Dear Caldwell,
Even this guy might show up at our Christmas Breakfast Sunday at 9:45 a.m. in Belk Hall. Bring something for the table to complement pancakes and other staples. Most of all, bring yourself and a friend to share in the Spirit of the Season.
As we travel from Sunday to Sunday this week, we remind ourselves we are on the way to Bethlehem (because the world has many other interpretations of what these days are about). As we travel, some loud voices would rather preoccupy our hearts and minds with a new four-letter word – FEAR. Fear of the threats in the world, which some promise to eliminate, though their details are a bit vague.
Focusing on the voices of the prophets on these past few Sundays, we’ve recalled how often God leads with the words, “Do not fear.” Yet, it’s understandable that those to whom God revealed the coming of Christ – Zechariah, Elizabeth, Mary and Joseph – may have felt a little fear at such a wondrous prospect as Emanuel, a God in the flesh, with us.
Frederick Buechner, a wonderful spiritual writer, has this to say (from his book Secrets in the Dark):
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.” The psalm does not pretend that evil and death do not exist. Terrible things happen, and they happen to good people as well as to bad people. Even the paths of righteousness lead through the valley of the shadow. Death lies ahead for all of us, saints and sinners alike, and for all the ones we love. The psalmist doesn’t try to explain evil. He doesn’t try to minimize evil. He simply says he will not fear evil. For all the power that evil has, it doesn’t have the power to make him afraid.
On Sunday, we lit the joy candle, claimed joy and the truth that God is in our midst. We reconsidered the idea of being “radical” as actually being stable, staying rooted. I offered this:
What would radical reception of the Advent promise of a messiah look like?
Perhaps it is one in which we confront and reject the causes of our fear.
Perhaps it is one in which we put our trust in God above all.
Perhaps it is one in which we are animated by hope and courage.
Perhaps a radical reception of the messiah we expect is to stay busy in God’s work, to “not let our hands grow week,” as Zephaniah says in today’s scripture, but also to recommit to humility before our God and each other.
Perhaps it is to claim joy even in the midst of the world’s fear and chaos, not simple, shallow smiley-faced, temporal happiness … but joy that abides, joy rests deep down within us, joy that is not uprooted by change or fear, joy that restores and sustains us, even in our imperfections, joy that knows both trial and triumph.
Those in worship Sunday walked away with their own personal pink Joy candle. I hope you will light it, to push back the darkness of all the fear-mongering around us. It won’t be long before we are reading those words in John 1, about the light that the darkness did not overcome.
Please keep these situations in your prayers:
Yvette Wilson remains in California with family, recovering from a heart attack. She is receiving excellent care and, while she appreciates prayers, requests no correspondence as she rests.
Charlie Brown, recovering from successful knee surgery.
Eric Overcash, and wife Rebecca, on the recent birth of a third grandson in Montana.
Wilma Petty, in grief, requesting our prayers.
Scott Ethridge, and his ailing mother.
Greg Beard, and his ailing mother.
Linda Sluder, whose mother is in Hospice.
Reno Petry.
All those for whom the holidays are difficult.
Those fighting addiction.
Look for Caldwell This Week on Friday.
In Christ,
John