Sermon: Filled With Good Things

Rev. Jennifer Whipple
Congregational Church of Brookfield (UCC)         

Filled With Good Things
Luke 1:39-56

December 16, 2012

NOTE:  This was a letter written to my children after the shootings in Sandy Hook on December 14, 2012. I read it as the "sermon" during our Sunday morning worship two days later.  

My Dear Hearts,

            The last time I wrote you a letter like this one you were inside, kicking remote controls off of my tummy and/or making me sick enough that I had to step out of worship nearly every Sunday AM.  (I guess it’s a good thing that I keep gum in my desk drawer.)  But today is yet another day – certainly one that needs explaining, even though the words don’t come flowing out quite as easily as usual.  As your Mama I felt compelled to write this letter, but with another one of my important hats on, that of pastor, I also struggled with what to say.  What do I say that would make sense out of the senseless, that would offer a word of hope into the middle of a minefield of darkness?       

            I remember talking with Munga on September 11, 2001, and saying to her that I couldn’t imagine bringing children into a world in which someone would make a decision to behave in such a way that so many lives would be taken and changed irreparably and forever.  But 7 years later Daddy & I were sitting in the Birthing Center waiting for the arrival of our first Whipplet.  There are still days when I wonder what right I had bringing you into the world – into a world full of the things of this life – of hurt and war and prejudice and senseless violence?  Then I realized, on a purely selfish level perhaps, the amount of indescribable joy the two of you have brought to my life.  Yes, even coupled with those not so joyful moments when there is hair pulling, head butting and screaming.  And I think about the joy that you have brought to the lives of others just by offering a smile, a giggle, a hug or a kiss – by sharing who you are and how you love with them.           

In the midst of all that went on this weekend I was blessed with the opportunity to join with other brothers and sisters from across different faiths to pray and to seek God’s help, guidance, and comfort.  As I sat in that service a strange thing happened.  There we were praying for the victims of a senseless act of violence, lighting candles, shedding tears when I heard the noise of a little baby – the coo, gurgle, and finally shout of a baby boy.  I thought back through the events of the day – a morning that started out well but also included some of those, “Oh man, as a parent, not my most bright and shining moment” moments.  And this afternoon as we played at the playground and then went to eat lunch at Mike’s Pizza Palace, there were parents who were either trying to be reunited with their kiddos or finding out that they never would be.  And so I grew ever so more importantly and fittingly aware of the facts of life – like the fact that life is not always cut and dry.  It is messy and yucky sometimes, and sad and blessed at others, confusing and joyful….all rolled in to one.  Things don’t always go the way we plan, and we are affected by the decisions and actions of other people, as well as affecting them with the ways we choose to behave. 

            So the pastor part of me, as soon as the light bulb went off about the messy part of life, was called back to this year’s Advent theme at Mommy’s church – which is the nitty gritty gospel.  You see, you can’t let the nativity scenes – or the Baby Jesus scenes as you call them – on the fronts of Christmas cards or on the town green fool you.  They all look so beautiful, but the truth is that there wasn’t much that was beautiful about the time, the place, or the life that Jesus was born into.  (All of the pictures where Mary looks perfect and saintly are hogwash.  Remind me to show you the pictures of Mommy right after I had you if you want a bit more realistic view!) 

            The truth is that Jesus was born into a world that was not much different from our own -  a world that was full of people vying for power, using weapons to try to solve issues, misusing money, and putting good people down because they were working toward a better way of life for themselves.  And Jesus was born in what some have referred to as a stable and others as a cave and laid in a manger, the thing that animals ate from.  It would be like me having laid you guys in the dog food bowl.  I would have to say that the only thing truly beautiful about the scene were the parts where God broke into it.  Mary recognized that because she sang that gorgeous song – a song that gave thanks to God for all that God was doing in the world and all that God would do through this baby she was carrying.  She sang a song about justice – about God’s desire to see all people have enough and seeking a time when all would be filled with good things.  Mary could have had the same conversation with her cousin Elizabeth that I had with Munga before you guys were even a twinkle in my eye.  She could have asked Elizabeth how she could even think of bringing a child into a hurting, broken, and messy world – a real world full of real people exercising their own free will, making their own choices – some of which made life more painful or challenging for others while others offered life and hope and peace and love.

            And those things, the things of the Advent season, are the good things that God has the ability to fill us all with, even in the midst of painful times, when we don’t seem to have the words to explain how we are doing or what we are feeling.  One of the people who responded to a conversation on facebook today that I was reading said that one of the things that has been striking about these events is that it has unified our entire country, even some of the rest of the world, in like mind – lifting up prayers, all in our own faiths and in our own languages, to our God, seeking understanding, asking forgiveness, striving to find a way to move on and to not allow anything like this to happen again.  In an election year when we have been so divided, this is one of the events that has united millions of people in like mind and spirit.  I wish I could say that it was a good reason.  I wish I could say that it had a meaning and a purpose.  I wish I could explain it all or say that it will never happen again.  But in order for me to say that and be honest I would not only have to be a Mama and a pastor but also a magician or a miracle worker. 

            Mary, all those years ago, when she became a Mama had some idea that her kiddo would go on to do and be something big, although she couldn’t begin to understand what that thing would be.  The Baby Jesus grew up into a man who accepted people and invited them to dinner no matter what society or the cool kids thought of them.  He comforted people and challenged them to strive toward God’s perfection all in a word or a sentence or a story.  He worked through his words and actions to share love and hope and peace and joy with others.  He spoke those things into a messy world, into a world that needed to hear them.  And today we are called to do the same – relying on God to help us and understanding that we can’t do that – we can’t share that message without God’s help, especially on days like today.

            So I guess my hope and prayer is that as a Mama and a pastor I am helping teach you something about how to speak those things into our hurting world whether through actual words of kindness and love and acceptance and justice-seeking or through actions.  My hope and prayer is that in all we say and all we do we strive to fill ourselves and the world with the good things, because God knows that it sees enough of the not so great.  My hope and prayer is that you will have the opportunity to grow up into people who offer others words of hope in the times of despair, a bit of light in the dark times, and a lot of love in the places where there isn’t much.  My hope is that you will be filled with good things that you can pass on to others – so that you don’t ever have to write a letter like this to your children and there might come a day when hope, peace, love, and joy are the norm not the exception. 

                                                                                    Love, Mama