Preaching text: Luke 1:46-55
I’m tired.
I’m not tired in the sense of “I didn’t sleep last night and I really need my coffee this morning” kind of way. I’m worn out. Fed up. I’m tired of the world being the way it is. Enough is enough.
I’m tired of turning on my internet to hear the latest idiocy from our political class. These people say the most offensive and hurtful things. In a polite society, they’d be told to go pound sand for espousing such bigotry and hate, but we don’t live in a polite society. Not anymore and maybe not ever. No, we worship bullies. We want to be them. We foolishly think that’s real strength. I’m sorry, but when you go to the movies and root for the bad guy, it’s supposed to be a joke. You don’t mistake the villain for the hero. You know which side is which. Too bad real life isn’t working that way.
I’m tired of turning on my internet to hear the latest idiocy from our political class. These people say the most offensive and hurtful things. In a polite society, they’d be told to go pound sand for espousing such bigotry and hate, but we don’t live in a polite society. Not anymore and maybe not ever. No, we worship bullies. We want to be them. We foolishly think that’s real strength. I’m sorry, but when you go to the movies and root for the bad guy, it’s supposed to be a joke. You don’t mistake the villain for the hero. You know which side is which. Too bad real life isn’t working that way.
And I’m sick of all the heartache. Our little congregation has had four funerals in the past year and not a single one of them was easy to accept. Three of four were sudden and unexpected deaths from cancer, with each of the deceased being folks who just six months before their passing seemed perfectly fine and healthy. Each one leaves behind a whole slew of people who loved them whose hearts are breaking. We loved these people: Millie, Don, Suzy, and now Freddie. And now they’re gone. And we who are left behind are still picking up the pieces.
I’m fed up with being broke. I’m sick of being sick (even if my symptoms have improved dramatically since May). I’m tired of my car breaking down every two weeks it seems. I’m tired of being steamrolled in Hearthstone. Even the stupid stuff that doesn’t matter like my games seem to go against me.
There is one consolation in all this. I know I’m not alone.
I’m fed up with being broke. I’m sick of being sick (even if my symptoms have improved dramatically since May). I’m tired of my car breaking down every two weeks it seems. I’m tired of being steamrolled in Hearthstone. Even the stupid stuff that doesn’t matter like my games seem to go against me.
There is one consolation in all this. I know I’m not alone.
It wouldn’t surprise me if my little rant just now could be “copy-pasted” into anyone of your lives. I’d imagine there’s a fair number of people here today who are sick and tired of life coming up short. Who are fed up with hurting. Who are fed up with struggling through. Who look out on the world and see far too much ugliness.
There is one consolation in all this. We are not alone.
Pundits everywhere at utterly baffled by the success of Donald Trump and Bernie Sanders on the right and left respectively of our political spectrum. These outsiders are taking the upcoming election by storm. This isn’t hard to figure out. I get it. People are ticked off. People are tired. They’re sick of life running them over. They want something different, radically so. Whether that sentiment is prudent or wise is another matter entirely, but I sure understand what’s behind all this. They want change. They want things fixed. They want life to work the way it’s supposed to again.
But there is one consolation in all this. We are not alone in feeling this way.
These emotions are nothing new. Nor is the fact that the world is screwed up. It’s been screwed up since the dawn of the human race. For all our lauded intelligence and sophistication, we make a mess of things. And people get hurt. People get tired. People get fed up with it.
Our Gospel lesson today is proof of that. We are in what I call jokingly the “Broadway Musical” portion of the Gospel of Luke, the first two chapters where it is not unusual for characters to spontaneously burst into song as though they’re on stage somewhere. This lesson is no exception. Mary goes to visit Elizabeth, the future mother of John the Baptist. After the two exchange greetings, Mary begins to sing. A wonderful piece we know now as the Magnificat.
When I preached on this text a few years ago, I called this song the first punk rock song. Punk, of course, was the musical movement that extended a big obscene gesture at the way of the world (and it was, quite often, obscene). It was angry. Fed up. Frustrated at life. But look at the lyrics of the Magnificat. This is not a happy song. It is angry. It is fed up. It is frustrated at life. Mary wants change. Mary wants things fixed. Mary wants life to work the way it’s supposed to again.
Mary looked to God to deliver on his promise of a redeemer. It is not entirely ironic that God’s answer to that prayer was in her womb.
There is one consolation in all this. We are not alone.
Pundits everywhere at utterly baffled by the success of Donald Trump and Bernie Sanders on the right and left respectively of our political spectrum. These outsiders are taking the upcoming election by storm. This isn’t hard to figure out. I get it. People are ticked off. People are tired. They’re sick of life running them over. They want something different, radically so. Whether that sentiment is prudent or wise is another matter entirely, but I sure understand what’s behind all this. They want change. They want things fixed. They want life to work the way it’s supposed to again.
But there is one consolation in all this. We are not alone in feeling this way.
These emotions are nothing new. Nor is the fact that the world is screwed up. It’s been screwed up since the dawn of the human race. For all our lauded intelligence and sophistication, we make a mess of things. And people get hurt. People get tired. People get fed up with it.
Our Gospel lesson today is proof of that. We are in what I call jokingly the “Broadway Musical” portion of the Gospel of Luke, the first two chapters where it is not unusual for characters to spontaneously burst into song as though they’re on stage somewhere. This lesson is no exception. Mary goes to visit Elizabeth, the future mother of John the Baptist. After the two exchange greetings, Mary begins to sing. A wonderful piece we know now as the Magnificat.
When I preached on this text a few years ago, I called this song the first punk rock song. Punk, of course, was the musical movement that extended a big obscene gesture at the way of the world (and it was, quite often, obscene). It was angry. Fed up. Frustrated at life. But look at the lyrics of the Magnificat. This is not a happy song. It is angry. It is fed up. It is frustrated at life. Mary wants change. Mary wants things fixed. Mary wants life to work the way it’s supposed to again.
Mary looked to God to deliver on his promise of a redeemer. It is not entirely ironic that God’s answer to that prayer was in her womb.
It is perhaps one of the greatest tragedies of history that Christianity has become a bastion of tradition and the established order. But that’s not what it was meant to be. Jesus did not come to leave things as they were, to change nothing about the world, to leave it just the same, to not clean up the mess we made. He came to put everything right. He came to change things. He came to fix things. He came to make life work the way it’s supposed to again.
Jesus came because people were fed up. Jesus came because people were hurting. Jesus came because people were dying. Remember how I said that our one consolation is that we not alone in being fed up about things? SO IS GOD.
He’d fed up too. So he sent his son into this world to put things right. Jesus lived, died, and rose again to do exactly that. To bring an end to pain and suffering. To put death under heel. This is whole Christian story. It is not a story of comfortable status quo. It is a radical transformation of the world from what it is to what it was always meant to be.
So as we look to the coming of our Lord, let’s be frustrated. Let’s be tired. Because God is too. He wants the world set right. Christ is his answer. Christ who lived, died, and rose again for you and for the whole world. To bring an end to this mess. And slowly but surely things are being set right. Slowly but surely, the world is righting itself. God has seen to it. Hold on to that hope. It is coming. Amen.
Jesus came because people were fed up. Jesus came because people were hurting. Jesus came because people were dying. Remember how I said that our one consolation is that we not alone in being fed up about things? SO IS GOD.
He’d fed up too. So he sent his son into this world to put things right. Jesus lived, died, and rose again to do exactly that. To bring an end to pain and suffering. To put death under heel. This is whole Christian story. It is not a story of comfortable status quo. It is a radical transformation of the world from what it is to what it was always meant to be.
So as we look to the coming of our Lord, let’s be frustrated. Let’s be tired. Because God is too. He wants the world set right. Christ is his answer. Christ who lived, died, and rose again for you and for the whole world. To bring an end to this mess. And slowly but surely things are being set right. Slowly but surely, the world is righting itself. God has seen to it. Hold on to that hope. It is coming. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment