A Little Advent Honesty

Revelation 22:1-6

When I turned 40 a year and a half ago, Stephanie organized a party of our friends for me.  We made reservations for about 15 of us at a tiny little restaurant called “La Belle” that our friend Shaun had just opened.  And our friends came.  And Shaun went out of his way to make us great food, and even did a few little extra courses for us.  And we all talked and laughed together around that table. 

There was only one problem.  I didn’t want to be there.  I knew Steph had gone to considerable trouble to arrange all this.  I knew my friends had to make space on their calendars and get babysitters to join us.  But I didn’t want to be there.  I went, but I didn’t want to be there.  The truth is, I didn’t feel like celebrating. 

I won’t go into great detail here, but I wasn’t excited to be getting older.  The older I get, the more trouble I have staying physically healthy.

I remember a football game my friends organized in Central Park one Saturday afternoon.  These were all pretty competitive chaps, most were in their twenties or early 30’s, and pretty good athletes.  And not five minutes into the game I pulled a hamstring and had to hobble home.  Do you realize how humbling it is to have to bow out of a friendly Saturday afternoon football game with the guys because of an injury?

Not long after that I was getting dressed in the morning.  I was in a hurry.  And I sat on my bed to tie my shoes.  I swung one leg up in order to tie my shoe and something shifted in my lower back.  It was the strangest feeling. I stood up, and my back went into the most painful spasms I have ever experienced.  I had to crawl around the apartment on my hands and knees that day because I couldn’t stand up.  I couldn’t leave the house for three days and when I did I had to wear a back brace for support.

No, I wasn’t happy to be turning 40.  There was nothing good about it, as far as I could see.  Everyone else was ready to celebrate, laugh, sing, and give gifts.  But I didn’t want to be there.

Here we are, it’s December 12.  Christmas is less than two weeks away.  The holiday season is in full swing – parades, parties, gift-buying, plans for get-togethers with friends and family.  And in all this holiday activity there is the undercurrent that we should be ENJOYING all this!  This is the season of JOY!  “Joy to the World” is what we sing.  “Merry Christmas” is what we say to one another. 

But not everyone feels like celebrating.  We feel almost strange admitting it, but some of us are dreading having to act like we’re full of joy at this point in our lives.

Some of us have lost loved ones recently, and are heading into the Christmas season with heavy hearts. 

Some of us have lost children, and we wish they were with us.  Some of us have children that have moved away, and we’re missing them.

Some of us have had difficult years in terms of health issues.  We’ve had to deal with cancer treatments, or long term sickness, or a lack of energy.

Some of us are frustrated because we cannot find work.  Or perhaps we’re working in a job we don’t like and wish we could make a change.

Some of us are in difficult marriages, or difficult friendships.  And it’s not clear that there’s any simple solution.

Some of us are lonely, or depressed, or feeling left out, and sometimes we don’t even know why.

The whole point of this service tonight is that there should be at least a half hour during this season when we’re allowed to be really honest about how we feel.  We’re here with one another, and before God, so that we can give voice to our grief, our frustration, our disappointment, and our pain in the midst of this season that is supposed to be so full of cheer. 

It can seem at times like you’re the only one who doesn’t feel in the mood to celebrate.  It can feel like you’re the oddball – everyone else looks happy.  “Is something wrong with me?” we might ask.  “Why can’t I just join in with everyone else and catch the joyous spirit of Christmas?”

This passage we heard from Revelation 22 is strange.  I hope it’s ok just to say that directly.  This passage is John’s description of a dream or vision he was given by God’s Spirit.  And believe me, I’ve had some strange dreams where things don’t quite make sense.  But this is a pretty bizarre scene.

He sees a river.  But it’s a weird river.  It’s a river flowing from God’s throne down the middle of the central street in Jerusalem.  That’s not normally where rivers flow.  We just saw rivers flowing down streets during Hurricane Sandy, and that was a mess.

On both sides of this river he sees trees.  These trees are watered by the river, so their output is prolific.  They yield fruit every month, twelve times a year.  What abundance and fertility!  And the leaves of the tree are “for the healing of the nations.” 

Next he sees God’s throne, right there in the middle of the city and its people.  Now this is odd.  Most kings have thrones in palaces or castles that are protected behind a gate, guarded by soldiers.  Our own president lives in the White House, under constant surveillance, behind that wrought-iron fence.  But in John’s vision God’s servants can finally see God’s face.  And God’s face is full of light.  There is so much light shining from God’s throne that there is no need for any other light.  No need for a lamp.  No need for the sun.  God is all light.  There is no more night here.

But the strangest thing about this vision is what John mentions in verse 3: “No longer will there be any curse.”  Here is a dream about the ending of a curse.  What curse?  Well, the curse we all live with every single day.  The curse of not quite feeling at home.  The curse of pain and difficulty.  The curse of fragile bodies that are prone to sickness, to injury, to cancer, and to failure as we age.  The curse of the stress of earning a living and making ends meet.  The curse of the effort it takes to get along with those we love and those we don’t.  The curse of living with regret and disappointment.

If you remember, the opening story of the Bible is the story of a curse.  Adam and Eve bent themselves away from God’s goodness.  They, like us, weren’t quite able to trust that God wanted what’s best for them.  And as a result they were exiled from their home in the garden, sent out from a life of satisfaction and forbidden to return by an angel standing guard with a flaming sword.  And we live with their curse.

The dream of John in Revelation 22 is not a description of life as we now experience it.  It’s a dream about the promised hope of life with God that is not yet ours.  The life we experience now is life under the curse.

I really do believe there is joy available to us as we welcome God’s Son into the world this Advent season.  But this joy does not magically make us feel better.  The Christmas season is not a time for us to pretend that everything is ok.  We don’t have to pretend to smile.  It’s a time for honesty about the difficulty of life, even a life of trusting the God who has come to us in Jesus of Nazareth.

This baby, born to Mary, is the one who comes to share the curse with us.  He does not lift us out of the curse.  He comes to live in it with us.  And the good news is that in the middle of our hardship, God is with us, on our side, and promises never to abandon or forsake us.

Just this morning, before we went out the door to school, Remy – our six year old kindergartner - broke a pencil in half, and slammed it on the table by the front door.

I stayed silent for a moment, then I asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m angry,” he said.

And so I said, “Get your act together and get a smile on your face and let’s go to school and I expect you to act like everything’s fine!!!”

No, I didn’t.  I’m capable of saying something like that.  But I didn’t this morning.  Instead, I bent down on my knees so I was on his level, and I said, “What are you angry about?”  And he said, “I don’t know, I’m just angry.”  And I gave him a hug.  And he began to cry.  He cried for a minute, then got a Kleenex.

And I asked, “Are you ready to go to school?”  And he nodded his head, “Yes.”

The good news for us during this holy season is that God does not command us to pretend to feel happy.  God receives us as we are, and comes alongside us as the one who has lived a truly human life in all its height and depth, all its ups and downs, all its pain and sorrow.  God gives us room to feel whatever it is we feel.  And then whenever we’re ready to move forward – but not before – God will go with us.