Standing at the Gates
Christmas Eve
8PM Candlelight Service

First Unitarian Church of Des Moines

12/24/02

 

Reading

“Merry Christmas” by Howard Thurman

There is a strange irony in the usual salutation, “Merry Christmas,” when most of the people on this planet are thrown back upon themselves for food which they do not possess, for resources that have long since been exhausted, and for vitality which has already run its course.  Despite this condition, the inescapable fact remains that Christmas symbolizes hope even at a moment when hope seems utterly fantastic.  The raw materials of the Christmas mood are a newborn baby, a family, friendly animals, and labor.  An endless process of births is the perpetual answer of life to the fact of death.  It says that life keeps coming on, keeps seeking to fulfill itself, keeps affirming the margin of hope in the presence of desolation, pestilence and despair.  It is not an accident that the birth rate seems always to increase during times of war, when the formal processes of man are engaged in the destruction of others.  Welling up out of the depths of vast vitality, there is Something at work that is more authentic than the formal, discursive design of the human mind.  As long as this it true ultimately, despair about the human race is groundless.

 

 

Sermon              “Standing at the Gates”

 

A few weeks ago I received an e-mail from Shirley Ragsdale, the religion writer for the Des Moines Register.  She told me that the Register was reconsidering its long-standing tradition of running a quote from New Testament book of Luke as its masthead on Christmas morning.  Apparently some people on the staff were thinking it wasn’t appropriate to be running a Bible passage as a masthead on a Christian holiday when the paper hadn’t been running scripture from other faiths on their holy days.

 

Fair enough, I thought.

 

She asked me if I had an opinion on what they should run. 

 

Instead of the “Christian” masthead, she had suggested that they run an article reporting the birth of Jesus…as though it were a front-page news item.  

 

Interesting idea, I thought…even if it did sound like something the satirical paper The Onion would do.

 

Then came a question that caught me off guard.

 

If she did write this article, she asked, would I be willing to “fact-check” it?

 

Fact-checking the story of Jesus’ birth.

 

Now that would be a complicated assignment…especially for a Unitarian Universalist. Which Gospel reading would I use?  Would I fact-check according to biblical scholarship?  Or would I fact check according to archaeology?  And what about the magical birth stories of other religious traditions?  Would I talk about the string of strange similarities in many of the births of messiah-types throughout time?

 

And, after all, wouldn’t we be missing the point of Christmas if we get too mixed up in “facts.”

 

I finally replied that I appreciated the questions.  I told her that I personally didn’t mind that the Register had been using Christian scripture as the masthead on the 25th.  After all…it was Christmas.  But I did think it was appropriate to take a closer look at the tradition in light of our increasingly pluralistic Central Iowa population.  For lack of a better idea, I suggested they simply print “Merry Christmas.”   

 

And I confessed that if she went with the article approach, I would not be comfortable fact checking for I honestly wouldn’t know where to begin.  Besides, I added, as I understand the story, the birth of Jesus would not have warranted news coverage anyway.  I mean, come on… the kid was born in a stable because no one could spare a room…for a pregnant woman!  Talk about flying underneath the social radar.  Mary, on the verge of giving birth, relegated to the animal’s quarters.

 

Sounds more like an opportunity for a 60 Minutes expose…or at least some cheesy investigative TV news report.  I can see the promos now:

“Coming up at 10…Why was this woman denied a room just hours before giving birth?  You’ll never believe where she had her baby!  Moooo!”

Switch the channel and hear another take:  “Stay tuned to Eyewitness News for the story of a shepherd with an unbelievable tale of the supernatural. [shot of wide-eyed guy saying:  “I was just standing there, out in the field, and the next thing I know there’s all these funny lights and someone was speaking to me…telling me not to be afraid.  It was weird.”] We’ll have a live interview with the man, right after the game.”

 

No, the birth of Jesus was probably not any more newsworthy in his day than it would be now…particularly during this “information” age, a time when negativity and fear sell more papers than possibility and potential.  When the lead stories are more typically focused on the details of harsh reality or future calamity or celebrations of the cult of personality than on the possibility for change and redemption and hope, particularly for those not in the limelight or the privileged class. 

 

For example, it was only a few short weeks ago when the Register featured an extended article, with pictures, about a handful of “pro-war” demonstrators at William Penn University.  Meanwhile, a Saturday afternoon rally and peace march through the streets of Des Moines, which drew hundreds of participants just a few days earlier didn’t get one word of printed coverage…much less a picture.

 

Let’s face it…the arrival of a so-called “Prince of Peace” wouldn’t make for good copy at a time when to be for “peace” is to be perceived as naïve…or wimpy…or deluded…or un-American.

 

Now, I don’t want you to think that my emphasis tonight is on media-bashing.  After all, to verbally beat up the poor folks just trying to earn their keep in the strange world of infotainment is a stale and mostly pointless endeavor. 

 

And, I don’t want our time together tonight to be focused on bashing the policies of our popular president…a president who, I have heard, has recently become quite drawn to Unitarian Universalism.  Yes, apparently he is intrigued by our principle of “Inherited worth and dignity.”

 

Seriously, Christmas is not a time to be bashing anyone, right?  It’s a yearly time to remember the strand of hope that connects us all together, regardless of our politics or our class or our vocation or our circumstances… the hope carried on the waves of our shared breath.

 

What do I mean by “hope?”  I don’t mean hope the verb, which means a wish or an expectation--I hope my team wins… I hope my family gets along tomorrow… I hope we don’t go to war….  The hope that is sometimes just a synonym for blind optimism. I’m talking about hope the noun, which means a feeling…a chance…a possibility.

 

I’m talking about the hope that remains even when it has been buried beneath the rubble of our messy lives…
the hope that remains even when it has been bludgeoned by disappointment and loss…
the hope that remains even when it has been drowned out by the harsh realities of our shared life.

 

The hope that is always there…somewhere inside of us…
no matter how buried or bludgeoned or drowned out. 
The hope implied by the fact that we are alive
and can bring comfort and joy to the lives of others and to this planet that we share.

 

Hope is just a chance…a possibility.

 

This is the hope implied in each and every birth. The hope we share merely by being alive. The hope that, as I see it, is the true meaning of Christmas…because it is the true essence of the message of a great moral teacher named Jesus. 

 

So, in my reply to Shirley Ragsdale, along with my polite decline of her offer to fact-check her Jesus birth announcement, I sent along the words to the Sophia Lyon Fahs reading that Lori shared earlier:  “Each night a child is born is a holy night. A time for singing, a time for wondering, a time for worshipping.”

 

Each child…a blessed manifestation of life.  Each child…a precious creature of possibility.   Each child…worthy of wonder and respect and reverence.

 

What would this world be like if we did revere every birth…every new human life?  What would this world be like if everyone truly believed that each child has inherent worth and dignity…
that each child has a right to an education, and adequate health care, and food…that each child carries a spark of the divine…that each child represents enormous potential waiting to be nurtured and realized? 

 

My guess is that resources would be much more evenly divided…and people would be much more willing to treat each other with kindness and respect…and hope would be triumphant over fear because we would all be making it so.

 

Never happen, you say?

 

Not with that attitude, I reply.

 

Somebody has to stand for hope in this beautiful, crazy, mixed-up, violent world.  Why shouldn’t it be us? 

Why shouldn’t it be you?

 

I’ve heard a mental health professional quoted recently who said that her job was not to “save” people or to “save the world.”  She said, “All I can do—what I am called to do—is to plant myself at the gates of hope.  Sometimes they come in; sometimes they walk by.  But I stand there every day and I call out till my lungs are sore with calling, and beckon and urge them in toward life and love, toward beautiful life, and love.”[1]

 

Planting ourselves at the gates of hope.

 

Sounds like a good mission for any of us, whatever the ministry of our lives, but what does “planting oneself at the gates of hope” look like?  Maybe “planting” is a little tough.  What if we could simply stand at the gates of hope?  Or at least walk by now and then.

 

Just a few months ago, I attended a training led by a community organizer working with AMOS, the Des Moines-area coalition of churches that is working to build relational power and to nurture possibilities for positive change in our metropolitan community.  The organizer said, “I know you may not be able to fully give yourself to this idea yet.  But I encourage you to do your best to fake it for a while.  You never know…you may be opening the door for somebody else who really needs this…and you may be opening the door for yourself.”

 

I imagine that the shepherds from the Christmas story probably heard something similar when the angel appeared to them.  “Fear not” the angel might have said…and even if you are scared or uncertain, ”just do your best to fake it for a while.”  

 

Aren’t we all a little like those shepherds, standing out in the fields of our lives, just minding our own business…or at least trying to…?  When we see the colorful lights and sounds of possibility…possibility for peace or forgiveness or justice or redemption… do we talk ourselves out of what we see? Do we focus instead on all the reasons our hopeful vision must be a mistake or a trick of the intellect? 

 

It’s easy to get discouraged, to believe that our effort will have little impact…particularly when we see our world as something we need to “save.”  Throwing in the towel becomes the safest option. Not trying seems like a better choice than losing.  And we all know how to lose, don’t we? “My little effort won’t do any good,” we say. “Why bother at all?”

 

This resignation to defeat is one way that we deny transformation because we deny potential…in ourselves and in others.  Yes, individually we cannot “save the world.”  Actually to try would probably do more harm than good.  But, as the psychiatrist says, we can be greeters at the gates of hope, standing there proudly and with purpose. And that may be the most effective thing we can do.

 

Standing at the gates…

Even if we sometimes have to fake it. 
Even when the circumstances of our lives keep trying to convince us that to believe in hope is to set ourselves up for crushing disappointment.
Even then, we are called by our very humanity
to stand at the gates of hope,
to live as though our little acts of kindness do make a difference,
to believe that the way we listen,
the way we share,
the way we love,
the way we offer ourselves to this pain-filled, surprising, finite,
boring, lonely, exquisite life is important.

To believe that to be present at the gates of hope

May be all we can do…and that is enough.
 

Reminds me of the story author Sue Monk Kidd shared in her autobiography.  She writes:

 

“When my daughter was small she got the dubious part of the Bethlehem star in a Christmas play.  After her first rehearsal she burst through the door with her costume, a five-pointed star lined in shiny gold tinsel designed to drape over her like a sandwich board. ‘What exactly will you be doing in the play?’ I asked her.

 

‘I just stand there and shine,’ she told me.”

 

I just stand there and shine.

 

What great Christmas advice for each of us.  What great life advice as well. 

 

This Christmas, and in the coming year, and in all the years to come, may each of us find the means, the courage, the strength, even what some would call the sheer idiocy to stand at the gates of hope…to stand there and shine.  We never know who may join us there…and what may develop as a result.

 

After all, somebody has to stand for hope in this beautiful, crazy, mixed-up, violent world.  Why shouldn’t it be us? 

Why shouldn’t it be you?

 

 

Benediction  (Howard Thurman)

When the song of the angels is stilled

When the star in the sky is gone

When the kings and princes are home

When the shepherds are back with their flock

The work of Christmas begins

To find the lost

To heal the broken

To feed the hungry

To release the prisoner

To rebuild the nations

To bring peace among peoples

To make music in the heart

 

 



[1] Quoted in “The Small Work in the Great Work” a sermon by the Rev. Victoria Safford, Birmingham, AL; March 10, 2002.