            
| Sermon Preached at Northbrae Community Church, December 11, 2005 By Ron Sebring The Foundations of Joy Last Friday, I had the opportunity to be a greeter at the Berkeley Breakfast Club. I stood at the door with a greeter tag on my lapel, shaking hands with people as they arrived for breakfast. And there was a lot of good natured humor: "Aren’t you suppose to shake hands with people, after the service?" All that put me in a good mood, and as one gentleman approached, I took his hand and said to him, "Happy Holidays!" He snapped back, somewhat intensely. "I’m not into that!" he said. "It’s Christmas! Not happy holidays." I didn’t expect that, not in Berkeley, California. Capital of Political Correctness. "No one’s gonna take my Christmas away from me!" he said. Now he is a good fellow, a nice gentleman and all. Half teasing. But for a moment there, I felt the icy flame of conservatism staring at me. Reflective of a national grumpiness at this time of year. In this holiday season of joy and good cheer, we have a heated debate. There is a national war-cry for political correctness. The word "Christmas" falls smack within the cross hairs. In this season of peace and good will, people are upset about what they call it. On the one side, there are those wanting to feel a part of the holidays. Jews light Hanukkah candles and have a special celebration in this season. And I understand their concern. Music indoctrinates, and Jewish parents can get concerned about their children hearing so many Christmas carols in public places. Hanukkah begins at Sundown on our Christmas day. We’re still in the midst of Ramadan, which goes through the holidays. Eid, the feast ending Ramadan, will be January 10th. Islamic children watch their parents fast through the day, and they hear stories from the Koran. And in the market place, they see their playmates, children they want to be friends with, doing Christmas things. And I understand their concern Kwanzaa begins the day after Christmas. This side is saying, "Let’s make it a holiday season for everyone." Let the children of the world share in the holiday spirit, so the world might feel the meaning in all of our stories: a message of peace and good will. On the other side, there’s a movement to defend calling it "Christmas." Christian fundamentalists and political conservatives are leading the charge. And the metaphors they are using are military. The American Family Association is refusing to patronize Target stores. And they are urging other "Christians" to do likewise. They claim Target stores are not using the words "Merry Christmas" in their advertising. Target denies that they have any kind of "anti-Merry Christmas" policy. The Catholic League is boycotting Wal-Mart. They claim Wal-Mart’s web site doesn’t respond to searches on "Christmas." Bill O’Reilly, on the Fox network, has a campaign entitled, "Christmas Under Siege," a first rate military metaphor. These commentators refer to the enemy as "professional atheists," and "Christian haters," and those engaged in a vast "liberal plot." O’Reilly has a chart on his Web site of stores using "Happy Holidays." He seems to be encouraging people not to shop in these stores. I understand the Fox channel is selling a "O’Reilly Factor Christmas Ornament" for your Christmas tree. The problem I have with creating such a blown up "battle" at Christmas time is that it robs Christmas of its "joy." In a season of love and unity, it makes people unnecessary "enemies" of one another. This is not only a problem of the season. It is a problem with religion in general Becoming so wrapped up in getting the creeds right, that we lose the love of it all. Becoming so wrapped up in institutional politics; that we forget the joy of it all. Becoming so wrapped up in moral compulsiveness; choking out the flow of life itself. Becoming so focused on the road map, that we do not look up and see the road. When I was growing up, the concept of "fun" and "church" did not go together. This is contrary to the whole spirit of both Christmas and religion. The biblical story of Christmas bubbles with joy. Especially in Luke’s gospel. It’s like there is a quiet stir over the land, like a night before the dawn. Mary receives news from the angel that she is to give birth. Her heart explodes with joy and she breaks forth in song. If we read it, and analyze it, and draw deep theological meaning out of it … we are in danger of not hearing the joy in it. Like catching a bird and wondering how it can fly. So we take the bird apart, analyze the feathers and bones, the aerodynamics of the wings. We understand the bird. But it may never occur to us that this bird will no longer fly. Shepherds keeping watch over their flocks at night. They see the signs. They are afraid. But they are led to the manger where the whole sky explodes with angels singing, "Praise God in the highest, and on earth, peace among people of good will." The message is in the mood. Anna and Simeon, perhaps a couple of homeless people sleeping in the temple. They are waiting for something. For generations, they are waiting for something. Then here comes a young girl, followed by a teenage boy, carrying a baby. Anna and Simeon see in this baby a hope for their nation. For the world. And they explode with Joy. The Message is in the mood. We hear in this the echo of the prophet Isaiah (55:12). Speaking of a people’s journey through exile. "For you shall go out in joy, and be led back in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall burst into song, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands." Not a lot of theology in this. It’s poetry. Graphically expressing raw joy. The Message is in the mood. The key to joy, the foundation that holds this third candle of Advent, is in getting out of the head and into the heart. It’s beholding the world with heart. It’s embracing the events of our lives, good or bad, with heart. I enjoy getting with GQ every now and then and learning about China, and the Chinese language. It’s an amazing language, built up with graphics and graphic combinations, in contrast to one build on concepts and abstractions from concept. One source, referring to the way the brain processes language, says that Chinese is a "right brain" language, rather than a "left brain" language. GQ explained to me the concept of "I think." "Wo sheng." The Chinese character for "think" is the graphic of an eye, next to the graphic for a tree, with the graphic of a heart beneath them. Now pull those three images together, in that configuration, and ponder for a moment. Looking at a tree with heart. Heart supporting the looking. And that’s what it means to "think!" Too often, we look at the tree "objectively." Think about it "indifferently." But to look with heart. Wow! The joy we find in the world is but the joy that shines from within our hearts, once we get beyond our heads. To let it out takes trust. When I served as pastor in Mulvane, Kansas, there was a stray cat that started handing around our house. My wife at the time didn’t like cats, so I kept it outside. I fed it from time to time. We sort of bonded, and often, during the day, it slept at my feet in my next door office. This cat had kittens, and one day, a kitten was sneaking along the wall, and came into view of the full-length mirror behind my office door. It saw its own reflection, and jumped. Scrambled away. Then it started stalking its reflection. Hissing. But the cat in the mirror hissed back. Finally, it got close enough to strike. It lifted up a paw, and smack! But something hard struck back. It was the funniest thing, watching how we so often contend with our own reflections. It’s a bit like the story of the kitten who was so very thirsty. She wanted a drink, and went to the pond. But when she leaned over to get a drink, there was her reflection, glaring back. She jumped, but crept back up to the pond. She hissed. But the reflection hissed back. She growled. But the reflection growled back. She went to her mother and complained. "I’m so thirst, and there is a cat in the pond that won’t let me get a drink of water." "Well," said the mother. "The next time you go to that pond. Lean over and give that cat a kiss." It was something the little kitten had not considered. So she approached the pond cautiously. She leaned over and smiled. And the cat in the pond smiled back. She leaned over and gave it a kiss. And amidst rippling rings, the cat in the pond disappeared. The kitten licked her lips, and tasted the very thing for which she so desperately thirsted.
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