Monday, December 17, 2012

Light Breaks Through the Darkness

What follows is the transcript from the sermon I preached this past weekend in response to the CT shooting.

Peace,
Chris


Dec 15, 2012

“Light Breaks Through the Darkness”


For me, Fridays mean a day off and a day off typically means one thing: grocery shopping. I know, I lead an exciting life. This Friday was typical; got the kids off to school and headed off to run some errands and do the grocery shopping. Little did I know during that time what was transpiring in CT. It wasn’t until early afternoon after the groceries were unpacked that I first heard of the shooting. I quickly looked up an article online and began to read the horrifying news. The TV was changed to a national news outlet. I watched the recounting of the tragedy that had unfolded. I looked at the pictures and videos that were coming forth. I listened to the interviews. Through it all, I felt as if someone had kicked me in the gut. My heart began to ache. Like many other parents I’m sure, my thoughts were drifting to my own children and I wanted them to be home from school so desperately. I needed to see them. More than that, I needed to hug them and tell them I loved them.

In the midst of the many thoughts that flooded my mind, I also thought about our worship gatherings this weekend. There was no debate, I just knew: the sermon would be different. I simply felt compelled, as pastor of this congregation, to speak to the tragedy that has unfolded. I didn’t know what to say. I really didn’t know HOW I would say it.  Every time I began to think about speaking to you, my emotions would begin to take hold of me. I didn’t know how I would be able to hold back the tears. Perhaps I shouldn’t try. A good cry together may be what we all need.

So, here we are on this 3rd Sunday of Advent. Ironic or not, my message was about how Christmas invites us to become like children once again. In the end, that message may remain, albeit differently. It is also of note that the candle we lit today was the candle of joy. I don’t think we are feeling much joy right now.

Today, the message is different. For one, when do you ever see me with notes? No, today there is no nice story to pull it all together. Today, I have much to reflect on. I want to share thoughts on faith, tragedy, humanity, and where we go from here. I hope what I say is coherent and helpful. I am speaking to you both bluntly and vulnerably.

I want to begin with this: there is no making sense of this. I repeat, there is no making sense of this. We all want to. We search for some answer, some line of reasoning. But we can’t find any. Often in times of tragedy we can point our fingers at some cause, at some awful answer, whether it is a natural disaster or a tragic accident, anything that at the least helps us regain some sense of control, some sense of sanity. But as we consider someone opening fire on a classroom full of children, ending 20 precious, innocent lives and the adults who cared for them, there is no answer. For us to begin to move forward, we have to accept that there are times when we just can’t make sense of something. This is one of those times.

The next thing I want to say is that whatever your feeling is now, whatever your reaction might be, it’s normal because there is no “normal” at times like this. I have found myself filled with sorrow and anger. I have felt emptiness and overwhelming love and compassion. We will not all react and respond alike. Some will want to talk and others will remain silent. Both are acceptable. We need to be patient and understanding with those around as we work through this.

Among the many “normal” reactions at a time like this is questioning God, even being angry with God. We ask questions like, “How could God let this happen?” and “Why didn’t God stop this from happening?” Our faith is called into question. Others seize times like these as evidence that God doesn’t exist. How do we reconcile a loving God with such tragedy? But let me be clear, this tragedy and others like it, say far more about us, about the state of humanity, than it does about God. I have preached often about issues of the promise of our salvation. I’ve preached about free will, about how we are not puppets on a string. We have the freedom to choose, even when those choices are wrong, when those choices sometimes have devastating results. They are still OUR choices and OUR responsibility. I’ve preached about God’s presence with us in the most trying times of our lives. In scriptures it is made clear that suffering is indeed a part of this world. Faith never promises an escape from that. But, the promises of God do tell us that this suffering is not the end. God has indeed overcome the suffering, overcome evil, overcome the grave, and God will wipe away our tears. In new life in Jesus Christ, we realize these promises and we are freed to experience real and lasting hope, peace, joy, and love.

No, I believe that it is time for us to reflect upon… us. We want to question God, but we should be questioning ourselves. We attempt to dissect the behavior of a crazed man shoots children in a classroom. It would be more fruitful to examine our own behaviors. Everyone stop for a moment. Now, think about this past week. What are the things you have complained about or criticized in that time? In what ways have you been more selfish than generous? How were you negative rather than positive? How much have you taken for granted? How many people have you invited to Christ? Need I go on?

We find more reasons to divide ourselves than we do to come together. We fight over parking spaces and belittle each other over politics. Already the political rhetoric is flying over issues like gun control and separation of church and state. Social media is once again filled with accusations and finger pointing. We scream about fiscal cliffs and stock market reports. Emotional and physical violence is rampant throughout our communities. Throughout all of our arguments and shouts and finger pointing and name calling and complaining, people need help. There are millions in this world without enough to eat. Children are being bullied in our schools, some to the point of taking their own lives rather than face it another day. And yes, there are many people struggling with mental disorders that we would rather ignore than help.

Do you think this is want God wills? Do you believe this is what God wants for His people? Is this what it means to be a church, to be a people of faith? Have we become more concerned with the instruments we use in worship or church budgets or committee meetings? Where do you believe God’s heart truly lies? As a pastor, a father, a husband, and as a friend, I am here before you and I am tired. I am frustrated. I am concerned. I am struggling. But, I am hopeful.

It is time to quit pretending that we have all the time in the world. The time to act is now. It is time to love more and stronger. It is time to work to come together in mutual encouragement and support rather than focusing on that which divides us. It’s time to understand that saying “I’m sorry” is more powerful than saying “I’m right!” It’s time to quit turning a blind eye and to look at what is happening all around us. It’s time to get involved and make a difference. It’s time set aside our convenience and help one another. It’s time for young and old alike to focus on being the people God asks us to be; to be God’s hands and feet in this broken world. It is time for the church to once again be known for what it is for rather than what it is against.

It is fairly common during this 3rd Sunday of Advent for churches to have a “Blue Christmas” service. This is a service that acknowledges that there is often sorrow in the midst of the supposed most joyous time of the year, especially as memories of loved ones come flooding into our minds and the stress of the Christmas expectations come close to overwhelming us. Sometimes it is referred to a “Longest Night” service. This is because Dec. 21 is the day of the year with the least amount of daylight, thereby making it the “darkest” day of the year. Do you see the symmetry of the longest night, the most darkness, occurring just before Christmas? Christmas, when we celebrate the Light coming into the world. Christmas, when we anticipate Christ our light returning once again. Today, it feels as if the darkness has overtaken the light, but the light breaks through the darkness. You, people of God, you who dare to take the name Christian, you are to be bearers of Christ’s light in this world.

I began by telling you that my message this weekend was about how Christmas serves as an invitation to be more like children. In Matthew, Jesus tells us that we must become like children to enter the kingdom of heaven. In the beginning of John we are told that Christ came and gave us the power to become children of God. Be like children? Perhaps it’s because children have yet to learn to hate. Children have yet to become so jaded that they focus on our differences and the things divide us. Instead, there is an eagerness to learn, an eagerness to love. Children don’t have to have everything figured out. Children know how to laugh and enjoy life. Children have a faith that has yet to be tainted by our adult cynicism. Children look beyond the practical. Children aren’t afraid to dream.

Right now we mourn the loss of 20 dreamers. Again, the time is now. It is time to say “I’m sorry.” It is time to say “I love you.” It is time appreciate each day more fully. It is time to get involved and help others. It is time to get clear about what is really important in life. It is time to come together. It is time to be a church that is concerned with transforming lives, ALL lives, in the name of Jesus Christ. It is time to PRACTICE this faith we talk about.

I want to share with you this prayer from Max Lucado written in response to the tragic shooting:

Dear Jesus,
It's a good thing you were born at night. This world sure seems dark. I have a good eye for silver linings. But they seem dimmer lately.

These killings, Lord. These children, Lord. Innocence violated. Raw evil demonstrated.
The whole world seems on edge. Trigger-happy. Ticked off. We hear threats of chemical weapons and nuclear bombs. Are we one button-push away from annihilation?

Your world seems a bit darker this Christmas. But you were born in the dark, right? You came at night. The shepherds were nightshift workers. The Wise Men followed a star. Your first cries were heard in the shadows. To see your face, Mary and Joseph needed a candle flame. It was dark. Dark with Herod's jealousy. Dark with Roman oppression. Dark with poverty. Dark with violence.
Herod went on a rampage, killing babies. Joseph took you and your mom into Egypt. You were an immigrant before you were a Nazarene.

Oh, Lord Jesus, you entered the dark world of your day. Won't you enter ours? We are weary of bloodshed. We, like the wise men, are looking for a star. We, like the shepherds, are kneeling at a manger.

This Christmas, we ask you, heal us, help us, be born anew in us.

Hopefully,
Your Children


In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, 13 who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.

14 And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.
Amen