Ps 85

4 December 2005

2nd Sunday of Advent

“Make Some Noise!”

            A couple of weeks ago tomorrow, a proposal was made that we go out to eat.  I suggested Subway; I thought maybe one of their chicken and bacon subs would do the trick.  It turns out that we did go to Subway, though not the one closest to our house.  No, we went to the one at the Chautauqua Mall food court.  How convenient…for purposes completely unrelated to dinner!

            One of those purposes included a visit to Bath and Body Works.  Upon entering the store, I noticed a number of things.  One’s nose is treated to a delightful mixture of aromas; it’s like being in a garden.  But then, I noticed something else.  It was the music coming from the sound system in their ceiling.  A male voice, accompanied by some rather nondescript music, was singing, “It’s Christmas time!”  I informed Banu that the song they were playing was a lie.  We were there before Advent had even begun.  We were there before Thanksgiving had even come!

            Something else I noticed was placed on the wall behind the checkout counter.  There was a Christmas tree-shaped display of phrases set in various type styles.  Two of them especially caught my attention:  “pampering yourself” and “random acts of bling.”  For those who may not know, “bling” could be defined as “ostentatious ornamentation.”  That fits nicely with our Book of Order’s description of the Reformed tradition, one of its themes being, “A faithful stewardship that shuns ostentation and seeks proper use of the gifts of God’s creation” (G-2.0500a(3)).

Anyway, I told Banu that this really captures the essence of Christmas.  We’re to pamper ourselves with random acts of bling.  It’s the reason for the season!  (It kind of…gets me all choked up inside!)

            Of course, we are in the season of Advent.  Charles Moore (no relation to me that I’m aware of!) has said, “Though Advent (literally ‘arrival’) has been observed for centuries as a time to contemplate Christ's birth, most people today acknowledge it only with a blank look.”[1]

            I know what he means.  Ol’ Charley tends to get blank looks when he talks about Advent.  I’ve gotten the same reaction—and sometimes what I can only describe as irritation, even hostility.  He goes on, “For the vast majority of us, December flies by in a flurry of activities, and what is called ‘the holiday season’ turns out to be the most stressful time of the year.”

            Here’s something I’d like us to mull over.  Think about the way our society celebrates Christmas—and what does that say about Christ?  And do we in the church approach Christmas in a way that is significantly different?  Do we not have our own voice?

Some might say that this is much ado about nothing, a tempest in a teapot.  But for those of us who wish to experience the genuineness of Christmas, defying our culture’s demand that we spend ungodly amounts of money on junk is a real challenge.  It’s true!  An actual observation of Advent in America is counter-cultural.

            Compared with a sincere expectation of the coming of Christ, the arrival of God, the charms of the credit cards are quite hollow and bogus.  Jesus flatly says in Matthew 6:24, “You cannot serve God and wealth.”  How often do we still try to do that?

            Our friend Charles Moore paraphrases Dietrich Bonhoeffer in saying that “God’s coming is not only a matter of glad tidings but, first of all, ‘frightening news for everyone who has a conscience.’”[2]  I pray that the conscience of all of us, and first of all mine, will be stirred up.

            He continues, “The love that descended to Bethlehem is not the easy sympathy of [‘Uncle God’], but a burning fire whose light chases away every shadow, floods every corner, and turns midnight into noon.  This love reveals sin and overcomes it.”  Referring to the Song of Mary in Luke 1, “It conquers darkness with such forcefulness and intensity that it scatters the proud, humbles the mighty, feeds the hungry, and sends the rich away empty-handed” (vv. 51-53).

            In October, you may recall, Banu and I went to the oblate commitment service at the Benedictine monastery in Erie.  The prioress, Sister Christine Vladimiroff, said something that I found compelling, and I wrote it down in my worship booklet.  It was this:  “May the light of Christ burn and sear your hearts.”

            We usually picture the light of Christ as something to guide us on our path, like a candle shining in the darkness.  But sometimes we need a different kind of light.  Sometimes we need the light that glows from a branding iron—to cauterize our wounds and stop the bleeding.  That too, is the light of Christ.  We also need that light during our Advent journey—in order to welcome the coming of God.

            Our epistle reading in Hebrews 13 (vv. 1-3) isn’t the one for the 2nd Sunday of Advent.  It was chosen in view of the fact that this Saturday, the 10th, is Human Rights Day.  That marks the date in 1948 when the US joined with 47 other countries in the fledgling United Nations to adopt the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.  The writer of Hebrews speaks of remembering those in prison and those being tortured.  That’s especially important today.

            In October, a bill submitted by Senator John McCain that would ban “cruel, inhuman or degrading” techniques of interrogation passed the Senate by a 90 to 9 vote.  The president and vice president have strongly opposed this measure.  McCain, not exactly a left wing radical, defended his position in an article published in Newsweek last month.  This comes from a man who actually fought in Vietnam and was himself tortured.

            Okay, I’ll admit that I sometimes watch the show 24.  And it’s true that Kiefer Sutherland as agent Jack Bauer of the Counter-Terrorism Unit has used methods that McCain’s bill would prohibit.  And I also know—from those who work in that field—that torture is an unreliable procedure.  People will say almost anything to make the pain stop, whether it’s true or not.

            But I also know that 24 is fiction!  How else can you explain a guy who continues to function for 24 hours straight, despite getting beat up, shot, involved in car wrecks—without a wink of sleep and, apparently, without a bathroom break?

            Senator McCain confirms the findings of the human rights community.  He notes, “I was once physically coerced to provide…the names of the members of my flight squadron…I gave them the names of the Green Bay Packers’ offensive line, knowing that providing false information was sufficient to suspend the abuse.  It seems probable to me that the terrorists we interrogate, under less than humane standards of treatment, are also likely to resort to deceptive answers, [answers] that are perhaps less provably false than that which I once offered.”[3]  Given our fairly widespread ignorance about Arabic language and culture, I would guess he’s probably right.

McCain then shifts his focus.  “Until about 1970, North Vietnam ignored its obligations not to mistreat the Americans they held prisoner, claiming that we were engaged in an unlawful war against them and thus not entitled to the protections of the Geneva Conventions.”[4]  You know, I’m sure glad we’re not trying to weasel out of any treaties we’ve signed!

McCain sums up his feelings this way:  “The mistreatment of prisoners harms us more than our enemies.”[5]  He’s talking about our standing in the world.  Once upon a time, America was praised all over the globe as a defender of human rights.  Forgive me for expressing my opinion, but I think it’s a tragedy that we have sunk this far.  When America tries to justify torture, what does that say to dictators all over the world?  What does that say to their victims?

            Whatever you think of John McCain (and he is one who seems to enjoy the limelight), he approaches the question from a largely political perspective.  For me, the much more compelling perspective is the one of faith.  The epistle reading in Hebrews 13, which speaks of mutual love and hospitality, casts its own light on the matter.

            Today’s psalm, the 85th psalm, shows us how God deals with those delivered from trouble.  It’s possible that the psalmist is speaking of those who’ve been brought back from exile in Babylon.  Whatever the case, our narrator gives thanks for God’s action on their behalf.

            The middle part of the psalm recognizes that God’s anger has been shown.  Our lectionary reading actually omits that section.  Here’s another case of the lectionary compilers getting squeamish over a troublesome part of the text.  But we do ourselves no favor by pretending that it’s not there.  When we try to wish away God’s anger at injustice, in a way, we unconsciously give ourselves permission to do the same.

            An injustice of which most of us are guilty (myself definitely included) is silence in the face of atrocity, refusing to be a voice for the voiceless.  It need not be just those who are in prison or being tortured.  For example, our bulletin insert for the Christmas Joy Offering tells the story of Janell Aldridge, the wife of a minister who suffered from Alzheimer’s disease.  Despite advances in awareness of Alzheimer’s in recent years, much remains to be done in terms of support for families who deal with it.

            If Psalm 85 ended right there, acknowledging God’s anger, it probably wouldn’t be terribly helpful or inspiring.  The good news is that that isn’t God’s vision for us or for the world.  The psalmist continues in verse 8, “Let me hear what God the Lord will speak, for he will speak peace to his people, to his faithful, to those who turn to him in their hearts.”  There’s an alternate reading for that last line:  “but let them not turn back to folly.”  Turning to God and holding on to foolishness are contradictory propositions.

            The crowning glory of the psalm comes in verses 10 and 11:  “Steadfast love and faithfulness will meet; righteousness and peace will kiss each other.  Faithfulness will spring up from the ground, and righteousness will look down from the sky.”  These qualities of God’s vision for planet Earth are personified.  They’re presented as living beings.

            How does this come about?  What is our role in making it happen?  An excellent guide would be the one who, more than anyone else, is the very embodiment of Advent:  John the Baptist.  Our gospel reading in Mark (1:1-8) presents John in the tradition of Isaiah as “the voice of one crying out in the wilderness:  ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight’” (v. 3).  We must be willing to make some noise!

            One way we can do that, keeping in mind that this Saturday is Human Rights Day, is by sending cards to people who are prisoners of conscience.  This coming weekend, people all over the world will be participating in Amnesty International’s fourth annual Write-a-thon.  This year's Write-a-thon is dedicated to the memory of Peter Benenson, the kindly-faced old man whose photo is on the back of our worship bulletin.

Many will be writing letters and sending emails to government officials on behalf of prisoners.  I’ve selected two individuals who can receive cards from us some time during the Christmas season.  Their pictures and stories are on page 10 of our bulletin.  Helen Berhane is but one of hundreds of Christians who have been arrested by the Eritrean government for worshipping without its official recognition.  Rev. Gérard Jean-Juste is guilty of criticizing the Haitian government.

So, I invite you to join me in signing their cards and letting our sister and brother in Christ know that they haven’t been forgotten.

Friends, I invite you to join me during this Advent season in making some noise, in whatever way God leads you.  Remember this:  “If the essence of Advent is expectancy, it is also readiness for action:  watchfulness for every opening, and willingness to risk everything for freedom and a new beginning.”[6]

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