A Prayer for Christmas Eve

O Holy One whose face we have long waited to see, on the eve of Christmas we gather here in the peaceful quiet with grateful hearts.  We come here to withdraw from the commotion of this season and to draw near to you, basking in the delight of your fulfilled promise that you have drawn near to us. 

On the Eve of Christmas we pray that you may grant to us the faith of Mary, granting within us the trust that You can and will do something amazing within us and through us.  May we, by your grace, accept the call that has been given to each of us to be Godbearers.

On the Eve of Christmas we pray that you might give us the courage of Joseph, bestowing upon us the willingness to embrace the uncertainty that comes when You are among us, dreaming up a new dream for us.  Help us to have the audacity to believe that to whatever You are calling us is far better than anything we can imagine on our own.

On the Eve of Christmas we pray that you may give us the joy of the Shepherds.  May we each have the trust to leave behind our burdens so that we may seek out your face.  May we each leave your manger with gladness in our hearts; praising you and basking in the Divine Truth that we are no longer alone in this life, and that You are with us.  May we sing of your glory as we consider your wonderful works.

On the Eve of Christmas we pray that Love may be reborn into our hearts and into the hearts of all your people.  May we, empowered by the Love you have shown us through Christmas, journey together remembering that above all else, we are called to love you and to love each other.

We pray these things tonight in the name of Emmanuel.

Amen. 

When Love Snuggles Up: What my dog teaches me about Christmas

In addition to our two human children, Debra and I share our house with a dog.  Our dog is a big red dog (obligatory Clifford reference, RIP Norman Bridwell!) named Amos.  He is awkward, he is somewhat annoying, and he eats like there is no tomorrow. In the 5 years he has been a part of our life, Deb and I have determined that Amos has two main priorities: His number one priority? Food.  If his bowl isn't perpetually filled, he will whine and paw to the point where we either have to fill it, or pick it up (we will admit to doing more of the former rather than the latter, which probably explains why Amos is a touch on the heavy side). Number two on his list is the need of the constant, focused attention of one of the humans in the house (usually, it seems, me).

When Amos wants attention, there is no mistaking what it is he desires, and there is no denying him.  He will very purposefully walk over to you, and sit down in such a way that his nose is no more than six inches or so from yours.  He will then look at you like this....

Are you paying attention?

He will then sit there and stare at you until you of course, start petting him. But woe to the one who stops petting him before he is finished with you. If you dare attempt to move on to something else, he will promptly repeat the entire procedure, as many times as necessary until he is convinced, once again, that he is in fact loved by the humans in his house.

The other morning I was running late to get out the door on my way to church.  It's been a busy week this week, it's almost like there is a MAJOR Holy Day coming up or something, and I was distracted by the rather extensive to-do list awaiting me.  I sat down to put my shoes on, and here comes Amos, he lumbers over in such a way that makes the floor shake and then assumes the position.  It seems that he always picks the most inconvenient times to demand my attention.  But it's like he knew...it's like he knew that my brain was in different places, and he knew that he would have to try a different tactic.  So as I'm sitting there, trying to lace-up my shoes with this very serious face not a foot a way from mine, as I'm trying to get on with the busyness of my day, Amos very gently lays his head on my legs and looked up at me with a face that said only one thing: "I just want to know I matter...."

What can you do in a situation like that, except love on your dog?  And, you  know, it was a good experience. I was thankful for that opportunity because  it feels good when love snuggles up, doesn't it?  It feels good whether it's our pets, our children, our parents, our friends, or our significant others.  It feels good when the feeling of love becomes tangibly present and we have a reminder to come out of our own little bubbles and be reminded of the bigger picture, and of what really matters.   When love snuggles up, for just a moment, nothing else really matters, everything else seems to fade away, and you find yourself lost in the present moment.

As we journey together into the busyness of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, we can all find ourselves being drawn into our own little bubbles.  We are all trying to check off our to-do lists and ensure that everything is just "perfect."  Of course, this is nothing new, it's been like this for, it seems, forever. We humans have this determination within us to continue doing the things we think are right, without hesitation, question, or consideration of motives or purpose. Even when it comes to holy causes, we continue to try to create the experiences in our image, and our likeness, giving only second thought to the One who is the great Creator, and the One who invites us to share in the Holiness.

When Amos laid his head down on my leg, showing me in his own way that he loved me and wanted to be loved by me, I could not help but think of a night 2000+ years ago in a town called Bethlehem  when the God of Love decided to creep into our world and into our lives and snuggle up beside us. I cannot help but think that God of all Creation shared the same desire as my dog; the desire to show us how much we are loved, and how much God wanted to be loved by us.

Sometimes Love knows no other way to get our attention besides squirming and wedging its way into the forefront of our consciousness, demanding our attention, and compelling us to consider how we will respond.

Just as I am thankful to have not passed up the opportunity to share in a moment of love with my dog, I am thankful that we all have the opportunity to share in a similar moment with one another and with the One who is the complete personification of Love on Christmas Eve. I am glad to have the moments of sacredness that Christmas provides to be thankful for the love that is present in my life and the Love that connects each and every one of us together.

Merry Christmas

On Children, Communion, and an "Open Table"

A few months ago, my family was on vacation in Kansas City, MO and on Sunday morning we visited a congregation that we sometimes worship with when we are not with our home churches.  This congregation is a small group of Disciples who do a wonderful job in making all who enter into the worship space feel welcomed and like a critical element of the community.  When it came time for communion, my wife and I were a tad uncertain about how our then- 2 year old would handle going up front to partake in the elements.  Expecting a touch of chaos, we got in the back of the line so that no one would be waiting on us.   When it came time for our son to tear of the bread and dip it into the cup he did so joyfully and eagerly.  After eating the Bread he turned to my wife and I and proclaimed loudly, “I want more!”   This was a holy moment for our family, and I was thankful to this congregation for welcoming our son into that time of sacredness.   Thankfully, there are many of our congregations in the DoC that share in a similar practice of inclusivity, however, I know that this is not universal, and I know that there is still some question about when (and how) our children can share in the Table.

 This is a sensitive issue for some within our Denominational family, and I really have never fully understood why.  I’ve never really understood the tension between proclaiming an “open table” and then setting up a stipulation that essentially says, “The Table will be open to you, once you meet a certain set of criteria.” I believe this also sends a conflicting and possibly damaging message to our young people as they continue to try to find their place within the wholeness of Congregational life. 

The most common justification I have heard from folks who are entrenched into the camp that says children must wait until a certain age or until they are baptized, is that until they reach that milestone, don’t “get it.”  Now I don’t know about anyone else, but I’ve been a member of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) my entire life, and I’ve been in ministry for ten years, and I still don’t “get” what happens at the Lord’s Table.  I don’t fully understand what it means to share in the fullness of community and grace.  I don’t fully grasp what it means to be loved even to the point of death.  All I know is that I need community, grace, and love and I find all of those things at the Communion table.  And that every time I experience a time of communion, I want more.

Just as I need community, grace, and love I know that our children need to feel these same things and I know that as we continue to attempt to integrate our children into the fullness of worship, they will hear their ministers talking about these things and how Christ offers them to all people. How confusing it must be for them to be told that Christ welcomes all, but then have the communion plate passed over them or to be told to stay in their seats as their parents and older siblings make the journey to the front of the sanctuary. 

As a father, I will never deny my boys the opportunity to share in the meal of Love, and I pray for the day when all our congregations do likewise for all of our children.  

Good News? Great Joy

On Wednesday, December 17, FCC-Midwest City hosted it's annual "Service of Remembrance" for those in our community who's spirits perhaps aren't the brightest this Christmas time.  I was blessed to have the opportunity to bring the message.  I thought I'd share it with the world....

Good News? Great Joy?

Luke 2: 1-11

December 17, 2014

It would have been a lonely night.  Of course, every night is lonely for a shepherd….why would that night have been any different? It would have been cold, too.  Nights get cold on the desert. It would have been dark. 

Lonely.  Cold.  Dark.  Not exactly the scene we think of when we imagine Christmas, is it? Certainly this is a different image than the one that was painted last Sunday night by our children. We’d like to imagine a different picture at Christmastime.  We like to picture Christmas as a time of lights, action, and festive moods.  We hear songs on the radio about friends and family coming from near and far, gathering together to pass pumpkin pie and coffee while singing songs around the old piano.  This is what Christmas should be, right? If we don’t at least attempt to create this picture, if we’re not continuously basking in “the most wonderful time of the year,” we risk being labeled a “Scrooge.”  And who wants to be a Scrooge?

There’s just one small snag, however.  As I read the story of Christmas, more specifically, Luke’s account of the birth of Jesus, I don’t find a big, festive party.  Now, don’t mis-understand what I’m saying, I’m all for partying it up at Christmastime…I mean, I’m the guy who has had Christmas music on in the office since before Thanksgiving.  There is certainly nothing wrong (and there are so many things right) about hanging the lights on the house, passing around the eggnog, and braving the lines at the malls….all I’m suggesting is that there perhaps is another layer to the Christmas story….one that goes beyond the lights, glitz, and glamour of the festive season, and dives into the heart of the everyday reality of life. 

And this is good news for us, because what brings us here to worship here tonight is the realization and understanding that in some way the reality of life has crept in and made a home in the midst of the festive wonder of Christmas.  This can be scary, unsettling experience and realization.  We can wake up one day and realize that like Charlie Brown in “Charlie Brown’s Christmas,” we notice that everyone else is having fun; we recognize that we are supposed to join in those festivities…but for some reason, we just cannot.  This tension can create a lonely feeling that we cannot explain, but from which we cannot shake free.

Thankfully, the Church is now doing a far better job recognizing and acknowledging this reality.  Many different congregations are holding a time of worship like this.  This time gets called by many different names.  Some places call it, “The Longest Night,” others call it “Blue Christmas,” we call it the “Service of Remembrance,” but no matter by what name these sacred moments of worship are called, we know that at the heart of it all, this is a time where we can come and join with friends and family who are kindred spirits and companions on this journey, and we can look around this beautiful sanctuary and give thanks that we are NOT alone. 

We are not alone because of the companions we have beside us tonight, we are not alone because we worship and serve a God who promises to never leave us by ourselves, and we are not alone because as we enter the Christmas story in a new way, we recognize that the stories of those whom the Gospel authors tell us mirror our own stories in so many sacred ways. 

Take, for instance, the Shepherds.  While they are characters that get included in every single rendition of the Christmas story, we don’t often give the shepherds a whole lot of consideration.  But tonight, perhaps we can make a connection between us and them.  Perhaps we can picture them sitting there in the cold, lonely, darkness and we can insert ourselves into their place and them into ours.  Perhaps we think about our own experiences with the darkness…own own moving through our daily routines…just trying to get through the day in one piece.  Perhaps we, like the shepherds, don’t feel like we get a whole lot of consideration….perhaps we, like they, don’t feel like we’re fully understood. 

I mean, it’s hard to understand a shepherd….one who spends his days and night shouldering someone else’s burdens.  It’s hard to connect with one who spends all of their time away from any family or friends, and outside of the hustle and bustle of the city.  And it can be hard sometimes for our friends, neighbors, and family to fully understand us, as people whose festive lights perhaps aren’t exactly shining the brightest.  It’s hard to fully understand and empathize with one who has recently lost a parent or spouse…it’s hard to understand one whose children have recently moved to a new state and who is grieving that newfound separation….it’s hard to understand one who has family members deployed overseas and the worry and stress that causes for the one who stays behind….it’s hard to understand one who struggles with depression, and anxiety, and who can’t fully explain why they feel and think the things they do. It’s hard to understand one who has recently experienced job loss, yet still feels the pressure to create a “good” Christmas for their family.  This can create a new difficult reality, one that we can share with the shepherds, because at the end of the day, I think all that any of us want is to be understood.

The Good News, though, is that our God is a God who understands.  Just as God understood the shepherds, God understands you and me.  We remember that it is to the shepherds that the Angel first broke into that lonely darkness with the news that Emmanuel had been born.  It was the shepherds who heard, “Good News of Great Joy” that they would never again be made to feel alone, because God was with them, and from that moment forward, they would have a companion for their life’s journey. 

And in the same way, we, tonight, hear “Good News of Great Joy” that God is present with us…even in the midst of our uncertainties, our insecurities, our loneliness…God is there….and God is seeking to break into our loneliness and confusion with a proclamation that Emmanuel is with us. And so as we move ever closer to the stable of Bethlehem, let us do so with confidence trusting that no matter the condition of our own spirits, the Spirit of the Living God rests upon us and that Love dwells among us. 

Amen