On a Sunday when we are likely to have several visitors in the congregation, I want to say a word about how I understand preaching and sermons. The word preach is sometimes used in a pejorative way by some people. In fact, one of the definitions for preach in the American Heritage Dictionary is "to give moral instruction, especially in a tedious manner." And the same dictionary says this for sermon: "A lengthy and tedious reproof or exhortation." I guess the American Heritage Dictionary likes the word tedious. Unfortunately many of us have experienced sermons and preaching as tedious on occasion.
In this church as part of our worship service we listen to a couple of readings from the Bible—in today's passages, words written almost two thousand years ago. And we try to find a relationship between those readings and life as we are living it at the end of 2006. We do that in the hope of making some kind of spiritual connection, that is, in the hope of experiencing something that will address the deep longings of our souls. That's the way I approach preaching, or giving a sermon as part of worship.
This year in the season of Advent, we are highlighting four themes or qualities: hope, love, peace and joy. Thursday evening I heard the New York Philharmonic's annual performance of Handel's Messiah in the Riverside Church. That congregation's Advent banners were part of the décor, and I noticed their four themes were hope, promises, love, and joy—joy being the theme for today, as it is for us.
In the two Bible readings we have heard, the verb form of joy is what catches our attention. Paul the Apostle writes to a little group of first century Christians, "Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say rejoice." Joy—rejoice. In the other reading, Mary, a Jewish teenager has just learned she is going to have a baby. She is engaged but not married to a man who is not the father of the coming baby. As she pours out her feelings, she says, "My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior."
For me it is important to remember that the two people who speak of rejoicing are not in ideal circumstances. The Apostle Paul is writing from a prison cell in Ephesus, awaiting word on whether he will be charged with a capital crime. Mary the young woman has to explain her pregnancy to Joseph her fiancé and possibly to her family, although we are not told anything about them. We know that she is of low standing in her society—what we might call a peasant. But both Paul and Mary are able to rejoice—experience joy.
That helps us understand that joy in the Biblical sense is not to be confused with exuberance or with superficial cheerfulness. For me joy in the Biblical sense is a quality that can run all through life with the various circumstances that can arise. If I were to give a one-word definition, I would say centeredness. And I have talked about that before. After urging his readers to rejoice, Paul goes on to say "Do not worry about anything..." or in another translation, "Have no anxiety." One scholar defines the joy Paul speaks of as "radiance amid the storm and stress of life." Who of us would not want some of that?
From time to time I hear people speak about "an emptiness inside." When I hear that, I pay attention. It is the opposite of joy as we are thinking about it this morning. In this month's issue of Men's Health magazine, which usually reflects our culture's obsession with sex and money, there is an article about a man in his late thirties or early forties who has quit his fast-track job in the corporate world—with the encouragement of his life-partner. As I remember it, he hated what he was doing and felt a total lack of satisfaction with the life he was living. His solution has been to engage in a different kind of work, which may get rid of the stress he was feeling but probably won't address the deep longings of his soul.
The article reminded me of all the people who come to a church they hear about with the hope of making a spiritual connection—which is actually a very good reason to attend a church service. But too often they don't get what they are looking for in one or two visits, so they stop coming. The pastor of the church I visited a year ago in Littleton, Colorado, told about a married couple who spoke to him after a Sunday service. They said they felt they had the basics of a very good life: comfortable home, degrees from prestigious schools, lucrative careers, two beautiful children. They were in church because they wanted some "spiritual icing for their perfect cake." The pastor noticed they only attended once or twice. They didn't find their icing.
I suspect what they and thousands of people like them were looking for was not really spiritual icing—if there is such a thing. I can only share with you my experience, which is that deep spiritual satisfaction isn't something you get quickly or easily. It usually involves a re-orienting of your priorities. It requires discipline and effort—the willingness to be honest with oneself and at least one or two other people. For me it has meant acknowledging a power greater than myself, whom I call God, and trusting that power to show me the path toward joy or deep inner satisfaction.
Last August in the Saturday New York Times, there was an article about a woman named Lucia Oerter. Three years ago her son-in-law killed her two-and-a-half year old granddaughter, another little girl and himself. Ms. Oerter was interviewed by the Times because she is a Presbyterian minister, and in her preaching she emphasizes that "faith does not protect against pain." Rather, she encourages people to share the troubling aspects of their lives with people they come to know and trust in settings like churches that are not moralistic and judgmental. Three years after her devastating loss, Ms. Oerter was described by the Times reporter as "plainspoken and funny." As I read about her and the quality of her life with its focus on faith, the word joy came into my mind. It's something she works on all the time. She is a regular participant in a faith community. She recommends therapy and the support of a spiritual community in dealing with the challenges life brings to everyone at some time or another.
In the matter of joy, it's essential to enlarge your frame of reference. Some time ago, at this time of year, the television program ER closed an episode with a medical intern asking the surgeon Peter if he had any childhood memories of Christmas. Peter though for a moment and said, "I remember my mother telling us kids
There were shepherds abiding in the fields, keeping watch over their flocks by night...."
And the camera panned out of the hospital to look out over the city of Chicago at night. And I thought about how what Peter's mother said goes on, "And an angel of the Lord appeared to the shepherds and said to them, Do not be afraid, for I bring you good news of a great joy, which is for all people."
And the good news that leads to profound joy, to continuing centeredness, is the truth of God's unconditional, affirming, inclusive, accepting love for you and me, and for those we love, and for the world.
If you are looking for a spiritual connection at Christmas, you may find it as you keep coming back, as you keep opening your heart and letting God's love touch your pleasures and your pains, your triumphs and your tragedies. Living with a sense of joy is more than a possibility. It is an opportunity available to everyone.