SERMON

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 8, 2002

CHURCH OF THE REDEEMER

The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God

The very first words of the Gospel according to Mark command our attention for their stark and direct introduction to the very heart of our faith.  We are the people of Jesus Christ.  Our handbook and message lie within the context of the GOOD NEWS, the story of the life and work of an obscure, ordinary Jew, born two millennia ago in the land of his forebears, in whose very obscurity and ordinariness God chose to reveal God’s self to the world.   We are about Jesus and the news that we call good.  Most of us would hesitate to label ourselves “Jesus people”, recalling the rather negative image that such a phrase suggested back into the 1960’s and 1970’s.  Yet that is who we are.  Our vocation as followers of Jesus speaks out loud and clear in the midst of our Baptismal vows.  Question:  “Will you proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ?”  Answer:  “I will, with God’s help.”

Like all the other Baptismal promises this one is bold and unequivocal.  “The beginning of the Good News of Jesus Christ” is the story we tell, and at this time of year when we are pulled, indeed seduced, away from our spiritual vocation as Christian people, we have to check around us and within us to see if we are truly people of the Good News and real disciples of Jesus Christ.  The heady commercial version of Christmas is nothing if not decorative, sweet to the taste buds, indulgent, and merry.  The old cry “Let’s put Christ back into Christmas” is so true that the words are a cliché.  Not only are we pulled away from our Christian vocation by the malls and catalogues and decorated self indulgence of it all, we also have to face the realities of life in December 2002.  You and I live in a vastly anti-Christian world, politically as well as demographically.  While the blame for our status may be in some part our own, given our history of expansionist evangelism and moral self-righteousness or even our moral smugness, we serve little purpose examining why we are a low point.  People who love the Good News of Jesus Christ are obliged to do something about the failure of the Christian family to stand up for what it believes and cherishes.

The compiler of the Gospel according to Mark did not complete his work.  He was in a great hurry to turn the spoken record into a concise story for the world of the Roman Empire.  He leaves out much after declaring that his was the beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ.  I am not talking about the obvious omission, such as the Nativity story, the Virgin Mary, and certain beloved parables found in other gospels.  I mean that in its incompleteness there exists an invitation to you and me to write the rest of the story.  The Gospel does begin but it does not end.  The remaining chapters are the responsibility of the disciples of Christ from the moment of the Resurrection right down to today. 

I wish that everyone here could have heard the talk given by Bishop Stephen Charleston, Dean of the Episcopal Divinity School, who was our guest on Wednesday for the Advent Series.  His topic was “Keeping the Faith in Troubled Times”.  And he was excellent, plain speaking, and deeply spiritual.  I keep hearing his voice as I write these words for today.  After enumerating the many troubles that beset the world in our time, he turned to the faith we share and how we keep that gift alive in our hearts and lives despite the real problems all around us.  While he accepts the honored notion that Advent is a time of expectation, he made clear that it is a time of fulfillment as well.  As we look ahead to the familiar stories and traditions of Christmas, in the midst of Advent itself comes the opportunity to accept the year-round, bountiful blessing of faith, the faith that God loves us unconditionally and that we can move into the depth of that love hopefully and trustingly.  The richness of God’s forgiveness, encouragement, patience, and love is accessible.  Again, we are invited in to the closeness of God, into the intimacy of God that Henri Nouwen wrote about repeatedly.

Let me try to explain the idea of invitation in light of a personal experience.  As most of you know, I am dealing with some fairly challenging realities in my life right now.  Surgery for prostate cancer happens on January 6.  A disease called myasthenia gravis is having a field day in my nerves and muscles, and I am facing retirement from the active parish ministry.  For the most part I have tried to be brave and put on a good face.  The various things going on with me are certainly important to my prayer.  So it was that Sherry and I went away to Cincinnati to be with our three sons, their wives and fiancée, and our five grandchildren.  I was determined to keep a low profile in terms of my various concerns while there.  Bolster by the loving band of family, I did just the opposite.  My anxiety came out in almost entirely negative ways, and I was a difficult guest to say the least.  Well, as luck and the Holy Spirit would have it, those who love me confronted me, and the light dawned.  Painfully and slowly I began to admit how fearful I am.  I learned that I did not need to bottle up my feelings or let them sneak out in hurtful ways.  Instead the full embrace of forgiveness and comfort took over, and I experienced a real catharsis.

Return to Sermons Page