be rebuilt. Can we find Christmas in disaster?
And now to the West of Britain and the South Coast of England. Storms and flooding have made Christmas into a nightmare for many thousands of families. Without electric power, or heating Christmas dinner turned into cold baked beans eaten with a spoon from a tin. Flooding has been the result of near continuous rain and high winds and tides. A young man out to take pictures of the sea has been swept away and probably drowned. Can we find Christmas in the floods?
When we think of the efforts of people worldwide to help alleviate the hunger of those who are homeless or who have no job and no support, we can find Christmas there.
When we hear of those who risk their own lives to assist in saving the lives of others who are in danger from extreme weather, we find Christmas there.
For what is Christmas but selfless giving of self to others? There was no obligation upon God to become a mortal human, really. God could have chosen to remain aloof from humanity and its trials and tribulations, the servant of sin and injustice.
Finding Christmas for yourselves is an exercise that can happen any time of the year, not just in September when the shops start putting the Christmas puddings on their shelves. Christmas is any opportunity that we have for transformation of our minds from that urban aloofness we use to blend in with the crowds to care for others who are in need, just as we are in need.
I found Christmas this year on New Year’s Day, oddly enough. I was on the Tube at the Elephant, waiting for the train to start up and get me to Waterloo Station, where there was bound to be an open newsagent where I could get a Guardian.
As I sat in the carriage, I heard shouting from the staircase, and saw a large loud aggressive man walking toward the train. I moved to the next carriage, and hoped he would stay put.
At Lambeth North, two young women dashed into the carriage. One put her arm around the other, who was sobbing, and tried to comfort her. The train doors closed and we were on our way to Waterloo.
When we got there, I alighted and was walking toward the exit when the young woman who had been crying caught up to me and asked, “Can I walk with you?” “Of course,” I said.
On our way to the exit I discovered that she had been followed through several stations on the Northern Line by the shouting man, and was fearful that he would assault her. She was Persian, and she was on her way to Kingston. I escorted her out of the Underground, gave her a hug, and hoped that the rest of her journey would be more pleasant.
The Wise Men found Christmas by following a star, but sometimes Christmas finds us.
Therefore to the One who has come into the world to be found, Jesus Christ, be ascribed all might, majesty, dominion, and praise both now and evermore. AMEN.
January 5, 2014 The Feast of the Epiphany
Sermon delivered at St. John the Evangelist, 10AM.
First Reading: Isaiah 60:1-6;
Epistle: Ephesians 3:2-3,5-6; Gospel: Matthew 2:1-2
“Go and find out all about the child.”
In the name of God, the one, the Undivided Trinity. AMEN.
Sermon delivered at St. John the Evangelist, 10AM.
First Reading: Isaiah 60:1-6;
Epistle: Ephesians 3:2-3,5-6; Gospel: Matthew 2:1-2
“Go and find out all about the child.”
In the name of God, the one, the Undivided Trinity. AMEN.
Right now I’m searching for bargains in Tesco’s at the Elephant. There are specials on Christmas biscuits, 1 pound slabs of Stilton cheese, brandy sauce, and potential Christmas gifts that might be worth salting away for Christmas 2014.
In many ways there’s nothing more boring than an English Christmas. There’s no public transport. All the shops are closed. None of the radio or television programs you’re used to are broadcast on Christmas. Instead we’re treated in the run-up to the holiday to interminable advertisements for Christmas food, Christmas gifts, Yuletide cheer, and specials on alcohol and turkeys. One of our major department stores puts out an advertisement every year that’s guaranteed to make us want to break out the tissues, shed a tear for Christmases past, and rush out to the shop for some Christmas comfort food.
One thing we don’t search for is Christmas itself. The hustle and bustle we endure on the way to Christmas is meant to obscure the holiday itself. It urges us to search for the perfect gift, the correct experience, and the very liquid office party.
Our commercial masters do not want people to look for Christmas itself. The meaning of the holiday for them is sales. Artificial cheer is their stock in trade.
So imagine yourself as one of the Wise Men—please accept my apologies for Matthew’s overlooking the many wise women that were around in those days. Where would we find Christmas today?
Let’s first go to the newsagent at the bus stop on New Kent Road. He’s not there every day, or at all times during the day, but there is a gentleman who sits there, mute, no cup in hand or hat at his feet. Cleaned up and beard tidied a bit, he could serve as one of the classical Wise Men, but not Santa, as he’s a bit gaunt.
We pass him by every day, and many others like him. Can we find Christmas in poverty?
Now we turn to the Philippines. The typhoon that recently passed over the central islands of that nation has made children into orphans, made families with housing into homeless refugees, and turned people who earned a living into people asking for food. We have all seen the results on television and in the newspapers. We give money to the relief efforts, and pray that their lives can be rebuilt. Can we find Christmas in disaster?
And now to the West of Britain and the South Coast of England. Storms and flooding have made Christmas into a nightmare for many thousands of families. Without electric power, or heating Christmas dinner turned into cold baked beans eaten with a spoon from a tin. Flooding has been the result of near continuous rain and high winds and tides. A young man out to take pictures of the sea has been swept away and probably drowned. Can we find Christmas in the floods?
When we think of the efforts of people worldwide to help alleviate the hunger of those who are homeless or who have no job and no support, we can find Christmas there.
When we hear of those who risk their own lives to assist in saving the lives of others who are in danger from extreme weather, we find Christmas there.
For what is Christmas but selfless giving of self to others? There was no obligation upon God to become a mortal human, really. God could have chosen to remain aloof from humanity and its trials and tribulations, the servant of sin and injustice.
Finding Christmas for yourselves is an exercise that can happen any time of the year, not just in September when the shops start putting the Christmas puddings on their shelves. Christmas is any opportunity that we have for transformation of our minds from that urban aloofness we use to blend in with the crowds to care for others who are in need, just as we are in need.
I found Christmas this year on New Year’s Day, oddly enough. I was on the Tube at the Elephant, waiting for the train to start up and get me to Waterloo Station, where there was bound to be an open newsagent where I could get a Guardian.
As I sat in the carriage, I heard shouting from the staircase, and saw a large loud aggressive man walking toward the train. I moved to the next carriage, and hoped he would stay put.
At Lambeth North, two young women dashed into the carriage. One put her arm around the other, who was sobbing, and tried to comfort her. The train doors closed and we were on our way to Waterloo.
When we got there, I alighted and was walking toward the exit when the young woman who had been crying caught up to me and asked, “Can I walk with you?” “Of course,” I said.
On our way to the exit I discovered that she had been followed through several stations on the Northern Line by the shouting man, and was fearful that he would assault her. She was Persian, and she was on her way to Kingston. I escorted her out of the Underground, gave her a hug, and hoped that the rest of her journey would be more pleasant.
The Wise Men found Christmas by following a star, but sometimes Christmas finds us.
Therefore to the One who has come into the world to be found, Jesus Christ, be ascribed all might, majesty, dominion, and praise both now and evermore. AMEN.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2014-01-05 06:10 am (UTC)You are very kind.
Thank you.
no subject
Date: 2014-01-06 03:17 pm (UTC)Even in losing ALL THAT MONEY at the casino.. I still found and kept Christmas in my heart this year! There was something about this past Christmas.. ended yesterday , if you're a believer of 12 days of Christmas! This yr I was!! :)
Did you ever hear that song I posted awhile back that I listened to when I was very very young? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3pfleWvA9C4 - the little boy who couldn't find Christmas!! Roy Rogers & Dale Evans! Awesome song.. to an ending yu'd ENJOY!
Happy New Year!!
♥