Saturday, November 29, 2014

The Purple Wet Blanket

It took me by surprise last Monday as I walked through the atrium of the Shops at Liberty Place on my way to court in Philadelphia. It was a glistening, multi-storied Christmas tree – perhaps the largest I've ever seen.

Atrium Christmas Tree - The Shops at Liberty Place
Before I came upon that massive tree, I hadn't really noticed stores putting up holiday decorations or Christmas sale flyers in the newspaper or the local radio station that's been playing Christmas music around the clock. I had been hunkered down over the past couple weeks to prepare for a trial, only to be ambushed by the Christmas season on my way to court. 

So after my trial was behind me, I pulled one of my dad's Advent sermons out of his barrel for a refresher course in preparing for Christmas. What I found was a reminder that Advent -- our time of inner preparation for Christ's birth -- looks far different than the run-up to Christmas that we see on the surface as we walk through streets, shops and neighborhoods all decked out for the holiday:

“The color purple is used traditionally by the Church to mark the two great penitential seasons of the Christian year – Lent (the period of preparation for Easter) and Advent (the period of preparation for Christmas). The color purple is the color of self-examination, sorrow for one’s sin, and repentance. It evokes a somber mood, as do the hymns of these two seasons -- which are often written in a minor key. That’s the theory.

The reality is that the Church can pull off a somber and penitential season before Easter, but it’s well nigh impossible in our culture today to do so before Christmas. How do you tell Christians not to celebrate Christmas until December 24th when the rest of society has been doing so since Halloween? How do you tell Christians that in order to truly appreciate Christmas they first need a period of quiet introspection? Many a pastor has gotten into trouble with his or her flock by insisting on a traditional Advent observance – by refusing to pull out all of the Christmas stops until Christmas Eve. More than one has been branded a kill-joy, a wet blanket, if you will. And in this case, you can color that wet blanket purple.

Of course, the important thing is not whether we hang purple or white in the sanctuary before Christmas Eve, or whether we sing dirges or carols. The important thing is that we remember that we can’t really appreciate the fact that God sent his Son into the world unless we know personally why he had to come. I can’t celebrate a Savior unless I understand what he saves me from. There is some personal agony of the soul to be felt before we can really celebrate the hope that resides in the Baby of Bethlehem. Otherwise, Christmas is reduced to a warm, syrupy emotional escape that quickly fades.

The bottom line here is that Christmas is shallow unless we take our own sin seriously. Christmas is God’s first step in dealing decisively with the human condition. Advent is the time when we own up to our sin problem. Most of us modern Christians have trouble with this idea of our own sinfulness. We do not see ourselves as depraved. We readily admit that we are not perfect, but we also know that, relatively speaking, we’re not all that bad. 

Our error here is that sin, as the Bible defines it, has nothing directly to do with morality. As far as the Bible is concerned, the Apostle Paul was as big a sinner as King Herod. As far as the Bible is concerned, an ax murderer and a Girl Scout stand equally condemned before God. That’s offensive to hear, I know. It offends me. Nevertheless it is true, because sin, in the biblical sense, is not what we've done or what we haven’t done. Sin is our innate human tendency to declare our independence from God. Some of us may do this by committing heinous crimes, and others may do it by proving how good we can be, but either way we are telling God to buzz off. Either way we cut ourselves off from God.

The essence of salvation is surrendering our pride, our self-will – no matter what form it takes – and letting God be God for us. Somehow, this must take place during Advent if we are really to have Christmas. Jesus was born, died, and rose again to save us. This is not a three-act play we can enjoy and then, when the final curtain falls, go home to business as usual. It is God acting in history to confront us with who we are, and who we can be, if we surrender to God.

Advent is not a purple wet blanket. It is not really a season on the calendar. It is a season of the soul, a season you must have to prepare for your personal Savior.”

From: “The Purple Wet Blanket”
Scripture: Luke 3:1-20
Preached Nov. 29, 1987 @ Paoli UMC

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Thank You and You're Welcome

Over the last three years, I've gone from being the youngest lawyer in my office to being nearly the oldest. Working now with a younger crowd has made me realize that folks don’t say “thank you” as often as they used to. And when I thank co-workers for their help or for a job well done, it’s rare to hear “you’re welcome.” The common response I get is “no problem.” No problem? At the risk of sounding like an old curmudgeon, I don’t like “no problem.” It belittles my thanks. I’m thanking you because it was a problem … or could have been one without your help. Why even say “thanks” for something that’s “no problem” at all?


I had to laugh earlier this week when I read a sermon in which my dad complained about someone’s reaction to him saying “thank you.” I guess it’s true what they say: The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Here’s what my father wrote on saying “thank you”:

The service had come to an end, and I went to the back of the sanctuary to greet the worshipers as they filed out. Near the end of the line came the soloist of the morning, who had done quite a nice job that day. I told her so and thanked her warmly. As I spoke a look of horror came across her face, and she said, ‘Oh no, pastor! Don’t thank me. Give all the praise to God. It’s not me; He does it all!’”

That’s not the first time I had received such a reaction when I thanked another Christian for doing something, nor would it be the last. It is common in some Christian circles to refuse to accept personal thanks. I've thought a lot about that reaction from the soloist and others, and while I understand the point they are making, it seems to me to grow out of a narrow and rigid way of thinking about our relationship with God – and an inadequate understanding of our personal and social needs as human beings.

It must be conceded that in … Paul’s letter to the Philippian Church, he couches his thanks to the Christians there as an act of thanks to God: ‘I thank my God,’ he writes, ‘ every time I remember you. In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now[.]’ (Phil. 1:3-5 NIV) And yet, if Paul only wanted to thank God, why would he put it in this letter so that the Philippians would overhear him? I believe Paul understood the necessity of thanking others for their efforts and accomplishments.

Saying ‘thank you’ is a very important Christian grace for at least three reasons:
  •  First, it satisfies the need that every person has to receive feedback concerning his efforts. There is nothing more draining than to work hard and faithfully day after day and seldom or never hear a word of appreciation. … Someone is bound to say, ‘As Christians we don’t serve in order to be praised by men, but just to please God.’ That is very true. But how does God express his pleasure to us? Doesn't God often choose to communicate through our brothers and sisters in the Body of Christ? It is good theology to assert that a genuine word of appreciation from a fellow Christian is also an expression of pleasure from God. We all need to hear the words, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant.’ (Matt. 25:21)
  •  Second, saying ‘thank you’ is a healthy expression of our inter-dependence with other people. … Our natural sinful tendency is to see ourselves in disproportion as the center of our own little universe, everything revolving around us. A heartfelt ‘thank you’ can readjust that whole skewed, self-centered way of looking at things, as we realize that we cannot take anyone for granted. Each person in our life is essential to us.
  • Third – and most important – saying ‘thank you’ is an expression of our dependence upon God. (I believe this is what the soloist was trying to tell me that Sunday after the service, although I don’t like how she rules out our thanking one another.) The fact is that any good you and I do is the result of God’s direct or indirect action in us. And so, when I thank you for something, I am reminding both you and myself that it is in God that ‘we live and move and have our being.’ (Acts 17:28)"
So, as my dad put it, “thank-yous are in order often and all around.” I'll start by thanking you for your interest in this blog. Happy Thanksgiving, friends!

From: "On Saying 'Thank You'"
Scripture: Philippians 1:3-11

Thursday, November 13, 2014

Like or Unlike

Scrolling through my news feed on Facebook, I spotted the post. A friend (of both the real-world and Facebook varieties) had written: "Most people don't know the difference between those they don't like and those who are their enemies. It is a lesson worth learning." Wondering about that distinction, I thought of its implications for the famous teaching of Jesus that we are to love our enemies. I wrote a comment to the post asking, "So if  I love my enemies, may I keep a lengthy list of folks I just don't like?"


As Christians, we know that we shouldn't keep an "enemies list." But we don't see much harm in keeping a list of those who annoy us, those who push our buttons, those whom we would just as soon avoid ... even within the Church. My father addressed this very issue in a sermon called "Walk in Love." Here's what he had to say:  

“There is a modern proverb going around in the Church which I’ve used and which I’ve heard used quite often. It goes like this: ‘A Christian loves everyone, but he doesn’t have to like everyone.’ There’s a certain degree of truth to that maxim, because feelings-wise it is true that we are more drawn to some people than to others. The problem is not with what the maxim says, but with why we use it, and how we use it to justify our treatment of others whom we are supposed to love (‘in Christ’) but whom we do not like. Quite often this kind of thinking gives us a loophole from having to treat them warmly and kindly. Quite often it justifies our avoiding people in the Church we don’t like or just treating them with formal politeness when we can’t avoid bumping into them.”

“What is Christian love for a person you don’t particularly like? Is it just peaceful co-existence in a forever-chilly atmosphere? Or is it striving to like them, always starting out fresh with every meeting of that person – ready and open to befriend them?”

“What should concern us is the hardened stance we take toward some people who rub us the wrong way – as though it is carved in stone that forever we shall be on foul terms with them. ‘I just can’t stand him and I never will!’ There’s no room for this kind of bullheadedness in the Christian fellowship. We certainly have these kinds of feelings about some people, but we should never accept these feelings and allow ourselves to feel comfortable with them.”

“What do you do about someone in the Body you don’t care for? Do you try to stay out of his way? Ephesians 4:31-32 says, ‘Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another …’ Notice it doesn’t say, bestow your warmth only on those you feel warm to. It assumes that warmth will flow between everyone in the fellowship.”

“But someone may say, isn’t that hypocritical? Acting kindly to someone you don’t feel kindly to? You know, it’s amazing how acting like you have positive regard for someone will eventually lead you to have positive regard for them. We usually think that behavior follows feelings. We behave as we feel; that is true. But it is also a sound psychological and spiritual principle that feelings follow behavior; we feel as we behave.”

“I remember one time moving into a community to minister where another pastor was already located toward whom I had quite negative feelings. But there I was, and I had to work with the man for the cause of Jesus Christ in that community, and so I resolved to do so in a warm, positive way. This I did, and as time passed I found my feelings changing, my dislike for the man falling away, and I came to have high regard for his style of ministry. A genuine, spontaneous friendship developed between us. It is a friendship I will always treasure because it was not always so, and it is one I had to work at.”

“No, it is not hypocrisy to say a good word or do a kind act for a brother or sister toward whom you feel negatively. At the very least, these things keep the wheels of the fellowship greased and promote harmony in the body. But at the very most, they chip away at your prejudices and feelings of dislike and give you a new understanding of, if not a new warmth for, your brother or sister. Such action is not hypocrisy if the whole aim is to promote the fellowship and to build new bridges where others were torn down or never existed.”


“‘Walk in love,’ says the author of Ephesians. This is very sound moral advice, but it remains just that – dead and hollow advice – unless we have help from beyond ourselves to put it into effect. We are to ‘walk in love’ as Christ ‘loved us and gave himself up for us.’ (Eph. 5:2) What enables me to walk in love with brothers and sisters whom I might not ordinarily choose to walk with? It is the realization that, … although I was hopelessly wrapped up in myself and oblivious to God and God’s way, God nevertheless acted in love for me. God sent his Son to die on the cross in my place. God forgave me. God forgives me again and again. There is power in your life when you accept this tremendous love of God’s. There is power that enables you to walk in love with your brothers and sisters. Open your heart to the kind, tenderhearted, forgiving Spirit of God. If you do, you will become kind, tenderhearted, and forgiving, as God in Christ forgave you.”

Perhaps it's time to tear up that list.

From: "Walk in Love"
Scripture: Ephesians 4:30 - 5:2

Saturday, November 8, 2014

Welcoming The Stranger

When was the last time you were a stranger? For me, it wasn’t so long ago. This past June, my family sold our home, packed up all our earthly belongings, and moved for my wife’s job. Dorry and I had lived in the North Wales area for most of our married life. Our kids, now 18 and 20, had never called any other town home. It’s tough to move. There’s a lot of work involved, disruptions left and right, inevitable frustrations; but perhaps the hardest part is becoming a stranger in a new and unfamiliar community.

My dad once observed in a sermon that “[i]t can be a terrible experience to be a stranger [because] we are meant to live in community, in fellowship with one another.” Dad went on: “Forever etched in my memory are the few trips I took with a committee from my church in summer of 1975 to Fort Indiantown Gap, where thousands of strangers to our shores from Vietnam waited for someone to come and sponsor them so that they could leave the camp and begin their lives over again. I will never forget the longing eyes following us as we walked to the interview center, hundreds of people watching, hoping that we would be the ones to make them strangers no more. And then later, as the family assigned to us came into the crowded room, I watched their fearful, searching eyes as they came to greet us, eyes that said, ‘I am a stranger, stripped of all I need to survive. Will you welcome me and help me to live again?’”

I have childhood memories of that refugee family, and the great work that Grace United Methodist Church did to welcome them to their new home in Millersville, Pennsylvania. That family’s experience as strangers makes my recent move seem tame by comparison. I didn’t come here from a war-torn country on the other side of the globe. I’m just a Newcomer in Newtown. But what the Newcomer family has in common with that refugee family is that we both were welcomed into a church – the Body of Christ – with open arms on our arrival.

As a pastor, my father moved our family a number of times. Speaking of his own experience as a stranger, Dad observed that “the warmth and love and support of the Christian fellowship that I’ve so enjoyed, none of them are mine because I deserve them; and so, I cannot ever take them for granted. God gives them to me daily just because God loves me and for no other reason. When I remember that once I was a stranger to him and to his Body, and then, through others, he took me and taught me and forgave me and enfolded me, then I know that I must always have a special place in my heart for the stranger. For, in the spiritual sense, I once was a stranger in the strange land of Egypt." 

In the Parable of the Last Judgment, we learn that "when we welcome the stranger, we welcome Christ." "Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me." (Matthew 25:40 (NIV)).  "Welcoming the stranger … is a blessed service given to every Christian that springs out of the very nature of our experience with Jesus Christ. ... Only as we give daily water to the thirsty, food to the hungry, visit the sick, and welcome the stranger do we know what it means to live in fellowship with him. Jesus numbers himself among the strangers to this world. He is one of them. That is where he has placed himself, and if we want to be one with Jesus, we must join him there.”

As I write this post, I am in Duck, North Carolina on a retreat with some new friends – men of the Newtown United Methodist Church:
Joe, David, Dave, Rich & Bob 
These men, and so many others at our new church home, have welcomed me and my family into their community of faith with open arms. Thanks to them, and the Lord they serve, we may be Newcomers, but we are strangers no more.

From: “I Was A Stranger”
Scripture: Matthew 25:31-46