Advent, One Foot in Front of the Other Preached on December 1st, 2019 At Wollaston Congregational Church Scripture: Isaiah 2:1-5 This morning, as we step into the season of Advent, we are called by Isaiah to go up to the mountain of the Lord, to come walk in the light of the Lord. And so as we begin the season we begin a journey. And this is no ordinary journey, rather it is a pilgrimage. A pilgrimage is a journey, often into an unknown or foreign place, where a person goes in search of new or expanded meaning. That is to say, a person who completes a pilgrimage ends in a different place from the place they began. This is sometimes a different physical place and always a different spiritual place. At the beginning we may not think we are ready to go to a new and different place. We may not feel willing to be changed by the experience of Advent. And yet today, we are simply invited to begin. To put one foot in front of the other. This morning we heard Psalm 122 which is a psalm of ascents, a pilgrimage psalm. The psalmist proclaims: “I was glad when they said to me, ‘Let us go to the house of the LORD!’” It is another invitation to begin a journey. Going to the Jerusalem temple always meant “going up” for ancient pilgrims. The psalms of ascent are thought to have been sung as travelers climbed the road to Jerusalem for one of the three Jewish pilgrim festivals. The reading we heard this morning, from Isaiah, is a prophecy made during a difficult times for Judah. The northern kingdom of Israel and the Aramaean kingdom of Damascus have tried to force Judah into an unwise alliance in opposition to the Assyrian Empire. When the foes lay siege to Jerusalem, King Ahaz turns to the prophet for advice and assurance. Isaiah’s reassurance is that, no matter the current circumstances, the day will come when God will reign on Mount Zion for all to see. This will occur when all nations, all tribes, all peoples are drawn to journey to that place. Isaiah reassures us that God’s ultimate purpose is to bring salvation and peace to all nations. This is what Christians anticipate at Advent in the coming of the Christ child. We remember the proclamation of the angels “peace on earth, good will to all people.” El Camino de Santiago in Northern Spain is pilgrimage route that was popular in the 10th, 11th and 12th centuries. The route has become popular again in recent times. El Camino de Santiago, “The Way of Saint James”, leads to the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela. According to legend, the remains of the apostle, James, reside inside the Cathedral. Walking the route will take about four weeks. Pilgrims will find times of solitude as well as times spent walking and talking with many other pilgrims from around the world. They may stay in pilgrimage hostels and religious communities as they step back into a time-honored tradition. They take their time, there is no way to do the pilgrimage quickly. They experience changes in weather – wet, hot and cold – and learn to accept what comes. And over the course of the walk they can reflect on their lives, gaining perspective on themselves and their relationships with others and with God. When pilgrims arrival at the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela they are invited to attend a Pilgrim Mass, which occurs twice per day. Pilgrims from many nations, traditions and languages experience this multi-sensory mass. The huge censer is swung by six robed men, wafting incense throughout the towering cathedral. Light streams through stained glass windows and is reflected from golden statues; chants and anthems are sung and organ music resounds. It’s a fitting end to simplicity of the lengthy, life-changing hike.[1] I have never made a pilgrimage like El Camino, but I have learned to make small pilgrimages of my own. Like the one I made during Advent some years ago. The month of December had become much too busy for me. I barely took the time to breathe, never mind reflect on the season and enjoy the anticipation of the coming of Jesus. I had recently joined my church’s Mission Committee and we were planning a “Missions Fair.” We would sell products from and for the benefit of various mission-related organizations. The committee decided to take about a dozen teddy bears to be sold to benefit a men’s homeless shelter in Salem. And so I volunteered to go to Salem to pick up the bears. At that time I rarely went anywhere without our three little children in tow. A friend offered to take our youngest, Chloe, for a play date after half-day preschool so that I could make the pilgrimage around route 128. It was a sunny December day and, at mid-day, the men’s shelter was quiet. Some residents were napping, and volunteers staffed the desk. I was only there for a few minutes, but in that time I took in the unassuming hospitality of the place. It was an Advent kind of place, far from the glitz of the mall and the impatience of the highways. It smelled of bodies, instead of the intense perfumes of seasonal candles. I picked up the teddy bears and brought them to my car. Then I had about 45 minutes to spare and I walked around the Salem neighborhoods. I could see how forgotten people might get lost there. And yet it was also a place to be found. I took my time in the thin sunlight. I needed the moments of solitude. I needed to be reminded of who God is and what God does in this season of waiting. In Isaiah’s vision, the people who have journeyed to the mountain learn new things about who God is and what God does. When the peoples are gathered from all nations on that sacred mountain, God judges. The judgment of God may sound terrifying, but in this case it is more of a sorting out of problems, an arbitration. The result of this judgment is peace. The peace of the Hebrew Bible, Shalom, is not merely the absence of fighting and war. It is a deep peace between peoples and between humanity and God. The invitation to Shalom is irresistible. The nations beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks. The tools of war are no longer needed, they become the tools for cultivation. Shalom means a great community in which all the people are fed. This is the peace for which the city is name, Jeru-Shalom. It means all inclusive wellbeing. Shane Claiborne is a Christian leader, speaker, and author. He has worked with Mother Teresa in Calcutta, and is the founder of a neighborhood-based community called “The Simple Way” in Philadelphia. Claiborne has recently written a book with co-author Michael Martin called “Beating Guns: Hope for People who are Weary of Violence.” Martin is a former Mennonite youth pastor who has retrained as a blacksmith. Their book tour was a 37-city pilgrimage in a decommissioned school bus. [2] While on their journey, Claiborne and Martin ran a unique kind of gun buy-back program. They held vigils in places that have experienced mass shootings or drug-related violence. Local people were invited to bring their guns to be melted down in a mobile forge. These weapons were refashioned into gardening tools and objects of art. The LA Times published a column entitled “Evangelical activist Shane Claiborne wants to beat our guns into plowshares — really.” Claiborne says “There’s folks that say we don’t have a gun problem, we have a heart problem. We realize we’ve got both a gun problem and a heart problem. God heals hearts and people change laws and we need to think of it as both of those.” Talking about the meltdown vigils he says, "In one hour, we go from a piece of metal that was designed to kill to a piece of metal that was designed to cultivate life.” [3] Perhaps you noticed that Shane Claiborne is described by the LA Times as an evangelical activist. He is the leader of a movement called the “Red Letter Christians.” Members of the movement say they are committed to living "as if Jesus meant the things he said." [4] If I’m to be honest, I have to say “I’m not there yet.” The gun meltdown sounds amazing. But will it really change enough hearts and minds to bring peace to our cities and neighborhoods? Will laying down our weapons, whatever they are, leave us too vulnerable? Not all of us own guns, of course. But we have other means of defense and protection. We stick with our own neighborhoods, and with our own kind of people that we think of as being “safe.” We shop in familiar places, talk with familiar people. We carefully avoid anything that looks out of the ordinary and feels uncomfortable. Are we ready to step out of those zones of comfort and safety? Are we ready to make journeys with people who look different from us, who are from different places, different faiths, who speak different languages? I’d say, for most of us, probably not. We’re simply “not there yet.” Advent means “coming.” And so this month we anticipate the coming of Jesus. And we can look forward with hope, to the coming of peace, Shalom. Indeed, Christ is coming. And yet, we are also going. We are going on the journey, the pilgrimage. If we are “not there yet” it is OK. Perhaps that is the whole point of the pilgrimage journey: that we are not there yet. Today all we need to do is to put one foot in front of the other. And so here is the invitation, “Come, let us walk in the light of the Lord!” Amen [1] https://caminoways.com/pilgrims-mass-santiago-de-compostela [2] https://www.newyorker.com/news/on-religion/god-guns-and-country-the-evangelical-fight-over-firearms [3] https://wjactv.com/news/local/beating-guns-tour-stops-in-state-college-they-turned-guns-into-garden-tools [4] http://www.shaneclaiborne.com/new-page/
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
If you enjoy a sermon or have a question, please leave a comment. If you would like to quote any of my material in your own sermons or writings, please use appropriate attribution. I look forward to hearing from you!Archives
April 2022
Categories |