Scripture Isaiah 11:1-10
I. I have served as an ordained pastor now for nearly two decades – and three church staff positions before that.
And unlike the gentleman holding the “I Am Humble” sign at the top of our bulletin today, I would say that thanks to my pastoral experience, my sign reads, “I Have Been Humbled.”
And
I have been humbled. I have been humbled by the experience of standing up in Worship
one day and exclaiming, “Something’s wrong with my microphone.” And the
congregation responded as one, “And also with you!”
And
I have been humbled by the sign I found on the warm air hand-blower in the
men’s restroom at my last church: “Press Here for a Message from Your Pastor.”
And
I have been humbled by the woman who approached me after Worship today and
said, “Pastor Chuck, I so enjoy your sermons. They are always better than the
next one.”
And
I have been humbled by the same woman who then asked me when I was going to
publish my sermons. “Well,” I said, flattered, “I am thinking about setting
aside a few of my favorites and having them published posthumously.” “Oh,” she
replied, “That can’t happen too soon!”
Even
after all these humbling experiences: I have never awakened one morning and convincingly said, “I Am Humble.” Humility
is not part of my individual emotional make-up.
Nor do I think humility is a part of anyone's emotional make-up. For I
believe humility is intrinsically relational. It is something I receive in
relationship with others, and with God’s universe. It’s not a virtue I have
acquired or can acquire unto myself. It’s a result of what I learn from being
alive.
Humility
is intrinsically relational. Humility is learning over and over and over again
that I have more sources from which to receive than from which to give.
Humility for me is – in one word – teachability.
Humility means
we need each other.
II. The prophet Isaiah today offers his
longsuffering people a vision of the renewal of God's promise at the time of
the Babylonian Captivity. The Captivity occurred in the sixth century BCE when
the Hebrew leaders of Judah were captured and deported hundreds of miles
east to Babylon.
Humbled
they were, these captured leaders. And humbled we are, the presumed leaders of
the free world, when we realize – captive or free – that we cannot make
any hard journey alone.
We
need help. Each of us needs help.
And
yet, we deny it. For I have discovered there are three words I rarely hear church
people say. Three words I believe are words of true humility: “I … need …
help!”
Oh,
we love to help – we church people. We need to be needed. Instead, we are so afraid
of being seen as needy.
And
yet, to need help doesn’t mean we are needy. To need help means we are human. (And
we must be human to be humane.) To openly express our need for help means we
have given up being godly or playing God – at least for the moment.
Humility:
We need each other.
Can
you say it with me? Let’s say it together: “I … Need … Help!”
In the words of Mister Rogers: "There. I knew you could!"
I
knew you could – we all could – be humbled.
III.
And so many of us can be humbled – needing
each other’s help – as we approach one of the most difficult seasons for more
people than any other.
“Oh,
it’s the most wonderful time of the yearrrr”, we hear – for so many! And
because our culture preaches and teaches and reaches out to tell us, every
caroling moment of every Christmasy day, that it should be that way for all of
us … more and more and more, we buy into
these unrealistic expectations which are nothing but resentments waiting to
happen.
Or,
if you are like many I know: You never bought into those expectations to begin
with. You are instead tempted into the sadness of being reminded once again
that the Christmas cheer of some nostalgic past will not be re-created. That
Christ child innocence will be with you no more.
Which
is why we’re having our first-ever Blue Christmas service
two Saturdays hence. A time of meditative Worship at 5 pm – immediately
following the falling of the sun on the Winter Solstice – when many of us can
come together in this transept of the sanctuary with carols, candles, prayers, and
the memory of a loved one – which we may wish to share, and will have the
opportunity to share. This Longest Night service – December 21 – will honor the
grief of the holiday season for many. BPC – this Place for Healing – will offer
healing and hope to those who desire it: your family – your friends – it could
even be you.
A
time not when we can be humble, but when we can practice humility. Leaning on
each other. Needing each other. Saying in the presence of our sisters and
brothers, in the cacophony of God’s compassion – in the whisper of the Spirit –
in the stillness and presence and hearing of one another – three simple words:
“I … need … help.”
It’s
not a Christmas gift we need to be given. Not yet, at least.
It’s
an Advent gift, on the other side of Hope: The gift of Humility. Needing each
other. Hearing others say – hearing ourselves
say – “I … need … help.”
IV. It’s the Advent hope and humility from a prophet
today
who envisions fraternal shoots from national stumps … and spiritual branches
from religious roots.
And
it’s the fraternal spirit – versus the national religiosity – of reaching out
that grows faith community in the most surprising and grace-full ways … if we
but “shoot” and “branch” ourselves just a little this season.
Not to give just
the right gift. Not to catch just the right spirit. To extend ourselves – our
presence – to one another. We church people need each other – and need to
reach others – in a Xmas culture gone Xmas mad. We church people need each
other – and need to reach others – with an open heart and tender soul that says
to one another: “Do you need help? Well: I need help, too!”
Help we receive when we approach this Lord’s Table with an open heart – and an open mind – and a willing and welcoming spirit this day …
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