Northbrae Community Church
10:30am Morning Service
December 31, 2017
Preaching: Rev Lauren Van Ham, MA
Worship Assistant: Rev Elizabeth Hutchins, MDiv
Sermon title:God is Always Needing to Be Born
For me to be here, with you, right now, is a marvelous gift. My ministry seldom puts me in a pulpit so when I received Elizabeth’s invitation, I knew I must accept. Just as quickly, the mental nagging set in, “But, Lauren, what will you say?” Please understand, it’s not that the past 12 months have been void of material. It’s the complexity of what the un-censored Lauren is feeling versus what might be a more ministerial interpretation.
For the last decade, my holy work in this world has been called, Eco-chaplaincy. On this path, I have tried to create some guiding principles to help me and others who wish to embody a lifestyle which supports and celebrates life in all its forms, humans included! In this time on Earth, the task of being an informed human is unrelenting; societal panic and personal despair are abundant. Fortunately, the eco-teachings we receive in this season are hugely instructive about how we might ready ourselves for whatever lies ahead, and I want to highlight 3 of them this morning.
Today is December 31st, New Year’s Eve. One week ago, just after the shortest day of the year, Christians welcomed the newborn Prince of Peace. And one week from now, many will celebrate Epiphany; the day three astronomers found Jesus, recognizing Him as the light many had foretold. And so today, we are nested in the 12 days of Christmas, the season that celebrates the arrival and return of Holy Innocence. The dominant culture lends its voice reminding us that today is the FINAL day of 2017! Media in every form instructs us to don our best attire, eat a lavish dinner, kiss the one we love at midnight, and resolve to accomplish something extraordinary - ideally - by February!!!
But wait. Didn’t I just say, “Holy Innocence?” The shortest day only just happened. The wisemen haven’t even reached Jesus yet, and when they do, the story indicates that the baby was taken away to Egypt, away from the noise and violence of the Imperial system. In Berkeley terms, it might be a bit like the family that chooses a home birth and very intentionally avoids the outside world for a few days simply to embrace stillness and quiet for this vulnerable being who has just arrived from beyond. And so what about us? Do we ever give ourselves a chance to be still and quiet, vulnerable and connected to The Beyond?
Walter Brueggemann, the brilliant Old Testament scholar, says this, “Sabbath, in the first instance, is not about worship. It is about work stoppage. It is about withdrawal from the anxiety system of Pharaoh, the refusal to let one’s life be defined by production and consumption and the endless pursuit of private well-being.”
In this moment, the Christ Child - real or metaphorical - is an infant, impressionable and 100% dependent. In this moment, Earth’s soil is fallow, resting to be ready for when longer days return. Despite Advertising’s efforts to move us through this sacred, liminal space and JUMP into the New Year, we can honor what might feel a bit messier, but also more true. Twelfth century mystic, Meister Eckhart wrote, “Nothing in all creation is so like God as stillness.” I invite you to recall in your last week, a time of spiritual stillness. Where were you? What was happening?
Stillness or sabbath, is the first practice to help us envision the life we are called to live. Sometimes, the stillness is blissful but I will not gloss over the words of Brueggemann or the sacred texts for today. Brueggemann says the act of Sabbath – a sacred stopping – is the conscious withdrawal from the anxiety system – the one that encourages us to be defined by producing and consuming! When I pull away from those patterns, I don’t know about you, but I feel disoriented, lost and even a pretty duped. When we practice stillness, there can be a nervous backlash in response to “not doing”. Spiritual disciplines encourage us to stay there, despite the discomfort. Remember David Wagoner’s poem: “The trees ahead and bushes beside you are not lost… You must let them find you.”
And then, in that strange space of leaving the day-to-day pace of 120mph and finding ourselves on foot, in the forest, we might actually discover feelings. That’s right, I mentioned this can get messy. When we allow ourselves to slow down so much that our emotional voices can be heard, what do they say? And more importantly, will we honor them? Feeling is the second practice that helps move us toward the world we are empowered to co-create. We begin with our own feelings, but to really appreciate the collective emotional intelligence available, there’s more to this one.
Soong-Chan Rah, is a theologian and seminary professor who is committed to freeing spiritual communities from what he calls, “Western Cultural Captivity.” In his book, Prophetic Lament: A Call for Justice in Troubled Times, Rah writes, “Lament is honesty before God and each other… To hide from suffering and death would be an act of denial. If an individual would deny the reality of death during a funeral, friends would justifiably express concern over the mental health of that individual. In the same way, should we not be concerned over a church that lives in denial over the reality of death in our midst?”
While so much of what I’m sharing today begins inwardly, for each of us as individuals, it is what we do together that makes our beliefs visibly alive in the world. This can be really tough because we live in a system that rewards us for our ability to do things without needing any help. Such teachings are nowhere to be found in the sacred texts I know; moreover, Earth’s teachings demonstrate over and over the brilliant interdependency that sustains us all – trees needing CO2; Mammals needing oxygen – as the most obvious example. Our communities are only as strong as the transparency and vulnerability we entrust to them. Humans are healthiest when we ritualize our grief and overwhelm, honoring them as the holy lamentations that they are. This Eco-chaplain is going to suggest that, a New Year’s resolution for all spiritual communities (which includes Northbrae!) is to create a very intentional space to lament. When our anguish is fully met, we see our passions and convictions more clearly; more love becomes possible. It is the sort of breakthrough moment Rilke is describing in his poem.
In the lines just after the ones I read, Rilke describes Jacob, wrestling with the angel. Jacob is dominated by the angel, he “loses” and comes away from the fight forever changed, blessed. In the face of more frequent natural disasters, civil wars over resources, and about 150 species lost every day, we are most certainly being asked to wrestle! We don’t have to, of course, but I suspect that if we apply stillness and allow our true feelings to surface, that engagement will be a natural response. This awareness is essential in what Eco-ministry means and how it manifests. Robin Wall Kimmerer, a Potawatomi Indian and botanist writes, “Knowing that you love the earth changes you, activates you to defend and protect and celebrate. But when you feel that the Earth loves you in return, that feeling transforms the relationship from a one-way street into a sacred bond.”
Herein lies the third and final practice I’m sharing today. Do you feel Earth’s love for you? Can we even imagine a Love so great? In the noise around us, imagining the magnitude of Earth’s love for us is a radical act.
Last July, there was an eerie string of days when a Delaware-sized piece of the Larsen C ice shelf was breaking away from Antarctica. Did some of you here watch that? From my point of view, I was astonished, watching science blogs with awe and terror. I wanted everything to stop. I wanted to call out, “Is anyone else listening to this? Who among us is thinking about what this really, really means?” It was a few weeks later when I heard myself say to a close friend, “I wish the whole world would’ve taken a moment of silence.” Yes! What if, we had? Would anything feel different right now if, when the Larsen C left the South Pole embarking on its steadily melting float North, humans around the world had taken 60 seconds to be still…and to feel? We do this for other epic events, tragic, cosmic or otherwise. Where were you, for example, on the day of the total eclipse?
Perhaps the Larsen C’s split from Antarctica is the Divine plan unfolding just as it should. Elizabeth’s Sacred Story this morning was a fitting example of how any of us, mid-way through our heroic journey, can doubt and question the destination. None of us knows how our story with Earth is to unfold, or find its end for that matter; but it is in this paradoxical space of wrestling and finding blessing that our spiritual paths are formed. I think we do this because we can imagine the Love that comes from it -- the Divine Love that is in us, and for us, wants us to be in love.
Meister Eckhart says, “We are all meant to be mothers of God...for God is always needing to be born.” And as with shared lamenting, might birthing God also be a collective act? Eco-ministry is as diverse as the animal kingdom; and it needs to be! We do not need to look like others in our community so much as each community needs to support and celebrate the intentional efforts made by its members to wrestle and bear fruit. Earth’s invitation is one gradual, gigantic co-awakening…and it is happening even as the unraveling waxes on.
As this new calendar years dawns, and as decorated trees are re-appropriated for mulch, how will you tend God as God is being born? When we’re clear about what isn’t working, Eco-ministry asks us to imagine what we do want and I hope we all will consider these three practices: Stopping for Stillness, Daring to Feel and sharing our Laments in Community, and then Wrestling not for the perceived reward of winning, but rather to receive the unimaginable flow of Earth’s Love that is in us, for us and beyond us.