Advent 2B
December 7, 2008

Continuity


This morning’s sermon does not have a beginning, middle or end. That doesn’t make for good writing and definitely creates confusion in the presentation.
I know someone who is presently teaching writing, specifically research paper writing, to college students. As the semester nears its end, the margins of his students’ papers are framed with his comments: “What’s the point you are presenting; where is your thesis, your argument? You have not looked at the existing knowledge on the subject, so you haven’t logically analyzed your topic. Your conclusion is flawed!” Research paper writing, it turns out, is about organizing confusion: looking at an issue from every angle possible, in order to demonstrate the issues and a new way forward. In this respect, then, the process of a research paper is a lot like the process we use daily to tackle life’s tough problems. We take a confusing situation and we attempt to render it reasonable—to make sense of it—by framing it with the logic and organization at our disposal, in any given time and space. In other words, inside of our framing we try to pinpoint a beginning, middle and an end—so that we get the picture. That is very helpful, a step in fashioning a step forward. Yet, researchers—the best of them; science researchers especially, the very ones who most employ logic and reason and verifiability—remind us that the organized picture inside the frame is one thing; however, outside the frame, the big picture still does not have a beginning, a middle and an end. In fact, they say, confusion continues; chaos abounds. People of faith, however, in creedal assertion say: Hmm ‘No beginning, no middle, and no end? That sounds to us a lot like God. Amen.’
No beginning, no middle, no end; rather continuity. Amidst all the change in this life, which we consider in the season of Advent as we get ready for Christmas when we ponder anew what the Almighty can do; in the midst of change—confusing and chaotic—we celebrate the continuity of God. That’s why there are a number of rich traditions with long histories during this season. It’s our faithful response to the poverty winter brings to the shortness of life.
Continuity: Like the Advent Wreath itself—a circle: no beginning, no middle, no end. The evergreen is (like a symbolic research paper) compared to the cyclical return of colder and colder and bleak (and is presented, argued, as the way forward that lights the path) with the increasing brightness of candles lighted one through four, whilst this life’s darkness is at the door, more and more. The continuity of God ‘midst all life’s change.
Yesterday, December 6, the Church celebrated the feast Sint Nicolaus, Bishop of Myra in the early 4th Century, in the Anatolian region of modern day Turkey. The legends of Bishop Nicolaus embody the continuity of God, reminding us that change need not bring anxiety, that the divine can and does deliver “Comfort, comfort, my people”—bringing welcome change into our vulnerable and impoverished lives. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Nicholas
There are the stories of the Bishop rescuing homeless street children who had either been thrown out or abandoned by parents who could not care for them; including the miraculous tale of Nicolaus on the scene too late, fishing butchered children from a briny boiling cauldron and the three little ones being resurrected to new life. Equally vulnerable to children, exposed to the chance and change of weather on the high seas, sailors from everywhere were favorites of Nicolaus. Continually they could depend on the church’s hospitality and shelter when they docked in harbor. The continuity of God was also experienced by three sisters—three girls coming of age one after another with their single parent father who had no gold for any of their dowries. Lest these young women reach marriageable status without the traditional cash bonus for potential husbands, a lack that would press the girls into prostitution, Nicolaus weighed in with the church’s gold—three round sacks of it, slinging one bag after another up into a window of their dwelling. So what if the church altar was missing some of its capital: the continuity of God had to be demonstrated. Bishop was willing to hock a gold candlestick, crucifix or three in order to save these young girls from the culture’s sex trafficking. Yes, the continuity of God (which, by the way, those three slung orbs hanging there out the window or over the door somehow transmuted into the sign which to this day signals that you have come upon a pawn shop)! Of course, such transmutation is nothing compared to how Sint Nicolaus – Sinterklaas – Santa Claus has mutated out of being the gift-bearing bishop visiting the poor, sick and suffering on Christmas morn, his gift reminding them, as well as all the Church and State, that those exposed to the changes of this life and the marginalizations of society are so much like the Christ Child, favored of God.
The continuity of God yet brings change. Even our continuous traditions remind us; though they are muted, because they are fierce. We celebrate on December 25th, Christ our Savior is born. On the traditional church calendar, what comes next on December 26th? The Feast of Stephen, commemorates the first Christian martyr. He was tried in a kangaroo of a religious court, on the technicality that his speaking of the birth of Christ meant he was speaking against the established religious traditions of the day. With no Nicolaus to ransom him with three bags of gold, Stephen is remembered iconographically with three rounded rocks—those used to stone him to death and to remind us continuously that bearing the birth of Christ changes things. We remember even more, following Christmas, on December 28th, this commemoration hardly a feast but an orgy of killing: the slaughter of The Holy Innocents. You remember the story of how the three kings take a back road home so as to avoid telling Herod where the Christ Child lay; and thus Herod all firstborn newborn boys did slay.
Continuity and Change. In celebrating the continuity of God, we must also ponder the change which even God’s continuity brings. We must be careful that we do not only frame what we like about Christmas morn and then try to live by that very tranquil and organized picture. God will not let us change the story like that. God will not let us change God like that. God is change.
The sermon doesn’t end here but it is over for now. Some of the points raised in last week’s sermon and today’s are provocative and confusing. Change and continuity are provocative and confusing. God is continuity and change.
In the remaining days of Advent ponder a new what the Almighty can do. Do you recall where that line comes from? A hymn. Do you remember the next phrase in that hymn: Ponder anew what the Almighty can do and I will praise him with a new song. We’ll get there before this Advent ends, because amidst all this continuous change, we’ll consider how Mary’s weighty pondering issues forth in a new song. Amen

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