Each year, I approach New Year’s Eve as a time to reflect upon the past year: my mistakes, what I haven’t accomplished, etc. I gaze upon what still has not happened in my life. Once again, for the umpteenth year in a row, I am single, childless, don’t own a home, etc.
So, as you can see, New Year’s Eve has typically become a holiday of dread.
But what if I took New Year’s Eve and used it as a tool of grace? What if New Year’s Eve became the great eraser for the year? Last year I experienced such and such. This is a new year… maybe I won’t experience this again… Maybe I’ll avoid the same mistakes and live in healthier ways…
Yet how can I do this in a way that releases any shame from the past and embraces a fresh start? Is there some ritual that will help us release the past?
Maybe gratitude should become part of this ritual. What if this became a holiday in which I thank God for what I’ve experienced and accomplished? What if I thank God for the people who have touched my lives and the opportunities I’ve had to minister to others?
So this year, I’ll try something different. I’ll place 2012 behind me. I’ll ask to be reconciled to God, my neighbor and self for any bad decisions and mistakes I might have made. And I will firmly place one foot in front of the other as I walk with hope into 2013.
That’s the beginning of the questions I asked myself while watching The Fitzgerald Family Christmas. Through this film, Ed Burns gifts us with a heartfelt story and ways we can reflect upon our own lives.
It’s Christmas, and James Fitzgerald has approached his son, Jerry, regarding their upcoming Christmas plans. Jerry and his six siblings have mixed feelings about their father since he deserted the family while they were young. Their mother, Rosie, refuses to invite her ex-husband into her house under any circumstance, especially Christmas.
Inside each member of the Fitzgerald family bubbles feelings of resentment, anger and confusion. When information comes out about their father, some take into account his present circumstances as they process forgiveness.
Through watching this movie, other points of reflection came to mind:
Who are specific people in our lives that we find it difficult to forgive?
Is there a certain time of year when forgiveness is easy?
How long does it take for each one of us to forgive?
How do each of us start the process of forgiveness?
Which member of the Fitzgerald family do we identify with the most when it comes to forgiving someone?
I think there are people in each of our lives that it would be incredibly difficult for us to forgive. As Christians, we are told through Scriptures to forgive. In Matthew 18:21-22, Peter asks Jesus “‘Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?’ Jesus says to him ‘not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.'”
As he teaches prayer, Jesus reminds all to ask God to “‘forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors” (Matthew 6:12).
Even as Jesus hung on the cross, in physical, emotional and spiritual pain, Luke 23:34 says that he prays “‘Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.'”
Forgiving others and forgiving ourselves? Easier said than done, Jesus. Easier said than done…
I am familiar that there are friends I still need to fully forgive. The process may have started, but forgiveness isn’t an overnight occurrence. It may have been a quick process for Jesus, but it hasn’t always been for me. And it wasn’t for the Fitzgerald family.
Forgiveness is a journey. Sometimes, we have to start by making a little step – – trying to understand what was going through their lives or seeing them as human. It’s understanding that I would want mercy from my sisters and brothers and God, so why shouldn’t I grant that to another person?
As I think about it, if Judas would have experienced the grace and forgiveness of Jesus, would he had hung himself (Matthew 27)? If we forgive those who have caused us pain, does that release both us and them from the burden of the past? Does it free us to move forward towards the future, unloading the rocks that weigh us down?
Burns’ movie gives us a chance to reflect on our process of forgiveness. It provides us an opportunity to think the anger that continues to fester inside of us. And it gives us the chance to ask others for their forgiveness and make amends where possible.
I preached this sermon on December 24, 2012 at St. Paul United Church of Christ, Old Blue Rock Rd., Cincinnati.
What is love?
When we think about love, we often think about romance, even falling in love. We think about the love that a parent passes along to a child, grandparent to grandchild. Our mind goes to the most-familiar love scenarios: two people falling in love. A marriage ceremony. The birth of a child.
But from what I see from the Divine, God is all about shining love in the least likely places.
Here we are at the stable, a non-conventional place for any child to be born. At this little manger, a new spark of love is born into the world.
If you look at Luke’s account which was just read, in Jesus’ first few hours and days of his life, he was surrounded by love. And not just by his parents, but shepherds appeared adoring the baby. After leaving the stable, Mary and Joseph presented Jesus at the Temple in Jerusalem. While they were at the Temple, Simeon and the prophet Anna showered Jesus with love and gave glory to God for the experience of being with Jesus.
I believe this experience with love from the least likely people at the beginning of his life helped Jesus to truly understand the presence of God around him and within each of us. And I believe that his experience with love in the first few days of his life gave Jesus that extra persuasion to preach love. Already born with the spark of the divine within him, Jesus grew in love, knowing that nothing else was greater than loving God, our neighbors and even ourselves.
We just never know who we’re going to interact with in our lives, and how this love will ripple into the world. Through these interactions, Jesus felt love in his earliest days, and, to me, helped him grow in love.
Throughout the ministry of Jesus we see scenes of Jesus bringing compassion to the sick and those deemed unclean by society. We see him having dinner with those who were the outcasts. And they experienced divine, unconditional steadfast love that we see in Jesus. Two thousand years later, the love that was given to Jesus and the love that Jesus gave to so many can still be felt in our world.
But how can we love when someone has hurt us so horrifically?
Earlier this year, a car pulled in front of James Moore, not giving him enough time to stop. He slammed into the car. While he was not at fault in the accident, the driver of the car, Zeke Stepaniak was killed and another passenger injured. James had a heavy heart. Even though it wasn’t his fault, he still felt so much guilt for the accident. Soon after the accident, Zeke’s family, who are from the Colerain township area, contacted James in love. While both families were reeling in anguish, they started praying with one another. And on the day of the funeral, James Moore walked in with the family of Zeke Stepaniak. Through their tragedy, they had adopted each other as family, putting grace and love above anger and hurt.
From this story, we see that love showers us with grace.
Have you seen the film Love Actually? The opening scene begins at Heathrow airport, where people are blissfully meeting their loved ones at the arrivals gate. Then the prime minister states this:
“Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. General opinion’s starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don’t see that. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often, it’s not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it’s always there – fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends. When the planes hit the Twin Towers, as far as I know, none of the phone calls from the people on board were messages of hate or revenge – they were all messages of love. If you look for it, I’ve got a sneaking suspicion… love actually is all around.”
So love is all around? Love is in those in-between moments? It’s hard to see hope, peace, joy and love after the tragedy happens. The events in Connecticut a couple of weeks ago gave us each a heavy heart. We know some of our sisters and brothers will be dealing with so much pain this Christmas, pain from grieving, depression and conflicts.
Often it’s difficult to see love when so many that we care about are truly hurting.
But then we open our eyes a little more. We look around at what is happening around us. People are sitting with someone who’s ill or grieving. People we don’t even know are praying for us. We see love going beyond races, genders, sexual orientations, religious beliefs, family structures, political views. Love is the universal truth that we as Christians experience in Christ.
Bad things happen in our lives. There’s no way to avoid all suffering in our lifetime. But, again, we meet love in an unlikely place as we walk the horrible road of suffering. Love has the potential to take a very bad situation and make it less painful and lonely. Love is contagious, and once we experience the greatness of love shared with us we can’t help but pass it forward.
From what we often see, love is always present, love is around us during moments of pain and moments of bliss.
From the recent tragedy in Connecticut, journalist Ann Curry tweeted “imagine if everyone could commit to doing one act of kindness for each precious life lost. An act of kindness big or small. Are you in?” The theme #26acts represent many of those whose lives were lost in Newtown. Now people are posting their acts online hoping to influence more and more people to do the same. A seven year old bought coffee for eight people with his own money. Someone else bought books for a child in need. This is how love trickles into the world.
And then the spirit of love keeps nudging people to pay it forward. People are creatively finding ways to bring love and comfort to the lives of their fellow neighbors.
How are we living into this theme of active love? Just yesterday we collected presents for local children in need. We collected food for those at Washington UCC. In the past month, we’ve gone Christmas caroling, took cookies to our neighboring businesses and held a community dinner.
The love of Christ has touched so many hearts in this congregation, and we can not help but pass this along to our neighbors.
From this example, we see that love is not only a feeling but an active part of our lives.
Each little experience with love impacts us. From the time we are young into our later years, each time we meet love somewhere, we experience the presence of God. The more we share that love, the more others see God in their lives.
And that is what God is calling us to do this Christmas and throughout the entire year.
Part of our congregation’s vision statement is Carrying Christ Love to All. Our love a church family is an active part of our faith. To us, love means having open tables and open hearts to all as we are all part of the Body of Christ. Through our church’s vision of mission, nurture, laughter and inclusiveness, we have faith that people in our church and community will experience God. Through our involvement in this community, we pray that others will see the unconditional love of Christ in their midst.
How is God challenging you to love outside of the box today? Maybe it’s extending love to someone who has hurt you. Maybe it’s giving grace to yourself for making a mistake so many months ago. Maybe it’s opening your eyes to a new way of loving. Maybe it’s sharing your love with someone in pain.
Two thousand years ago, from simple beginnings, a baby was born. With that birth came hope, light and love that has rippled into our world. As we go forward, let us remember that love happens in the least likely places and ways and between the least likely people. And today we see this in that least likely place: far away from home, surrounded by animals and strangers in a drafty stable.
Last night I was watching one of my favorite new shows: Scandal. Part of the reason I enjoy this show is because it’s fascinating to watch the story line unfold.
There were moments in last night’s episode that left me a little nauseated. When Huck entered the house of the family that he admired, he discovered that the entire family had been fatally shot. This scene was one of the most graphic and intense moments of the series so far.
Even with the intelligent story lines and fantastic acting, the show has a substantial amount of violence. Two weeks ago on Scandal, the President was shot. Others have been killed or tortured in the name of politics.
Sometimes, I wonder why I watch any intense and violent dramas.
Shows about homicide investigations and wars do not usually appeal to me. I like Grey’s Anatomy, a drama where people are healed and sent to live a happier life. Sure, there was violence on the show (at the end of season six), but overall, a message of healing and hope fills the story line. I tend to avoid intensely graphic movies, like Quentin Tarantino films, no matter how technically well they are created.
Yet, even a series about healing can’t avoid scenes of destruction and violence. In fact, violence is in every part of our culture.
Yes, there are times when inferring violence is crucial in telling a story. But sometimes the director creates a very real scene, and death appears to have happened on the screen in front of us.
It’s even hard to avoid violence in church. The Hebrew Bible is filled with violent stories; the writers attributed these acts of violence to God. They also believed they were warriors for God.
Then, we have a cross in front of us. Sometimes the cross has the crucified Jesus, sometimes it doesn’t. The story of the crucifixion is read each year during Holy Week. In many theologies, salvation comes because Jesus was brutally killed since humans are sinners. Additionally, songs like “Onward Christian Soldiers” give a very war-like image of our faith.
Many of our communion tables reflect violence. Each time we eat the body and blood of Christ, are we creating a violent image in the minds of those in the pews?
So books, the Bible, movies, music, theology, news, internet and video games all include violence. It’s a reality that’s all around us. When we allow scene after scene of violence, how can violence not seep into our culture?
In conversations that I have recently had with a friend of mine, we often wonder if people are becoming immune to violence. After the last shooting in Oregon, very little was said. Were we becoming tolerant of the stories heard multiple times this year? What has happened to those who survived the massacre at the Wisconsin Sikh temple in August or the people in the hair salon who experienced trauma in October?
I wonder why all of a sudden that today’s particular shooting in Newtown, CT creates more conversation, even though this type of violence has happened repeatedly in 2012. Has it become part of everyone’s status updates because children were killed? Why aren’t we talking about violence that happen in some neighborhoods each and every day? Do certain stories get attention because we value certain people over others? Weren’t the Sikhs, the workers in Minnesota or the young adults in the movie theater just as valuable and made in God’s image?
We are becoming immune to the stories. The fine line between “pretend” and “real life” violence is fading. As we become more unaffected by violent visions, the ripple effect of violence continues to grow.
There will be people with a variety of views on gun control reading this post. How can we, a diverse culture with a variety of perspectives on guns, come together to reduce gun violence? How can we see that a variety of issues (mental health issues, access to weapons, the economy, being exposed to violent scenes, etc.) have the potential to play into these acts of destruction? How can we work together to avoid casualties like the ones in Newtown?
These are the questions swimming in my head this evening. I am so blessed that I told my niece and nephew that I loved them this afternoon, and I wish I was there to give them a hug.
Gentle God, Great Comforter,
We open our lives to you and each other.
Yet in times like these it’s so very difficult to remain hopeful and trusting.
It’s hard to hear of more and more violent situations.
Our minds and hearts are with those in Newtown, Connecticut today.
Please be with those who have lost a loved one in this shooting.
Heal those who have been injured.
Give comfort to those who experience trauma,
and bring peace to our communities, country and world.
Give strength to those who bring a comforting presence to those hurt.
We are grateful for our families and friends
and ask for your love to surround all of us as we process this news.
May we see the hope, love and peace that is to come during this season of Advent.
25“There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves. 26People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken.27Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in a cloud’ with power and great glory. 28Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.”
29Then he told them a parable: “Look at the fig tree and all the trees;30as soon as they sprout leaves you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near. 31So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near. 32Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all things have taken place. 33Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away. 34“Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life, and that day catch you unexpectedly, 35like a trap. For it will come upon all who live on the face of the whole earth. 36Be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place, and to stand before the Son of Man.” (NRSV)
I have a love-hate relationship with the apocalyptic.
Ever since I was young, apocalyptic movies have scared me to no end. Testament. The Day After. Miracle Mile. Melancholia. I’m not talking about the softy-apocalyptic movies like The Day After Tomorrow, Independence Day, Deep Impact and Armageddon. I’m referring to those movies where no one lives at the end or death is immanent for everyone. When these movies are playing on cable, I can’t turn away. I am eerily drawn to them.
Reflecting on what these movies mean, at first glance I see “no hope.” There’s no way to escape this. Some of these are human-made and some are natural. Yet there is no route of escape.
I remember March 10, 1982. Hearing that the world was going to explode because the planets were going to align gave me much anxiety (see the Jupiter Effect). I was almost 9 years old, so the possibility of doomsday took over my thoughts for the day.
I was also scared of the Bible texts like the one listed above. As a child, Matthew 24 was my scary text. It was as scary as March 10, 2012 or the movie The Day After. What was Jesus talking about? And when was this happening to us?
Back then, the early Christian communities (part of the Jesus Movement) believed that Jesus would be appearing at any moment. In 2000 years, it didn’t happen. In the past 39 1/2 years of my lifetime, nuclear wars and earth-ending natural disasters haven’t happened either.
Now that I’m an adult, I’m less anxious about a planet or meteor/asteroid hitting us. I’m even less anxious about a nuclear war occurring. Do I fear December 21? No. It’s another day that will come and go. Logic and reason have now replaced expanding fears of the last days. And with December 21, I see a change in seasons and the beginning of longer days.
But I continue to age, and I see how life continues to change, and life is full of loss.
Seeing the film Seeking a Friend for the End of the World is another reminder of our fragile lives and the grieving process we continuously endure. All human life faces their extinction. There will be nothing left. Total extinction is a horrifying thought. Sure – for many of us, there’s the hope of an afterlife with God, but we’re not always 100% sure what that’s going to look like. We have faith that God will be there, but it’s still the unknown, and there’s still loss when transitioning from this life to the next.
***Sorta Spoiler Alert*** The most beautiful part in the movie is the end, where salvation is found in the love of people surrounding us. That’s all I’ll say. ***End of Spoiler Alert***
As we see in this movie and so many others, the chaos that occurs in response to the pending apocalypse is probably the scariest part of many films. Some people are violent. There are others who are kind. The beautiful moments in these films are the human interactions that show love even in the face of doom.
Even if the world doesn’t end in fire and/or ice, with a bang or a mushroom cloud, there are still endings and beginnings. My new apocalypse is turning 40.
Sure, this is absolutely a first-world problem. But as the day grows closer, I still experience this sense of doom and loss. What will the other side of 40 look like? Who will be there?
It’s hard to do but instead of looking at 40 as the end of my young adulthood and the end of life’s summer, I instead look for a new hope. There is hope after the long decade of my 30’s. There is newness in a new decade, a new year.
So why does Advent start with such a shadow-like text? We might as well be watching an apocalyptic marathon. Because, unlike the apocalyptic movies, Jesus shows us that the end is a new beginning. The end of our church year is a beginning of a new one. The end of my 30’s is the beginning of a new decade with new levels of confidence and new relationships. I am blessed to have so many by my side as I cross the threshold of a new decade.
So the fig trees are ripening, the year is ending and gray hairs are beginning to grow in my scalp. Even so, the presence of God and neighbor are here, and that is where I find my hope.
Michelle L. Torigian 