Sermon: "Emerging Joy"
The birth of Jesus took place during a time of lost hope. A time when the empire ruled with domination and intimidation. Roman soldiers roamed the streets, enforcing the authoritarian regime’s ruthless power and control over the people.
Roman economic policy kept the vast majority of people stuck in poverty. The wealth they worked for was taken from them, and redistributed to the wealthy through burdensome, unfair taxes and an economic system that made upward mobility impossible.
Unable to bear the burden, small landowners had to take out loans... The loans could not be repaid, and their land was eventually taken from them.
The future was bleak.
***** The state of things was like when Scar ruled over the Pridelands: lush grasslands and forests turned into barren wastelands. Or when Te Kā’s anger and wrath threatened to devour Moana’s island of Motunui, causing the crops to die and the lush, green vegetation to disappear.
The land becomes a dry, lifeless desert.
That’s what it felt like in people’s souls. There was no life. No hope. No joy.
There are many today living in that same desert; the desert of despair; the desert of diminishing hope.
As economic opportunities decrease; as health care costs rise; as the tax burden shifts to those who can least afford it; as employment and housing get harder to find…
As division pulls us further apart; as family and friends find it harder to engage in meaningful conversation, due to the different opinions they hold; when people are so quick to insult and ridicule and blame, instead of working together to find solutions…
As innocent people are abducted, beaten, and imprisoned by masked, armed men working for the government; as rights and dignity are denied to queer folk; as political boundaries are redrawn in a clear attempt to exclude people from having a voice…
Hope is diminishing. The wilderness is growing. Joy is harder to hold on to.
Personal experiences and situations also make joy hard to come by. Losing your job. Dealing with mental illness. Getting your name in the paper because of a mistake you made. Struggling with addiction. Going through a divorce. Raising a child with a chronic health condition for which there is no cure and little understanding. Not having anyone with whom you can share deeply, honestly.
The weight of so many things is bearing down on us, and pushing us out into the desert.
Ancient people, in the time of the prophets, and in the years leading up to the birth of Jesus, experienced all this.
How they longed for the year of the Lord;
the jubilee year talked about by the ancient prophets;
the year when debts would be forgiven, when land would be returned to its original owners, and hope would be restored;
the year when the poor would receive good news;
the year when those who were held captive would be released, and all could live in freedom and wholeness.
The year that Mary sang about when she realized she would soon give birth to the messiah, the one who (she said) would bring down the powerful from their thrones and lift up the lowly; who would fill the hungry with good food, and send the rich away empty-handed.
How the people longed for this promised Messiah, who would usher in this new age, and restore all things to their rightful state; the one who would bring joy back to the people.
How we long for this new age, the day when Christ’s kingdom of shalom comes on earth as it is in heaven; the day when God’s beloved community comes alive in the hearts and minds of all the people of our nation and our world.
It’s so easy to think that this story of Jesus’ birth, and the significance of it all, is just a story. After all, our world is still a mess. Sometimes it seems that things get a little bit better, start moving in the right direction, but then things turn back around, and start heading back in the wrong direction.
And we’re no closer to the hope, peace, joy and love of Christ.
That’s what it feels like, to me, sometimes, when the weight of everything presses down.
***** But then I am reminded that Christ’s love is real and present in our world today, that God’s mercy and grace are real and present in our world today, and real and present in my life.
And all around me, I see (if I look for it) joy emerging. It may not be fully present and out in the open, but the seed is there. Maybe a small seed, like a mustard seed. But it is there.
Even the desert blooms when the rains fall. I’ve seen the deserts of southern California come alive with color after a good rain. The flower seeds lie dormant in the dusty ground until the rain falls, then they all bloom at once.
In some places, it’s hills that stretch out for miles with a golden carpet of poppies.
In other places, flowers of many colors rise up from the sandy soil.
The seeds were always there, yet their true beauty could not be seen until the rains came, opened them up, and allowed the growth that brought forth such beauty.
Sometimes, the wait for enough rain takes years, but the seeds are there, lying dormant, and then when the rain comes, a “superblooom” appears, and the beauty is overwhelming.
In the same way, the seeds of joy are all around us. It could be that they just need some lifegiving water to open them up.
And maybe we can be the ones who water those seeds of joy.
We can water the seeds of joy with the attention we give to all that is good and hopeful in our world.
We can water the seeds of joy by hearing and sharing the stories of Christmas with those we love.
We can water the seeds of joy by acting with kindness and compassion to those around us.
We can water the seeds of joy by showing solidarity with those who are struggling, those who are vulnerable, those whose rights and dignity are threatened; letting them know that they are not alone.
We can water the seeds of joy by connecting with others, reaching out with a phone call, a visit, a smile….
I often say that your presence here is a blessing to me and to those around you. In fact, there could be someone here for whom your smile, your greeting, your presence, is a great blessing, something that gives them hope.
I have learned over the years that simply showing up is often the greatest gift you can give someone, and the greatest sign of hope and love. You don’t have to say anything. You don’t have to do anything. You simply have to show up. Be present. Be kind.
Doing that can water the seeds of joy, and allow beauty to burst forth…
**** As my family settles into our new home, we’ve found that there are a few things we need to buy, and one day I was in Ross, and as I walked in, the person at the cash register called out, “Good morning! Welcome to Ross!” And it was the strangest thing, but she sounded so sincere, that that simple greeting was enough to lift my spirits. She had seen me, she noticed me, she affirmed my presence, and made me feel welcome.
After I found what I came for, I went to pay for it, and I told her how pleasant it was that she offered such a nice greeting—and not just me, but everyone who came in. She said, “Yeah, I just like to try and make everyone feel a little better.”
That is a sign of emerging joy. A flower blossoming in the desert.
Joy doesn’t mean being magically transported out of the desolate wilderness. Joy is knowing that, even in the desert, there is beauty.
Joy doesn’t mean everything in your life is perfect. Joy is having people journey with you, through the good and the bad and everything in between.
Joy doesn’t mean that all the wrongs of the world are made right. Joy is knowing that God’s vision of a world that is good and just is always a possibility, always something we can move closer to, always something that we ourselves can, through the way we live, bring a little closer.
Joy doesn’t mean that there are no struggles, no challenges, no sorrowful tragedies or circumstances in your life. But joy is having a church that stands with you through it all, surrounding you with the love of Christ; a church that is willing to both rejoice with you and grieve with you
And joy is knowing that, as imperfect as this world is, it still seemed right to God to come into this world, to become one of us, and to share with us all that we experience, through Jesus Christ… Emmanuel… a name that means “God with us.”
And because of this, we know that we are not alone, and we know that we are loved.
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