Advent waiting …not even a day.

Advent began yesterday—the First Sunday of Advent marking the beginning of the annual countdown to Christmas and the celebration of the birth of Jesus. 

I was blessed to have friend and colleague, Rev. Nancy Benson-Nicol preaching for me.  Nancy is the Associate Director, Theological Education Funds Development & Director, Seminary Support Network (you can find out more about the Theological Education Fund here: www.presbyterianfoundation.org/tef.)  Nancy and I have worked together for several years now, in support of our denomination’s Theological Education Fund which supports our Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) seminaries.  As a part of that work, I get a lot of news from our seminaries. 

This morning’s news was that McCormick Seminary in Chicago was closed for the day in response to the FBI warning the University of Chicago that a credible threat of gun violence had been received in association with today’s date. 

My advent prayer, for as long as I can remember, has been the hope that we are drawing near to peace on earth.  “Peace” is my long-awaited Christmas present.  This year, it didn’t even last a day. 

By the evening of the second day of Advent, news arrived in my newsfeed that a man had been arrested. 

“Jabari Dean, 21, was arrested for allegedly threatening to murder University of Chicago students and staff, the U.S. Attorney’s Office for the Northern District of Illinois announced Monday. Dean, of Chicago, has been charged with transmitting a threat in interstate commerce.”  --stated in an online article by The Washington Post

I suppose a celebration is in order, that threats were made but that gunshots were not fired.  But that’s little consolation for a world still reeling from the latest mass shooting in Colorado over the Thanksgiving weekend, or where the Pope is visiting a war-torn part of Africa, or when we all recognize that another movie theater shooting or Sandy Hook is inevitable. 

In the movie, “The Hunt for Red October,” the Admiral (played by actor and former presidential candidate, Fred Thompson) offers:

“This business will get out of control.  It will get out of control and we’ll be luck to live through it.”  (You can view the scene here:  https://youtu.be/0-JA1ffd5Ms)

One day of Advent.  ONE DAY!  

And yet the cries for justice and righteousness, the cries of, “how long, O Lord,” and the promises of the Antiphons ache and groan among us! 

One day of Advent and the end seems lost, never to be found or heard from—the end of peace, not the beginning. 

One day of Advent and I’m pressing God, demanding God, looking for God to speed up the calendar.  Your Kingdom come, and right darn quick.  “Peace.  Give me peace when there is no peace.”  One day of Advent and my patience is already fried. 

But now, it’s just about been two days of Advent.  Two days of waiting.  Two days of aching for some of the people who ache and hurt, who live a lot closer to harm’s way than I do, apparently.  Two days, waiting, hoping, and praying for peace.  Two days.  Tomorrow, it will be three. 

I’d like to be afraid. 

Afraid of the guns. 

Afraid of the violence. 

Afraid of those who like or choose violence. 

Afraid for those who are in harm’s way; afraid I or those I love might end up in harm’s way. 

The truth is that I don’t have time …to be afraid.  The truth is …I choose to believe God’s got this. 

It’s just hard—waiting. 

Three days of advent.  And counting. 

© Rev. David Stipp-Bethune; Teaching Elder and Pastor, The Presbyterian Church of Llanerch, Havertown, Pennsylvania

The Ironic Tale of a Beloved Baby Jesus

 Six years ago I was “shopping in Bethlehem.”  Our group was told, “It was a chance to bring some commerce to the Palestinian side,” (yes, there are ‘sides’ with real people of both of them) but nearing the end of my pilgrimage it was also a place to start reflecting on things I wanted to remember about my trip.  One of the things I wanted to remember was the plight of peace that I now saw hidden in these beautiful reminders of the place of Jesus’ birth.  Contrary to how we often read the story, the place of Jesus’ birth was then and remains today a place frothy with all kinds of un-welcome-ness. 

We paper over this version of the story, choosing to tell the plight of Mary and Joseph as just and righteous, despite how we judge the people in our own time who look like them—the pregnant, unmarried teenage girls and the teenage boys who had sex with them. 

We paper over this version of the story, when we refuse to also tell the plight of the young family as they flee Bethlehem because the world powers of domination try to kill Jesus. 

With the brush of the word “virgin” and some sense of innocence or “virginal” we can easily push our way past all the difficulties our holy story presents us—even as we know deep down the world is never quite as it seems.  Unwed pregnant teenagers and refugees are good examples of it being NOT as it seems! 

So, I stood on the outskirts of Bethlehem and saw how Jesus was literally born under Herod’s nose.  It was remarkable to me in that place that Herod with all his power couldn’t find the baby Jesus and wipe him out.  I recalled, too, that it seemed many other innocent children had to pay the ultimate price for our world to receive this Jesus. 

I was face to face with the realities that the land of Jesus was also overwhelmed with the realities of fear and violence as much as or even more so than the threats against Jesus.  Herod’s walls and defensive structures, the visible signs of Roman power and might were, in fact, powerless against this one small life.  To say something like the “force” or the Holy Spirit was strong with this one—in “Star Wars irony” is an obvious “no duh” for us as Christians—drawn as we are to all the magical powers we ascribe to the nativity story. 

But… the irony.  The irony isn’t that we see beauty in the Jesus story.  The irony isn’t that we believe it with such passion.  The irony isn’t that we wrestle with its uniqueness and power.  It’s that we can so easily refuse to see what it represents. 

You can’t stand in Bethlehem today and not feel the threat of the Israeli occupation—much like I believe it was to stand in Bethlehem under Rome’s thumb.  You can’t stand in Bethlehem today and not feel the threat of violence and death. 

And, we should not be able to so easily and “virginally” read the Christmas story without acknowledging the irony of a world filled with violence and the threat of death.  And when we stand with doors locked, with borders closed; when we isolate ourselves in fear; when we wall out the world; when we refuse to accept, when we turn others away—we are decidedly NOT the hope, peace, joy, or love, of Jesus! 

Christians, in the nativity of Jesus Christ, are called to tell a story that is anti-locked-doors, anti-security-wall, anti-military-aggression, anti-death, anti-imperialism, and refugee-friendly.  And yet, in the aftermath and violence done in the name of hate, the irony is, too many Christians—in fear—have not employed these things but instead cheered air-strikes and rejection in the names of freedom and peace. 

Nothing like a little violence and death to scare the Jesus right out of ya! 

Irony.  Remember? 

I’ll be getting out my Christmas tree ornaments, soon; but I’m already holding dear that time I walked in Bethlehem and was so struck by the challenges of Jesus’ birth amidst violence and hatred, of Jesus being born under the nose of the fearful establishment, and being at risk—because that’s often how God sees the world, from the view of the underdog, the least, and the lost. 

The light shines in the darkness, yet the darkness does not overcome it! 

So, if you’re like me, in our holiday seasons you’re apt to display the iconic symbols of Jesus’ birth.  But it’s best to remember the roots of the story are light shining in the darkness.  And we aren’t just shining them against the world’s darkness, but also our own! 

And if you’re looking at the world and seeing violence and attacks and hurtfulness, and you’re feeling afraid, uncertain, and scared—you’re probably doing it right.  Because into all of that God surely sends us Jesus! 

But if you think that the way of Jesus is to get him, but then shut the door and turn out the lights and hide, trying to keep him away from others—you’re doing it wrong! 

Instead, try on these words from my colleague and Facebook friend, Shannon Vance-Ocampo: 

“If you are Christian you worship the One who started life as a refugee.  And was born in a place of safety because someone opened up a door, even if it was to a stable.
 It doesn't get any more non-negotiable than that.”  

And, if you’re looking for ways to truly get the holiday spirit, you might think of starting with some sage advice from Brené Brown: 

"The opposite of scarcity is not abundance; the opposite of scarcity is simply enough.  Empathy is not finite, and compassion is not a pizza with eight slices.  When you practice empathy and compassion with someone, there is not less of these qualities to go around.  There's more.  Love is the last thing we need to ration in this world."  

What do we have to give to a world wrought up with fear, suffering injustice, bombarded with hopelessness and loss? 

How about a little bit of Jesus.  Maybe even a beloved baby Jesus. 

But may it also be the REAL Jesus! 

© Rev. David Stipp-Bethune; Teaching Elder and Pastor, The Presbyterian Church of Llanerch, Havertown, Pennsylvania

Shop-Less Thanksgiving

Well, here we go again.  It’s the week of Halloween and it’s no longer “breaking news” that the Christmas fever was ALREADY at the Kohl’s near my house—a month ago!  [Christmas “c-rap” was already on the clearance table.] 

But over the past few weeks my Facebook feed has lit up with this overwhelming holiday cheer-less-ness over Thanksgiving Day shopping.  Lots of people are against it.  Some, so much so, to the extent that they believe stores MUST be closed as an act of preserving the integrity of the American family.  As if not shopping on Thanksgiving Day would save every family! 

Friends and colleagues are cheering stores who are announcing they will be “closed” for Thanksgiving Day and denouncing others who are advertising their intention to be “open” on Thanksgiving Day.  In both cases, a sure and certain Public Relations move rather than revealing any intention to somehow “preserve the American family.” 

Let me just say up front that I LOVE Thanksgiving; it is my favorite holiday.  I would LOVE for no one to have to work on Thanksgiving—but that’s just not possible.  In all honesty, I don’t blame the stores.  That I will likely NOT be working on Thanksgiving, that I will likely have the chance to enjoy the day with my family, is a sign of my extreme privilege.  It certainly isn’t a right guaranteed by God or any human-made institution or government. 

Actually, were I most faithful to my calling, I’d be lined up to advocate for Churches to have worship services on Thanksgiving Day so that we could truly be thankful and worshipful and thus, I’d actually have a lot more people working on Thanksgiving.  So, maybe I need to be added to the list of boycotts!  Me, God, Jesus, and the Holy Ghost! 

 

I believe in family; but it's not about this shopping bit!  

We all know the truth of the matter is that stores closing on Thanksgiving Day will not “preserve the American Family.”  In some cases, it’ll likely lead to family demise—for with nothing else to do but overeat and watch the NFL, some families will never recover!  For some families, simply being together for a day isn’t a blessing, it’s armed conflict.  Stores being OPEN on Thanksgiving Day won’t save them, either. 

I’m conflicted!  For while we so passionately advocate for those who are asked to work on Thanksgiving Day to be “off,” for some, it’s a day of badly needed overtime pay that goes far in supporting their family. 

While we so passionately advocate for those who must work on Thanksgiving Day to be “off,” we are grateful for the Firefighters, Police Officers, Nurses and Doctors, and others who will save lives and keep people safe. 

Having everyone off?  That’s just a plain kind of irresponsible.  Gas stations, convenience stores, and toll booths are all necessary things when people are traveling to Grandma’s house or even my house.  Someone always has to work, despite a holiday—not only doctors and nurses, firefighters and police officers, but NFL players and coaches, TV broadcasters and camera crews, the stadiums at least must be full of employees—hard-working employees most necessary for the holiday to achieve its intended celebratory fervor FOR ALL THOSE PEOPLE WHO ARE OFF FROM WORK!  After all, what’s a turkey sandwich without a football game! 

So here’s what I think.  I think this whole “keep the stores closed” is really a part of our PRIVILEGE—to which we really shouldn’t be entitled. 

More than boycotting stores or trying to publicly shame them, what if we worked to be better advocates for some things that really do matter.  For stores to pay honest, living wages—all the time (not just for special holidays).  For stores to treat employees with dignity and respect.  To advocate for fair ways of giving time off around the holiday seasons, so that not just the lowest have to work, but that it is and becomes a shared venture.  If stores are open, make sure the highest offices have a share in the holiday working. 

How about advocating for care and concern for those who do have to work.  So that we can say “thank you” and be more grateful for those who are working to provide needed services like first responders and healthcare workers—AND those who are working to serve our lunch-table or make our NFL gameday experience a better one. 

Let’s advocate for wage increases and double-pay on holidays. 

And lets go back to LEADING THE WAY on holidays as people of faith.  Praying together.  Worshipping together.  Supporting our communities from top to bottom—together. 

But frankly, dear friends, we so easily forget our privilege, our own selfishness.  By our willfulness to close stores, we simply deny so many others an opportunity they might willingly choose in order to get ahead—or worse, just eek by.  Holiday pay can be more substantial.  Many people will willingly trade a day off, for a day of extra pay—especially those who are poorest among us.  Who are we to insist that they cannot take advantage of this opportunity?  Who are we to insist that those who wish to work, may; while those who wish not to work wouldn’t have to? 

That stores are open on Thanksgiving simply isn’t the problem. 

No one forces us to shop. 

And not shopping will not restore some kind of restoration of the values of yesteryear. 

But, the values we use to evaluate how stores are behaving, our desire for all people to celebrate a holiday together, our yearning for a new and different world, no doubt point us to the Kingdom of God where no one works for pay and everyone is served.  This isn’t a dream world for some other time.  It’s the call and claim of the Kingdom for now.  Jesus would have us get out there and change the world—not just complain about it.