A Modern Day Nativity Scene

Two significant events occurred in the past week, one global and the other local. On December 5, Nelson Mandela passed away at the age of 95, and in the early hours of this morning a fire broke out in downtown Ripon. The memorial service for Mandela was attended by countless world leaders (well not countless, surely someone counted them), including four United States presidents. Firefighters, reporters and curious spectators viewed the blaze downtown this morning. At first, Mandela's death seems isolated from the fire in our small town. But though both of these events, I see a connection.

These events are what make us human.

I read the status of a Facebook friend this morning who wrote, "A man at the gas station (I was at the BP station by Save A Lot) noticed the fire department plate on my truck and asked if I was a fireman. I kind of laughed and told him no, but my husband is. He asked if he is at the fire in town and when I said that he's been there since 3:30 [a.m.] he told me to, 'tell him thank you for risking his own safety and life for others.' I just about tipped over --- couldn't be a prouder wife at that moment!"

You have probably seen in a newspaper or on t.v. the mounds of flowers laid by strangers in South Africa to honor the great hero.

Through the tragedy of this morning and the sadness and celebration of Madiba's passing we are reminded of the care and love in the world and in our community. My Facebook newsfeed is full of people listing the items needed by the Ripon families whose Main St. apartments suffered damage. Before 11 a.m., I was made aware of the ways First Congregational Church of Ripon is planning to help these families through donations of soup, money and other items.

From both of these sad events I am filled with joy. I feel jubilant that God has given us the gift of compassion that we can share with others. When we suffer heartache we don't suffer alone. God mourns with us and gives us brothers and sisters to carry the burden as well.

This year, in my own thoughts, I've explored what it means to be human. What I've found most compelling is how we react to times when life is really tough. From those moments I've seen the most beauty in people, and I believe that is a direct expression of God's presence within all of us.

From the physical loss of Mandela I have seen a world that has taken time to celebrate his beliefs, not because they were his but because they are all of ours: love, education, resilience, harmony. From the downtown fire I see care from the community for the families and business owners on that block, even when some of us don't know any of those affected by name.

In a previous blog post Pastor Joanna wrote that the image of baby Jesus is one of her favorite depictions of him. I would agree with her. I believe that visualizing Jesus as a tiny baby is an image of each one of us. We cannot avoid the pain of tragedy and we feel helpless when it comes. But we are surrounded by wise men, angels, shepherds, Marys, and Josephs who take care of us and who love us. 

We are made in the image of Jesus, but I also think we are made in the image of all who attended his birth, and in this way we have the gift of compassion and love to share with the world. 

Sermon Reflection | December 1, 2013

Read: Psalm 122; Listen: A Secular Psalm Response to Psalm 12, by Maic D'Agostino, and read by Erin Ter Beest

Listen: Finding Peace, Sharing Peace

Dig a Little Deeper:

Last week I ranted about shopping on Thanksgiving.  I said that I think it's ridiculous, and even quite sad, that we've begun shopping on the one day of the year dedicated to giving thanks for what we already have.  In response, one of our worship committee members came up with a pun on Psalm 122: "I was glad when they said to me 'Let us go up to the house of the Lord & Taylor."  My husband, who is a poet by calling, took the pun a step further and wrote this Secular Psalm: 

A Secular Psalm Response to Psalm 122, by Maic D’AgostinoI was glad when they advertised to me,    ‘Come shop in the house of the Lord & Taylor!’  Our feet are stampeding    to your gates, O Macy’s,
And Wal-Mart, too—built like cities    that are full of deals upon deals upon deals.  To the department stores the shoppers go up,    the shoppers of Saving & Buying, as was decreed for First World nations,    to give thanks to the name of the Sale.  For there the thrones for CEOs are set up,    the thrones of the house of Revenue. 
Pray for the stocks of Wall Street:    ‘May they prosper who are shopped by you.  Opulence be within their walls,    and low prices within your towers.’  For the sake of my relatives and friends    I will say, ‘You won’t believe how much junk I bought.’  For the sake of the house of the Large Retailer,    I will seek your doorbusters.

Advent is my favorite season of the year, both as a preacher and as a Christian.  The image of Little Baby Jesus speaks to me like no other image of Jesus.  I'll tell you why.  I've seen the vulnerability of my own babies.  I've seen them floppy and completely dependent.  I've seen them sick and unable to understand why they are in pain.  When I imagine that God chose a baby-- floppy and vulnerable-- to redeem the whole wide world, it completely changes the way I see God.  It completely changes the way I see myself.  It shows that God trusts and believes that we, tiny and flawed and vulnerable as we are, are capable of bringing about the Kingdom. God doesn't need the strong and powerful to do the work; God just needs us to come as we are. 

I'll get into that more this season.  I hope you'll be around to share in the conversation with me. 

--Pastor Joanna