Advent: Hope And Expectation
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"Advent: Hope and Expectation" by Lamar Massingill
"The Re-Gifting Dilemma" by Timothy Merrill
* * * * * * * *
Advent: Hope and Expectation
Lamar Massingill
Luke 21:25-36
"Be watching at all times," this passage reminds us. Be aware. Be on the watch. Be discerning. Be practical when you see things happening. Why? Because it just may be the dawning of a new day, which is really what Advent is all about. It's about hope and expectation; hoping and expecting something good in the midst of the worst of times.
One reason there is so little excitement in standard brand Protestant churches is that there is so small a sense of expectation. The expectation of something new, sadly, has either died at the bottom of the skepticism of our day -- a skepticism born of bitter experience, or has been killed by the dogma of religious form without substance. Such religion offers no more than black and white answers to people trying to escape the grey ones. Or, expectation has died in the pseudo-intellectual hopes of political revolutionary movements so prevalent in the country and the world.
It's really more than sad, because even religious people really don't expect anything new anymore. It's a shame to state this, but the New Testament is nothing if you don't believe it's a testament of the new. Listen to some of its words: it speaks of a new heaven and a new earth; it anticipates a new song; it speaks of new wine; it describes a "new being," which all are intended to continue to become; and winds up in the Revelation of Saint John praising a God who says, "Behold, I am making all things new."
At the beginning of Advent, the New Testament declares that we shall have what our faith expects: a Messiah. It is the entire hope of the New Testament. But if we don't expect it, we don't deserve to hope for it, for expectation without hope is simply being optimistic for what might or might not happen. Optimism is never the same as hope while expectation carries hope along to all of us.
It's a great thing to hope for something so new that it can change our lives, but it won't happen without a choice on our part to harbor the expectation that it will happen. Nothing can save us from the absolute cruelty of our world, unless we choose it. The rich young ruler, for example, chose that he didn't want anything new in his life and walked away from the adventure of a lifetime. Jesus did not go after him and beg the young man to follow him to a new day, and he won't go after us either, for unless we hope for it and expect Jesus to enable us to bring that new day -- that new being -- not going to happen. Jesus simply can't do anything for the hopeless and those whose expectation is the same familiar and comfortable misery they've always lived with. To expect the Christ is not to pray "thy kingdom come," and tomorrow bar its way. To expect the Christ to come is to hope for and expect the unexpected.
And yes, it's hard to hope in such days that we read about in the gospel for this first Sunday in Advent. But our world has always been this way. Throughout history, we have always had reason to hope. In fact, if it weren't for the cruelty and conflict of the world in which humans have always lived, what reason would there be to hope?
Over a decade ago, one of my friends shared with me what an older and very wise woman, upon hearing that he was going into the ministry, said to him: "The world will break your heart if you dare love it too deeply. Be careful in how you respond to such an agony." My friend said that it has taken him three decades to realize the truth of these words and their fuller implications. And indeed the world is full of agony. It will not bend to our rules. It will not compromise with us. This tends to make many hopeless.
There is a saying in rabbinic teaching that for the world to survive it must hold fast to three things: truth, justice, and peace. And sadly, to no one of these things have the peoples of the world ever held fast with any grip approaching a tight one. The result is the kind of world one of our heroes of the past describes, which sounds strangely like the world Jesus described: "a world of brilliance without wisdom; a world of power without conscience; a world in which we know more about war than we do about peace; more about killing than we do about living." And no, those profound words are not my words. They were spoken in 1948 by General Omar Bradley, when the prospects for humanity were bleak and hopeless. On another occasion, General Bradley said we Americans were becoming "a nation of nuclear giants and ethical midgets." Nothing much has changed.
However, hope and expectation can change everything. So let the message of this First Sunday in Advent say to us through song and scripture and the candle of hope that if we don't expect the Messiah to come to us, then he won't. Unless you believe "there is hope," you are hopeless! Unless you say "There must be something more," you're living something less than life.
So what are we going to say today as we worship beneath our beautiful steeple pointing to the hope that the sky has no limits when we expect and hope for a Messiah? Is our commitment worthy of that steeple? Is our hope and expectation worthy of that steeple? What will we say as we look at the sacred flame symbolizing a sacred hope? Is our hope worthy to be in its midst? What will we say as we look at the royal blue advent paraments our sanctuary is adorned with and instead of thinking "ain't they beautiful?" think that they point to a royal one who will make all things even more beautiful?
Advent says that we shall have what our faith hopes for. But we have to expect it. Advent is a season to yearn for Him who is nothing but goodness and decency and sweet peace. God's love incarnate. It is his face alone that holds any hope for our faces. It is not a hope that is a noble attitude deciding to stoically endure despite everything. Hogwash! (My preaching professor would be embarrassed!) It is rather a hope that changes our lives. A hope that yearns for God. And there is no one who yearns better than the psalmist when he sang: "Like the deer that yearns for running steams, so my soul is yearning for you, my God!" So... Come! Oh Come, Emmanuel! Prince of Peace! God's love incarnate! Come! And change us!
The Rev. Lamar Massingill, a former Southern Baptist pastor, and also long time minister at the historic United Methodist Church in Port Gibson, Mississippi (1988-1999), is now Religion Editor for the Magnolia Gazette (magnoliagazette.com), for which he writes a weekly column. Massingill has traveled nationally and internationally and has lectured widely on the interaction between religion and psychology. He recently retired from the parish church after thirty years of pastoral ministry.
The Re-gifting Dilemma
Timothy F. Merrill
Jeremiah 33:14-16
I confess.
Two years ago, my daughter gave me this sweater for Christmas right off the rack from a Structures store. It featured a techno-bizarro pattern that made me dizzy to look at it. I appreciated the cash my kid laid out for the sweater, and I knew she meant well, and I accepted it enthusiastically and graciously. I packed it back in its box where it stayed until last Christmas.
Then I gave it, never worn, to my brother-in-law who lives 1,300 miles away. In other words, I re-gifted it.
Are you a re-gifter? Probably. According to the snitches who compile data on the spending habits of Americans, 53% of the general public is into re-gifting.
Re-gifting is the practice of giving a gift you have received -- giving that same gift to someone else. Gasp! Even if we don't all do it, we've all thought about doing it.
Miss Manners says that re-gifting is okay as long as we don't get caught. If we're going to recycle a gift, remove all traces that would suggest it's been given before.
Let's face it: There are some gifts we just can't get excited about. I'm talking about the fruitcakes, the gaudy jewelry, the stupid appliances for making waffles or grilled cheese sandwiches that you'll only use once after which it will just take up precious shelf space -- all that kind of stuff. It's garage sale stuff that is begging to be given away.
Some people are now taking re-gifting to the next level: de-gifting. With the internet providing so many opportunities to sell stuff, and people willing to buy just about anything, more Americans than ever are taking their under-appreciated gifts and hawking them on e-Bay.
Is this ethical? Depends upon whom you ask. But ethics columnist Randy Cohen doesn't think it's a bad idea. He argues that if you accept the idea of re-gifting, de-gifting is not much different. After all, the donor expected you to derive some benefit, read profit, from the gift he/she gave. Ultimately, their goal was to bring you happiness, and if selling that gaudy brooch on e-Bay brings you happiness and some cash -- go for it!
So this Christmas, as you prepare to shop, remember that you may be buying a gift that may be re-gifted or de-gifted by the recipient.
I contrast this state of affairs with the gift that comes to us from God, who says, "I will fulfill my promise" (Jeremiah 33:14). God's gift to us is a Branch springing up from the root of Jesse (Isaiah 11:1), and he will bring justice and righteousness to the land (Jeremiah 33:15).
That's not a gift I would ever want to give away.
from Lectionary Tales for the Pulpit, Series IV, Cycle C (Lima, Ohio: CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 2003), pp. 11-12.
*****************************************
StoryShare, December 2, 2012, issue.
Copyright 2012 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
"Advent: Hope and Expectation" by Lamar Massingill
"The Re-Gifting Dilemma" by Timothy Merrill
* * * * * * * *
Advent: Hope and Expectation
Lamar Massingill
Luke 21:25-36
"Be watching at all times," this passage reminds us. Be aware. Be on the watch. Be discerning. Be practical when you see things happening. Why? Because it just may be the dawning of a new day, which is really what Advent is all about. It's about hope and expectation; hoping and expecting something good in the midst of the worst of times.
One reason there is so little excitement in standard brand Protestant churches is that there is so small a sense of expectation. The expectation of something new, sadly, has either died at the bottom of the skepticism of our day -- a skepticism born of bitter experience, or has been killed by the dogma of religious form without substance. Such religion offers no more than black and white answers to people trying to escape the grey ones. Or, expectation has died in the pseudo-intellectual hopes of political revolutionary movements so prevalent in the country and the world.
It's really more than sad, because even religious people really don't expect anything new anymore. It's a shame to state this, but the New Testament is nothing if you don't believe it's a testament of the new. Listen to some of its words: it speaks of a new heaven and a new earth; it anticipates a new song; it speaks of new wine; it describes a "new being," which all are intended to continue to become; and winds up in the Revelation of Saint John praising a God who says, "Behold, I am making all things new."
At the beginning of Advent, the New Testament declares that we shall have what our faith expects: a Messiah. It is the entire hope of the New Testament. But if we don't expect it, we don't deserve to hope for it, for expectation without hope is simply being optimistic for what might or might not happen. Optimism is never the same as hope while expectation carries hope along to all of us.
It's a great thing to hope for something so new that it can change our lives, but it won't happen without a choice on our part to harbor the expectation that it will happen. Nothing can save us from the absolute cruelty of our world, unless we choose it. The rich young ruler, for example, chose that he didn't want anything new in his life and walked away from the adventure of a lifetime. Jesus did not go after him and beg the young man to follow him to a new day, and he won't go after us either, for unless we hope for it and expect Jesus to enable us to bring that new day -- that new being -- not going to happen. Jesus simply can't do anything for the hopeless and those whose expectation is the same familiar and comfortable misery they've always lived with. To expect the Christ is not to pray "thy kingdom come," and tomorrow bar its way. To expect the Christ to come is to hope for and expect the unexpected.
And yes, it's hard to hope in such days that we read about in the gospel for this first Sunday in Advent. But our world has always been this way. Throughout history, we have always had reason to hope. In fact, if it weren't for the cruelty and conflict of the world in which humans have always lived, what reason would there be to hope?
Over a decade ago, one of my friends shared with me what an older and very wise woman, upon hearing that he was going into the ministry, said to him: "The world will break your heart if you dare love it too deeply. Be careful in how you respond to such an agony." My friend said that it has taken him three decades to realize the truth of these words and their fuller implications. And indeed the world is full of agony. It will not bend to our rules. It will not compromise with us. This tends to make many hopeless.
There is a saying in rabbinic teaching that for the world to survive it must hold fast to three things: truth, justice, and peace. And sadly, to no one of these things have the peoples of the world ever held fast with any grip approaching a tight one. The result is the kind of world one of our heroes of the past describes, which sounds strangely like the world Jesus described: "a world of brilliance without wisdom; a world of power without conscience; a world in which we know more about war than we do about peace; more about killing than we do about living." And no, those profound words are not my words. They were spoken in 1948 by General Omar Bradley, when the prospects for humanity were bleak and hopeless. On another occasion, General Bradley said we Americans were becoming "a nation of nuclear giants and ethical midgets." Nothing much has changed.
However, hope and expectation can change everything. So let the message of this First Sunday in Advent say to us through song and scripture and the candle of hope that if we don't expect the Messiah to come to us, then he won't. Unless you believe "there is hope," you are hopeless! Unless you say "There must be something more," you're living something less than life.
So what are we going to say today as we worship beneath our beautiful steeple pointing to the hope that the sky has no limits when we expect and hope for a Messiah? Is our commitment worthy of that steeple? Is our hope and expectation worthy of that steeple? What will we say as we look at the sacred flame symbolizing a sacred hope? Is our hope worthy to be in its midst? What will we say as we look at the royal blue advent paraments our sanctuary is adorned with and instead of thinking "ain't they beautiful?" think that they point to a royal one who will make all things even more beautiful?
Advent says that we shall have what our faith hopes for. But we have to expect it. Advent is a season to yearn for Him who is nothing but goodness and decency and sweet peace. God's love incarnate. It is his face alone that holds any hope for our faces. It is not a hope that is a noble attitude deciding to stoically endure despite everything. Hogwash! (My preaching professor would be embarrassed!) It is rather a hope that changes our lives. A hope that yearns for God. And there is no one who yearns better than the psalmist when he sang: "Like the deer that yearns for running steams, so my soul is yearning for you, my God!" So... Come! Oh Come, Emmanuel! Prince of Peace! God's love incarnate! Come! And change us!
The Rev. Lamar Massingill, a former Southern Baptist pastor, and also long time minister at the historic United Methodist Church in Port Gibson, Mississippi (1988-1999), is now Religion Editor for the Magnolia Gazette (magnoliagazette.com), for which he writes a weekly column. Massingill has traveled nationally and internationally and has lectured widely on the interaction between religion and psychology. He recently retired from the parish church after thirty years of pastoral ministry.
The Re-gifting Dilemma
Timothy F. Merrill
Jeremiah 33:14-16
I confess.
Two years ago, my daughter gave me this sweater for Christmas right off the rack from a Structures store. It featured a techno-bizarro pattern that made me dizzy to look at it. I appreciated the cash my kid laid out for the sweater, and I knew she meant well, and I accepted it enthusiastically and graciously. I packed it back in its box where it stayed until last Christmas.
Then I gave it, never worn, to my brother-in-law who lives 1,300 miles away. In other words, I re-gifted it.
Are you a re-gifter? Probably. According to the snitches who compile data on the spending habits of Americans, 53% of the general public is into re-gifting.
Re-gifting is the practice of giving a gift you have received -- giving that same gift to someone else. Gasp! Even if we don't all do it, we've all thought about doing it.
Miss Manners says that re-gifting is okay as long as we don't get caught. If we're going to recycle a gift, remove all traces that would suggest it's been given before.
Let's face it: There are some gifts we just can't get excited about. I'm talking about the fruitcakes, the gaudy jewelry, the stupid appliances for making waffles or grilled cheese sandwiches that you'll only use once after which it will just take up precious shelf space -- all that kind of stuff. It's garage sale stuff that is begging to be given away.
Some people are now taking re-gifting to the next level: de-gifting. With the internet providing so many opportunities to sell stuff, and people willing to buy just about anything, more Americans than ever are taking their under-appreciated gifts and hawking them on e-Bay.
Is this ethical? Depends upon whom you ask. But ethics columnist Randy Cohen doesn't think it's a bad idea. He argues that if you accept the idea of re-gifting, de-gifting is not much different. After all, the donor expected you to derive some benefit, read profit, from the gift he/she gave. Ultimately, their goal was to bring you happiness, and if selling that gaudy brooch on e-Bay brings you happiness and some cash -- go for it!
So this Christmas, as you prepare to shop, remember that you may be buying a gift that may be re-gifted or de-gifted by the recipient.
I contrast this state of affairs with the gift that comes to us from God, who says, "I will fulfill my promise" (Jeremiah 33:14). God's gift to us is a Branch springing up from the root of Jesse (Isaiah 11:1), and he will bring justice and righteousness to the land (Jeremiah 33:15).
That's not a gift I would ever want to give away.
from Lectionary Tales for the Pulpit, Series IV, Cycle C (Lima, Ohio: CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 2003), pp. 11-12.
*****************************************
StoryShare, December 2, 2012, issue.
Copyright 2012 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
