The Hope of Christmas Future: Death-Defying Acts (Sunday, December 18th, 2016)

Bible Reference(s): Luke 4:18-19

Sermon by Rev. Terri Thorn

The dramatic reading for today should have come with a spoiler alert - it gave away the happy ending to the sermon series! Then again, we had a pretty good idea what would happen when Scrooge woke up on Christmas morning, right? We knew he would be a changed man - with new priorities and a different perspective. After visits from his dead business partner, Jacob Marley, as well as the Christmas Ghosts of Past, Present and Yet to Come, we know his life of utter misery will be transformed to one of abundant joy. Scrooge will not miss Christmas - not the day, nor the meaning, nor the opportunity to rejoice and share in the joy. Right?

We all know that this is how the Dickens' classic ends. Still, we never get tired of hearing it. It is a timeless story that speaks to us...probably because it teaches us some important lessons about our own lives.

After all, there is a little bit of Scrooge in all of us. We all have our selfish moments. Our priorities get sidetracked. As the church, we forget our holy purpose...we forget what it means to be God's people. We sometimes allow fear to be the driving force in our decision-making or to shape our responses toward others. Not to mention, at this time of the year, a number of us get way, way too busy and lose sight of what is really important in life. We become scrooge-like in our attempts to make Christmas celebrations perfect...or to avoid them at all costs.

It's safe to say that we've all been in that place where we know that something in our life needs to change. And, if truth be told, that "something" is usually our own thinking. We reach the point where we long to leave the rat race and seek meaning and purpose instead. We yearn to exchange our misery and fear for joy and peace. We desire relationships to be right and real.

We wish things could be different - better -- in our lives and in the world. In other words, most of us have reached the point (perhaps more than once) when we admit that we need someone to keep us from the inevitable train-wreck that we are setting up with our own de-railed lives.

After the visits of the first two Christmas Ghosts Scrooge starts to acknowledge this about his own life. The light of truth, if you will, was starting to shine. Scrooge slowly realizes that his miserly obsession with accumulating wealth...and his lack of compassion for others...did not bring him any joy. He was on a path he no longer wanted to travel.

In fact, he even says to the faceless and silent Ghost of the Future, "I fear you more than any specter I have seen. But as I know your purpose is to do me good, and as I hope to live to be another man from what I was, I am prepared to bear you company, and do it with a thankful heart."

It's interesting, don't you think, that Scrooge is both fearful of the ghost of the future, yet acknowledges that the spirit's purpose is to his good? It's as if he knows that he's not necessarily going to enjoy this trip...yet he also understands that it's essential for the transformation he seeks. Sort of how one feels when forced to look in the mirror of life - gotta see it in order to change it.

Of course, at this point, Scrooge has no idea what the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come is going to reveal...only that he must peer into the darkness and face the truth that he discovers. Scrooge must journey into the darkness with the Ghost of Yet to Come, not so that he might be scared into changing his life, but so he can see the emptiness of where his love of money will lead. (Rawles, p. 115).

The real tragedy that Scrooge discovers is not that he will die, but how others have experienced him as he lived. He learns that he has no true friends...no meaningful relationships. He has only money that he cannot take with him...and things that will be pawned for scrap. He will die alone...cold and empty-hearted. There will be no eulogy of his life, no grieving family members, and no legacy for his company or his name.

The complete meaninglessness of his life scares him much more than the reality of his future death.

I would imagine that is true for most of us. Living with a sense of purpose and community seems to be one of the most powerful desires of humanity. We want our lives to have mattered...to someone. The possibility we might someday learn that we missed the mark...that it was all for naught...is quite frightening. As is the thought that it might be too late to change who we are and how we live...that we're too far down the tracks to alter our course.

In fact, this is the fear that seems to preoccupy Scrooge the most. He wrestles with it as he dialogues with himself. Is there any chance for a different tomorrow? I say Scrooge "dialogues" with himself because, we're told that the Ghost of Yet to Come is silent throughout his entire visit. Never once does he speak to Scrooge. Yet so much is revealed in the silence. Scrooge reasons and rationalizes and pleads...with the silence...searching for a glimmer of hope that there could be different outcome in his life.

"Before I draw nearer to that stone to which you point," said Scrooge, "answer me one question. Are these the shadows of the things that WILL be, or are they the shadows of things that May be, only?"

Silence.

"Men's courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which, if persevered in, they must lead," said Scrooge. But if the courses be departed from, the ends will change. Say it is thus with what you show me."

Silence.

"Why show me this if I am past all hope?"

Silence.

Good Spirit, Your nature intercedes for me, and pities me. Assure me that I yet may change these shadows you have shown me, by an altered life."

More silence.

"I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all year. I will live in the Past, the Present and the Future. The Spirits of all three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach. Oh, tell me that I may sponge away the writing on this stone!"

Deafening silence.

Scrooge longed for the Spirit to speak to him and reassure him. It would have been easier that way. Not to mention, there is comfort in having someone tell us what we want to hear. But there's also something very powerful about the silence of our lives that speaks louder than any voice. Silence is uncomfortable. Silence can make us restless. In fact, if I were to ask for a minute of silence right now, I'm confident that within 30 seconds someone would be looking at their watch to see if it was almost over. Imagine if we were silent for 5-10-15 minutes. Many of us don't get that much in a given week, much less a single day. There are just too many sounds in the background. Yet, holy silence makes room for us to hear God.

Silence can also be quite frightening..maybe because we're afraid of being alone with our own thoughts...or perhaps we're afraid of being alone with God. Silence forces us to do both. Absent of the world's noise...without competing voices...including our own...holy silence is the place into which the small still voice of God speaks. Silence allows us to set aside our anxious thoughts and allow ourselves to reflect on the Past, Present and Future from a perspective of hope. To resist judgment -- of ourselves and others. To evaluate our priorities. To consider needs for compassion. To breathe in peace. To rest in the assurance of love.

It was in the silence that Scrooge was able to hear the desire of his own heart. He admitted that he desperately wanted to reverse the course upon which he was headed. He longed for a second chance...a better way...a new life.

And in the light of Christmas morning, Scrooge wakes up to find that he has been given all this and more. Light has overcome the darkness of his long night. He wakes with hope for his future. His wretched life has been redeemed. Showing love and compassion become his purpose in life. And in doing so, his soul finds peace.

Folks, the joy of Scrooge's Christmas morning is not unique to this classic tale...in fact, it reflects the joy of a greater story...our faith story...the Christmas story that unfolds before us every year. Dickens' Christmas Carol captures the eternal promise of Christmas -- it is never, ever too late for a different tomorrow. Nothing, on all the earth, is ever beyond the redemptive power of God's grace revealed in Jesus Christ.

So, as we head into this last week before Christmas...this crazy busy season of checklists and last minute details, try taking of a few minutes of silence every day. Experience the peace and joy of Christmas...ponder the story we already know.

Let the joy of silence fill you as you consider the miracle of Christmas...on that night in Bethlehem, a baby was born...the Word of God incarnate in flesh...a coming together of Past, Present and Future...to bring the light of hope into every corner of darkness...to offer love unconditionally...to instill peace in our hearts...and to fill the world with the joy even in all our brokenness.

This week, quietly look for the promise that wherever the light of Christ is, the poor will receive good news, captives are released, the blind see, and the oppressed are set free. Rejoice in the miracle that in the light Christ's love, the past loses its power to bind us...that by Christ's compassion for us, our appreciation for common humanity increases in the here and now. Rejoice the miracle that in the presence of Christ's mercy, the yet-to-come future is a source of joy, not fear.

Friends, this week, let the joy of silence fill you as you receive the miracle of Christmas in your own heart...knowing that when Christ enters, redemption happens...in Scrooge...in you...in me...in all of us. God bless us, everyone.