This Sunday is the 4th in Advent.  We’re almost there.  The waiting is almost over…

And yet the lectionary has us at Gabriel telling Mary she’s going to have a child.  It’s as though they don’t want us to get to the birth.

Perhaps all this waiting is important.

Perhaps we’re meant to hang around for a while longer…

wondering…

wishing…

watching…

It’ll be here.  Soon enough.

Or maybe too soon for some.

This week’s sermon almost didn’t happen.  I was really busy and thinking about simply rehashing last week’s offering.  But as I started to rework it I deleted it and started again.  And I’m glad I did.  As usual your comments, reactions and thoughts are most welcome.

This sermon was preached on 14 December, the 3rd Sunday in Advent, at Hamilton United Reformed Church.

A sneaky peek at Sunday’s sermon…

Because of the way we arrange the Christmas story we sometimes forget that John and Jesus are the same age.  Remember John is Jesus’ cousin.  His mother is Elizabeth who was pregnant around the same time as Mary.  When John talks about scanning the crowds he’s looking for a fully-grown Jesus.  He’s not talking about a baby in a stable.  He’s talking about the Messiah, coming, now.

John’s father was Zachariah, the priest.  That means that John would be destined for the priesthood and yet we find him in a very different priestly role.  The holy man not in the synagogue or the temple but out in the wild.

This is our first clue about this Messiah John is raving about.  Jesus isn’t going to be religious in the conventional sense.

But then conventional is never astonishing is it?  Conventional means tried and tested.  Conventional means agreed on, decided, settled.  And that doesn’t seem to describe Jesus to me.  At all.

It’s getting closer.  This Christmas thing.

Stuck for ideas for gifts?  Want to buy your loved one an iPod but feeling a little bit guilty?  Want to help make the world a better place?

could be the answer.  There are a growing list of great (RED) products available.  You buy the (RED) product and money goes to AIDS work in Africa.  Sounds simple.  It is.  So what can you buy?

Dell laptops, Apple iPods, GAP t-shirts, Converse shoes, Armani fragrances, Windows Vista, Hallmark Cards… Everything you could ever want for Christmas.

Go shop for (RED) stuff this Christmas.

Join the Advent Conspiracy!  Give your presence this Christmas!

When The Song of Angels Is Stilled –  Howard Thurman

When the song of the angels is stilled,
When the star in the sky is gone,
When the kings and the princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flocks,
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 people,
To make music in the heart.

HT Sue

I’ve had two conversations in the last couple of days about ‘depth’.  Then I came across this brilliant cartoon from Jon Birch on ASBO Jesus:

I often wonder if people who turn up at church on Sundays are looking for depth.  The two people I was talking to (separately) took different sides.  One said that people, especially at Christmas, are looking for something cheerful and bright.  They don’t want to be challenged or made to think too deeply.

The other person was suggesting that depth is what we all desire but we seem happy to live what he called ‘laminate’ lives.  We all want to be an oak tree with substance, solidity and deep roots but seem happy to settle for having a real wood veneer applied to our chipboard lives.

I’m not sure that the two conversations were completely opposite.  I think the first was observing the outcome of the second, perhaps without looking behind how people present.

The think is growing roots and becoming that mighty oak takes time.  It takes effort.  Moving from the shallows to the deep end is risky and dangerous.  In our risk averse world we would rather paddle than swim because we stay in control.  Those of us charged with leading, whether in worship or in learning, must offer people the chance to dive in and to swim in the ocean of God.

I don’t like shallow and I want to be a tree.  I want to grow and change and bear fruit.  And I want to provide some depth for others.  If the church has become a place of veneer and shallowness then perhaps that is why people find it less than engaging.  And deep doesn’t mean academic or high brow.  It means spiritual, connected and meaningful.

If the Christmas story isn’t a deep one then I don’t know what is.  Let’s not make it all cosy and sterile and shallow.  Let’s glory in the fact that God chose to come and live among us, in poverty, humility and depth.