Carrying Christmas with us

The Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

St. James’s, West Hartford

Christmas Day II

Isaiah 62:6-12, Titus 3:4-7, Luke 2:1-20, Psalm 97

In the name of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen. 

I was having a conversation with a friend recently about the busyness and stress of our respective lives. We talked about how this time between Christmas and New Years when our offices are closed and our email inboxes slow to a steady trickle rather than a daily flood, feels like the eye of the storm. Kids are off from school. There’s time for games and naps or simply lounging on the couch with a good book. There’s an ease and a peacefulness in the daily schedule that seems the polar opposite of our day to day professional lives. We know we will have to return to that life and that world. To the challenges we know are coming and those that will surprise us. 

And yet, I find myself longing to figure out how to carry the joys and the peace of this time with me. It’s just the same way I feel about our liturgy this morning. So often the holidays can feel harried and stressful. Did I get the right gifts? Will the dinner turn out okay? Maybe it wasn’t a good day to try a new recipe? Will everyone get along? What if someone brings up politics or the economy or religion? Will we go home mad at each other? Wait, wait - isn’t Christmas supposed to be about joy and celebration - why do I feel so stressed out? 

And then we come here. To this peaceful sanctuary (and if there are any small children here, know that their presence and their sounds do not disturb that peace, they merely add to the joy). We get to hear and sing beautiful music. We get to hear the familiar Christmas story. We get to be fed in Word and Sacrament. If we let the liturgy wash over us, we can, even if only for a few minutes find that peace that indeed passes understanding. 

And it can be fleeting. Our to do lists. Our anxiety about time with extended family or our sadness at being without those we love today. Or the heaviness of the news headlines. Something. Anything will creep back in and our brains will start going. And before we know it, we are miles down a mental road and the peace is gone. 

How do we hold on to it? Well, I think our Gospel today might have some wisdom for us. Pay attention to the last few lines. The shepherds have come to visit Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. They are in awe - full of wonder and excitement - telling the story of the angels’ appearance to them in the hills. Sharing all the angels said about who Jesus is and why his birth is so significant. And what does Mary do? Note what it says: “Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.” Hmm. Note that it does not say that Mary entertained the shepherds making tea and serving them. Note that it does not say that she debated with them about what the angels said nor did she dismiss their experience because she already knew that truth. No, she treasured the fact that others were affirming what she already knew about the baby in her arms. And she pondered their words in her heart. 

Oh. You mean she focused on the positive? On the gifts and blessings of the moment? You mean she took a few minutes for herself to think quietly? Hmm. For those of us who like to do, who like to be busy and productive and helpful this whole idea of pausing and slowing down and thinking quietly can seem anathema. 

And I am beginning to wonder if there isn’t something to Mary’s behavior that might hold the key to carrying a little of the peace and calm of this morning into the rest of our daily lives. Because no matter what, the demands of our daily lives and the world will come back to us, perhaps even as soon as we walk out the door this morning. 

So, how might we become more like Mary. What would it look like to “ponder something in our hearts”? Notice again that Mary does not get up to do a task nor does she start in on a monologue or a long conversation. It’s just a moment. The story goes on. The shepherds leave, and anyone who has ever been around a newborn baby knows that moments of literal peace and quiet are few and fleeting. 

So, the Gospel is not asking us to completely transform our daily schedules and meditate 10 hours a day. The invitation is to follow Mary’s example. To ponder things in our hearts. To take just a moment to reflect, to be grateful, to focus on the blessings even in the midst of the chaos and flurry of daily life. 

The peace we know in this place, in these days, need not be completely fleeting. We can find it again, for today we celebrate that God has come to dwell with us, to know the fullness of the human experience. So, no matter what the world may throw at us, we need only take a moment to pause and ponder, to remember that the love of God and the peace of God are right there if only our hearts are open to receive it. Amen. 

 

Peace in the midst of chaos

                                 

Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

DFMS Noonday Prayer via Zoom

October 21, 2020

Eph. 3:4-12; Psalm 122; Luke 12:39-48

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Verse 7 of our Psalm for today says, “Peace be within your walls * and quietness within your towers.” Ha! I thought when I read this. Peace? God, you are funny. Home life is slightly organized chaos while we all try to work from home and educate children in the midst of a pandemic. Life in our wider communities seems unstable and worrisome as cases are rising again in so many places, including my own state. Our national life seems to be in turmoil as there is bitter division and deep fears as we approach Election Day. And the whole world is still in the grips of a pandemic.


And that list did not include any of the challenges and difficulties that were around before we went into quarantine, like systemic racism or climate change or the ever widening gap between rich and poor. Peace? Really God, I want to say, You have got to be kidding me. How can we possibly find peace at a time like this.


But blessedly I have some wise people in my life whose voices intervene in moments like these. “Molly,” they say, “Take a deep breath. Pause. Reflect. You are getting yourself in a frantic state that is not actually going to help anything. Remember that story about Mary and Martha? You are doing your Martha thing. Time to find your Mary. Sit. Rest. Trust.” Ah. Right.


And I think of that oft quoted wisdom pictured above.




Oh, I think, maybe that is what God means. “Peace be within our walls” is not about some magical other world where nothing bad happens. It is not about all our present difficulties just disappearing at the snap of a finger. It is about us finding peace in our souls in the midst of it all. It is about us holding on to that peace, that strength, that resilience to get us through this time.




C.S. Lewis writes of this same kind of experience in A Grief Observed. He writes, “When I lay these questions [of why his wife died or why he is suffering] before God I get no answer. But a rather special sort of ‘No answer.’ It is not the locked door. It is more like a silent, certainly not uncompassionate, gaze. As though He shook His head not in refusal but waiving the question. Like, ‘Peace, child; you don’t understand.’”


In the midst of everything that is going in our world, we, like Lewis, are given a gift of peace that we may not fully understand, but here is the important thing for us to remember - it is God's peace. It is bigger than all of us, bigger than the things of the world, bigger than our fear.


It is not a peace of easy answers or simple solutions. It is the peace that comes from letting go. The peace that comes when we stop trying to figure everything out. It is the peace that comes when we choose trust over fear. When we chose love over indifference. When we chose possibility over certainty.


That is what God offers us. A gift of peace. It is not a gift that will always come easily to us. It is far too easy for us to be sucked into the 24 hour news cycle or find ourselves catastrophizing all the what ifs of tomorrow or next week or next year.


And so we need to keep up the practices that help us slow down. That center us. That remind us we are beloved of God and that we can indeed find peace amidst the chaos. We need time for prayer. Time to nourish our bodies. Time for rest. Time for laughter. Time for that which brings us joy. Time for that which restores our souls and connects us to the grace that is the “foundation of everything.”


The world may seem frantic and harried. There are times when it can seem like the fear is going to get the best of us. But it need not. We have a choice. We have an invitation, an opportunity to experience the beautiful gift of knowing the peace of God in our hearts. It is my prayer that in the midst of all the challenges and the struggles of these days we remember that the peace is not contingent on what happens out there. It can always be found in our hearts, when we are connected to God and each other. Amen.