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Between Turkey and Tinsel Luke 1:68-79 Introduction to the Scripture: The birth of John the Baptizer is full of wonder, mystery and prophecy. All the circumstances around this birth clearly say to the reader: This is no ordinary baby. Like Abraham and Sarah, John's parents Elizabeth and Zechariah, are old and barren. An angel announces the birth, Zechariah is struck speechless until the portion of our scripture we will read together in a moment. Elizabeth turns out to be Mary's kinswoman and they spend time together during their shared mysterious and miraculous pregnancies. This portion of scripture we are about to read is Zechariah's blessing song at the birth of his son John. It is traditionally called the Benedictus for the first word in Latin, his first word after nine months of silence - blessed. Interpreters have debated the origins of this hymn of praise. It draws on the writing found in books of the prophets Malachi and Isaiah and perhaps from a traditional Jewish psalm. And while we are to hear the words as prophecy about John - the one who prepares the way for Jesus - these words might well be applied to Jesus too. All the mysterious happenings, the high words of prophecy, the oaths and deliverance and forgiveness and preparation culminate in the beauty and hope of the promise in the last sentence of this reading. Let us read and hear with wonder and awe. Please open your hymnal to number 137. Carolyn will read the lighter type and we will respond by reading the bold type. Well, here we are between Thanksgiving and Advent. - between turkey and tinsel - the season of leftovers. Some folks in town don't know we're between seasons. Maybe you're one of them. Their yards are full of Christmas decorations and some even have already put up their Christmas trees! Personally, I like this little bit of "between time." I'm still enjoying that vat of mashed potatoes I made Thursday! I'm not thinking about Christmas Cards or Christmas Cookies or even Christmas decorations yet. Often the first Sunday of Advent falls on this Sunday, the Sunday following Thanksgiving, and frankly I am never ready for it. Last year and this year we have this "luxury Sunday," this "bonus Sunday," this "in between Sunday." For this I am thankful. Our scripture comes from a "between" time. It is between the promise of freedom for God's people and the actual liberation. It is between the promise that tiny infant called John, child of Elizabeth and Zechariah will be a prophet of the Most High, preparing the way for God's salvation and forgiveness. . It is between the promise of a messiah and the coming of that messiah. It is between the promise that, By the tender compassion of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace and truly experiencing that peace. Between . . . between this and that. It's not always easy living between times or things or people or events. That cliche stuck between a rock and a hard place reminds us that not only can it be hard in the in between, but the two choices on either side can be equally unappealing. Even more ominous is the old saying - especially for all you boaters and sailors among us between the devil and the deep blue sea. One of the most difficult betweens is between the time you have a medical test, especially if it is for cancer or heart problems, and the time when you get the results back. Sometimes being in that in between time is so excruciating that people say they'd rather have bad news than no news just so they could get on with dealing with whatever the illness turns out to be. Every one of us is stuck in the middle of another one of those excruciating in between times, and I'm sorry to say it is not going to end anytime soon . . . we are between now and the primaries and then we'll be between the primaries and the election. Ah, this in between time can seem like time is standing still! Other between times are full of goodness and joy. There are those times between family crises. There are beautiful between times. The exquisite beauty between darkness and dawn. The time between the seasons as fall's glorious colors give way to winter's quiet and snow. The time between successfully finishing a huge project and having to start the next one. And there are between times that are a crazy mix of many feelings. Ask Jason and Michele Hochstein or any parent about that time between finding out about the pregnancy and the birth of the baby. A time of anticipation, anxiety, joy, expectancy, worry, and excitement. And this brings us to another characteristic of some in between times which is really paradoxical in a way: you can't do anything to change the in between and at the same time, you can! You can't rush the time it takes for that baby to grow in utero . . . you cannot rush that time. At the same time, you can take care of yourself in between, you can prepare your house and your heart for this new soul who will shortly burst in on your lives. So while we wait in the space between God's promise to bring justice to the poor and oppressed, while we wait for war to cease and peace to come, while we wait for our children to find themselves, or our grandchildren to learn they are loved, while we wait for our loved one to be healed from disease of the body or mind, while we sit in the time between knowing help is available and having our friend or family member with an addiction seek that help, as we wait and pray and worry and hope, there is a sense in which we must live in between passively, and a sense in which we must live in between with passionate activity. Living in the in between times means living in the middle of the paradox of acceptance and activity, of knowing that peace will not come quickly and knowing that we must do everything we can to live as peacemakers. And really, this idea of between times is very much a part of the big picture, what we might call our macro story, the whole overarching sense of what life is all about. We constantly live between life and death, between hope and fulfillment, between the reign of God that is here but not completely here yet. We live between the birth and the resurrection, between the past and the future, between the age we are now and what we will be on our next birthday, between lunch and dinner. Many of you know that Ralph and I have been part of a series of retreats based on the work and writings of Parker Palmer. One of the phrases that was used at each retreat was this: When the going gets difficult, turn to wonder. What they meant by that phrase was, when things are hard and you can't figure out something, turn to curiosity, turn to asking questions, such as "I wonder why I feel this way about that," or "I wonder what would motivate someone to act like that" or "I wonder how God might still be working in this dismal situation." Sounds like a good advice, doesn't it? Well, I somehow missed that explanation and I took it to mean: turn to wonder, turn to that feeling of surprise when something beautiful or unexpected or remarkable, or awesome happens. When the going gets difficult, turn to wonder, turn to that which takes you beyond yourself to that feeling deep in your heart that makes you sigh or cry or praise or sing. Now I think both ways of viewing this are good! And they both help me in the in between times, especially if those times are difficult or painful or anxious or discouraging. If you get an email from Vivian Hazell, you'll see a great quotation by her signature, it's from the singer John Prine, "Keep your head full hope and your heart full of wonder." (Repeat) The in between times are really the only times aren't they. The in between times are the now and that is all we really have. And I believe God is sometimes the most real in the between times, most present in the times between this and that, in the waiting and the hoping, in the longing and the worry. God is right smack in the middle, in the between. To live in the in between time, it is hope that we must have and hold and nurture and cherish. It is in the between times that life is rich and real. They are like the pauses in poetry or good story telling or great jokes. It's really about the pauses there, without them the poetry doesn't sing, the story has no power and the jokes, well, the jokes, without the pauses just aren't funny. And I find in music a metaphor for the between times. A traditional composition starts in one key, and then it may wander to and through other keys, making us long for a return to the home key. Yet what makes the composition interesting is the wandering in between, the tension, the mystery, the dissonance, and the longing. [See Jeremy Begbie's article, Sound Theology in the November 13, 2007, issue of The Christian Century.] In between, we can resort to wonder, "I wonder what this composer had in mind." In between we can resort to wonder, "I am amazed at the beauty and complexity of this music," all the while I am looking forward to how it will build and then end in strength and resolution. Musical composition as metaphor for life! What shall we do in the between times? Let us look around and ahead with heads full of hope and hearts full of wonder. Resort to hope. Resort to wonder. Resort to the God of hope and wonder, the God of the in between times. Let us sing with Zechariah, let our hearts soar with the hope that formed the song in his heart and on his lips, In the tender compassion of our God, the dawn from on high shall break upon us, to shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death and to guide our feet into the way of peace. Amen. |
