The Rev’d Richard Dunagin tells the story of a Russian Rabbi who was walking down a country road. Not paying attention to where he was going he stumbled onto a military installation. As he approached the fence the infantryman on guard duty yelled out: “Who are you and what are you doing here?” The startled rabbi shielded his eyes from the bright flashlight and said nothing. Again the guard yelled out demandingly: “Who are you and what are you doing here?” The rabbi then yelled back “How much do they pay you?” Now it was the guards turn to be startled. He looked out and said with less volume: “Why do you ask?” And the rabbi responded “Because I need someone to ask me those two questions every day! Who are you? Why are you here?”
Who are you and why are you here? Some of you I know well, some of you I know a little, some of you I have never met, perhaps you are here for the first time. Regardless of how well I know you – I know that each one of you comes here tonight with a whole suitcase full of experiences – some good some bad. Each one of us comes here with expectation of what Christmas is all about and how it is to be celebrated. Each one of us comes with dreams that have failed and dreams that have been fulfilled in amazing and wonderful ways. Each of us has come because somewhere in the very heart of our soul we sense that God has done something wonderful in the world and that event needs to be celebrated and shared.
The author of our epistle begins…“For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all.” Wow what an intro. Our reading from Titus immediately calls up images of angelic announcements to shepherds, stars gleaming in the Middle Eastern night, and the innocence of a babe born in a manger. But then comes the kicker… this grace of God that has appeared is training us to renounce impiety and worldly passions and in the present age live lives that are self-controlled, upright, and godly. I may feel pretty good about the upright part, but when I think about going to share Christmas dinner tomorrow that self-controlled part catches me up.
I spent quite a bit of time this week preparing to write a sermon on this wonderfully familiar gospel reading without a lot of success. So I dropped back and gave some thought to that challenge that we have been using in the Thursday evening Eucharist after listening to the lessons. Remember the question? After hearing the lessons we challenge each other with this: “If this is the word of God and it is meant to change our lives, how will my life be changed in the next few days having heard it?” The angels said to the shepherds “fear not for unto you is born this day in Bethlehem a savior who is the Messiah”, the anointed one, the one who is to come, the one who will heal the lame and open the eyes of the blind. How will your life, my life be changed tomorrow having heard this news? Titus reminds us that the response we are called to make - to live lives that are self-controlled, upright, and godly is inherent in the Christian understanding of the gift of the grace of God in a stable in Bethlehem.
Khaled Housseini’s best-seller the Kite Runner , story of Amir who as a young boy, in a moment of fear betrays his best friend, Hassan, who is brutally attacked by ruffians. The result of the attack is devastating to both boys. Hassan’s life is plagued by tragedy and suffering and Amir’s by guilt and self-doubt. Hassan and his wife are murdered by the - soon to be- Taliban leaving behind an orphan son and Amir goes and a harrowing journey to escape Afghanistan and move to the US. Life is not easy for him here, but eventually he comes to know and live the American dream. And then he receives a letter from an old family friend. The note says simply “There is a way to be good again” Amir returns to Afghanistan and rescues the boy.
That note “there is a way to be good again” pulls on our emotions. That emotion comes out of the very human need to be loved and cherished. Insecurities, anxieties, our feelings of inadequacy come to each one of us at some point – sometimes overwhelming and sometimes in passing – but we all - at some very basic level - yearn to be different, better than we are. Our culture of quick fixes, anesthetizing addictions, and materialism tells us that there is not hope to be different than we are no hope of finding a “way to be good again”. In churchy language our culture tells us that there is no hope of redemption.
Recently I have found myself in conversations with people who for one reason or another have come to the bottom of the well. - A professional person whose addiction to alcohol lost him his job, another whose family had given up hope of his finding relief from pull of drugs and alcohol. One found himself facing the destruction of his marriage because of his insatiable desire for crudely inappropriate internet sites and the ready availability of them. He told me of a church where the members of the congregation and the pastor talk openly about this debilitating addiction. He found hope for new life in the companionship of others who struggle themselves with what the author of our epistle calls impiety and worldly passions. Maybe we in this prim and proper Episcopal Church should talk a little more about the seemier side of life and how we deal with it.
Now I am not here to preach a sermon on temperance, but I am certain that many of us who are here tonight come with a deep, deep yearning to hear in this message of Christmas, that there is a way to be good again. There is a way to be whole again. There is a way to put aside the burden of missed opportunities and failed promises. Tonight we hear a wonderful message – that we have come to the right place. All the pain and sorrow as well as the hope and joy that we bring belongs right here because this night we hear again the message of God’s action, God’s presence here tonight and in the days to come.
Luke’s gospel account traces Jesus’ journey from Bethlehem to Jerusalem and this message that the angel’s proclaim Glory to God in the highest is heard at both ends of that journey – first in the fields where the poorest of the poor are keeping their sheep and again at the final entry of Jesus into Jerusalem on his journey to the cross. It is no accident that in the darkest of places and the darkest of times that God’s message of redemption is heard most clearly.
There is hope to be proclaimed tonight for each one of us who carries the burdens of life. Not an up by the bootstraps hope, but a hope in the fact that on this night God has entered into our lives and become one with us. We incorporate this hope into our lives when we name the tragedy that holds us back and by giving into the call to “be good again”. It is no short term undertaking, it is not a one night resolution. Living into the hope of redemption through the birth, life, death, and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ is a life long undertaking. But it can begin tonight.
Story of rabbi and reference to Kite Runner were taken from Feasting on the Word - preaching helps Bartlett and Taylor editors.
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