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| Salvador de Bahía, Brasil |
Rejoice! Proclaim the good news! Prisoners are released, the hungry are fed, the Almighty has done great things! The Spirit of the Lord God is upon you! Rejoice always!
The rising tide of goodness and cheer abounds in the Scriptures, and in the cult of holiday marketing, as we draw ever closer to Christmas. We may find ourselves warmed by the anticipation of holiday parties, family visits, reunions with friends, the end of the semester’s work, and countless other blessings. It is a time to rejoice, in what we have, and in what we hope to receive.
But, wait… let’s be serious for a minute. Not all find cause to rejoice these days. The poor are still with us, as Jesus said they would be, and they’ve become more visible these past few weeks. The scourges of war, violence, and disease continue to plague far too many nations and peoples around the world, from Syria to Ukraine, from Liberia to Mexico, from South Sudan to the Holy Land. The evil of racism has welled to the surface of our national discourse, playing out in deliberations and demonstrations from Ferguson to New York City to Cleveland. How can we rejoice… when the brokenhearted cry out for justice, for peace, for healing, for a day of vindication? What are we to say to them? What are we to do? Is there any joy to be found here?
Do not quench the Spirit, Paul tells us. Test everything; hold on to what is good. Refrain from every kind of evil. This is not done easily, when light and darkness, privilege and prejudice, profit and exploitation twist together so tightly. We need guidance if we are to make straight the way of the Lord. We must look away from shallow joys, empty promises, and veneers of security to hear the voice of one crying out in the desert. Who is that voice? Where is that desert? Are two-thousand-year-old answers still relevant?
Among many signs we’ve seen in our streets these past few months, there are these: “I am Michael Brown.” “I am Eric Garner.” With all due respect, not quite. John tells us: “I am not the Christ.” Who is he? “I am the voice of one crying out in the desert.” Who am I? I am Chris Ryan. Who are you? You are Laura, you are Peter, you are Vanessa, you are Henry. You are the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, a wilderness that has traced a path from the periphery of our consciousness, from the overlooked neighborhoods of our cities, and now cries out to be heard in our communities, in our cities, in our nation, in our world.
In this we can rejoice. God anoints, empowers, and sends each of us to bring glad tidings, healing, and liberty. God does the same for others who might liberate us from the captivity of our ignorance, our distraction, our detachment. The Spirit of the Lord is upon us all, to make straight the way of the Lord. Our collect prayer invited us to celebrate the joys of the Lord’s Nativity “with solemn worship and glad rejoicing.” Far too many people have experienced 2014 as anything but a year of favor from the Lord. Their suffering and pain is grave. The call to genuinely notice and firmly acknowledge the evil visited upon them, and to take up a mantle of justice alongside them, is both a solemn undertaking and a great joy. You have been called to go out to those who cry out. Rejoice in this mission, and believe in the provision of the grace to fulfill it. Delight in the company of those who carry it out with you. Pray for guidance, testify with courage, give thanks with humble delight. Join in the difficult, anguishing, yet hopeful labor of making straight the paths that we have all allowed to become far too crooked. The one who calls you, who calls me, who calls us all, is faithful, and will accomplish it. Rejoice.
The rising tide of goodness and cheer abounds in the Scriptures, and in the cult of holiday marketing, as we draw ever closer to Christmas. We may find ourselves warmed by the anticipation of holiday parties, family visits, reunions with friends, the end of the semester’s work, and countless other blessings. It is a time to rejoice, in what we have, and in what we hope to receive.
But, wait… let’s be serious for a minute. Not all find cause to rejoice these days. The poor are still with us, as Jesus said they would be, and they’ve become more visible these past few weeks. The scourges of war, violence, and disease continue to plague far too many nations and peoples around the world, from Syria to Ukraine, from Liberia to Mexico, from South Sudan to the Holy Land. The evil of racism has welled to the surface of our national discourse, playing out in deliberations and demonstrations from Ferguson to New York City to Cleveland. How can we rejoice… when the brokenhearted cry out for justice, for peace, for healing, for a day of vindication? What are we to say to them? What are we to do? Is there any joy to be found here?
Do not quench the Spirit, Paul tells us. Test everything; hold on to what is good. Refrain from every kind of evil. This is not done easily, when light and darkness, privilege and prejudice, profit and exploitation twist together so tightly. We need guidance if we are to make straight the way of the Lord. We must look away from shallow joys, empty promises, and veneers of security to hear the voice of one crying out in the desert. Who is that voice? Where is that desert? Are two-thousand-year-old answers still relevant?
Among many signs we’ve seen in our streets these past few months, there are these: “I am Michael Brown.” “I am Eric Garner.” With all due respect, not quite. John tells us: “I am not the Christ.” Who is he? “I am the voice of one crying out in the desert.” Who am I? I am Chris Ryan. Who are you? You are Laura, you are Peter, you are Vanessa, you are Henry. You are the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, a wilderness that has traced a path from the periphery of our consciousness, from the overlooked neighborhoods of our cities, and now cries out to be heard in our communities, in our cities, in our nation, in our world.
In this we can rejoice. God anoints, empowers, and sends each of us to bring glad tidings, healing, and liberty. God does the same for others who might liberate us from the captivity of our ignorance, our distraction, our detachment. The Spirit of the Lord is upon us all, to make straight the way of the Lord. Our collect prayer invited us to celebrate the joys of the Lord’s Nativity “with solemn worship and glad rejoicing.” Far too many people have experienced 2014 as anything but a year of favor from the Lord. Their suffering and pain is grave. The call to genuinely notice and firmly acknowledge the evil visited upon them, and to take up a mantle of justice alongside them, is both a solemn undertaking and a great joy. You have been called to go out to those who cry out. Rejoice in this mission, and believe in the provision of the grace to fulfill it. Delight in the company of those who carry it out with you. Pray for guidance, testify with courage, give thanks with humble delight. Join in the difficult, anguishing, yet hopeful labor of making straight the paths that we have all allowed to become far too crooked. The one who calls you, who calls me, who calls us all, is faithful, and will accomplish it. Rejoice.
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