St. Andrew's-Wesley United Church

Rev. Gary Paterson

December 7, 2008

At 1 o’clock today the annual Vancouver Santa Claus parade begins. And this year, strangely enough, St. Andrew’s-Wesley has entered a float – a replica of our church, complete with stained glass windows, that will go gliding down Georgia and up Howe St. on the back of a thirty-foot flat-bed truck. This mini-church will be filled with members of our gospel choir, – the ones we blessed earlier in the service and sent on their merry, evangelical way – who will be belting out a seemingly endless trio of “Joy to the World”, “Go Tell It on the Mountain”, and “The Virgin Mary Had a Baby Boy”. On the back of the truck – an in-the-flesh Nativity scene; and on the pavement level, an eager group handing out invitations to join us for Advent and Christmas worship. I was told by the organizers of our float to keep the sermon short, so that you’ll all have time for a quick coffee after service to keep you warm, and then you can head out to join the crowd on the float.

Now, if you want a short sermon, Mark is a good gospel to work from. He doesn’t waste any time getting into the thick of things – for Mark there is no Bethlehem; no shepherds and angels; no wisemen following a star; no Mary and Joseph; in fact, no baby Jesus. No, Mark announces the good news of Jesus Christ by starting his gospel off with John the Baptist in the centre of the stage. You remember John – a wild kind of guy, long beard, lots of hair… doesn’t believe in a comb or brush. Retro clothing style, harking back to Elijah the prophet of olden times… a camel-hair jacket, complete with leather belt; no, let’s be more honest… we’re talking camel skin that you could probably smell from twenty feet away. And if you got much closer, you’d probably be knocked off your feet by John’s halitosis, what with his preferred a diet of locusts and wild honey.

John was a prophet – loud, critical, in your face; filled with scolding, scalding words that poured out in a full-on rant; hot, raw – John the Voice, that’s how I think of him, calling for our confession and repentance. What was the phrase Mark used to sum up John’s message? … oh yeah -- “proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” He was always shouting, “Prepare the way of the Lord; make his pathways straight.” Eventually he got some people so riled up that they cut off his head.

I proposed to the float organizers that perhaps I could participate in the parade by representing John the Baptist. I would don my poncho… not camel hair, but good ol’ Brackendale sheep’s wool, and with a bit of rain, the heavy smell of lanolin would convince any nearby folk that I had just come in from the wilderness. I did draw the line at munching locusts, but I thought I could work up a good rant… “You sinners! Confess! The time has come to REPENT!! And a merry Christmas to you all.” Once I got going, I would start demanding that we pay attention to the homeless, the hungry; I would really get up a head of steam about the commercialization of Christmas, and the wild excesses of consumerism. “Repent!! Repent!!” And if I happened to bump into Santa himself, well there’s no telling what might happen. I was getting quite excited, but the organizers… well, they thought about terrified children, irate parents, and loud shouts of “Kill joy! Lighten up! Get a life!” They convinced me that it would be better if I just sang along with the choir.

Strange though, isn’t it, that Mark kept calling John’s message “good news.” And he sure seemed to be drawing in the crowds. Which suggests that maybe we need to take a closer look at what John is saying. Maybe confession isn’t all that bad a thing – especially if you understand confession to be all about honesty… you know, those “take-a-good-look-in-the-mirror” moments, when you see yourself as you really are, a mixture of good and not-so-good, a coming together of hopes and dreams, and failures and disappointments; the you that lives behind the pretending and rationalizations… the real you. And maybe repentance isn’t all that bad either – if you understand that to mean a change of direction in your life. Confession and repentance—they carry a bad “rep” because of stereotyped notions of revivalist preaching; but just maybe they can open up the door to a different kind of Christmas.

I talk to so many people who feel overwhelmed by the Christmas Tsunami; they see this giant wave racing towards them as they’re standing on the beach, with cards not written, presents not purchased, parties not organized. They feel pressured, frenetic; and all around are relentless messages to be “merry” even when feeling sad, lonely, broke. Surely the gift of Advent is to help us get in touch with something different… to be aware of the sense of longing that rests at the heart of this Christmas season… a yearning for warmth, wonder, love, a hallowing of our lives; a hunger for holiness.

There’s a book that I glance at every Advent… it’s called Unplug the Christmas Machine (by Jo Robinson & Jean Coppock Staeheli) I love the image – even if I’m not always successful in following the suggestion. The authors point out that the Machine knows how to woo us by speaking to the deepest desires of our hearts (pp.9-11). If it were only a monster it would be much easier to unplug. But the commercial messages of Christmas appear as promises that bring tears to our eyes -- families happy together, children laughing and well-behaved; spouses thoughtful and caring; enough time, enough money – always lots of money. I’ve never seen an advertisement that presents a single mother breaking down in tears in despair at how she can make ends meet. No, these ads are clever; they lure us with hopes of fun, warmth, family, safety, and, above all, love.

The only problem is that the messaging is trying to convince us that what we desire can only be satisfied by the buying and selling of goods… and endless stream of expensive presents, as if this will prove our love, as if this will make us and others happy. There’s a new book that has just been published through the United Church –Overturning the Tables: Consumerism, Children and the Church, written by Julie Kinkaid, where she examines how our children are being trained to be good consumers. She writes, “Consumerism is not about shopping – because we all need to buy things, but it is the belief we get from marketing’s messages that buying more and more stuff is necessary to fulfill our longings and desires.” And that’s what she’s critical of. I think John the Baptism would say “Amen!”

Maybe that’s why we’re in the Santa Claus parade…. to suggest to people that there is another way to celebrate Christmas; maybe we do need to overturn the tables, unplug the machine. I saw a cartoon in yesterday’s paper, “For Better For Worse” by Lynn Patterson. There’s Elly and Michael at the mall, looking overwhelmed; and little Michael turns to his Mum and asks, “If Christmas is more about God than Santa… how come people talk more about Santa than God?” And his mother responds, “God does less advertising.”

Maybe that’s why we’re in the Santa Claus parade – to invite people to ask the question, “What is it I really want from Christmas?” and then, “How might that happen?” Interesting how John the Baptist keeps talking about the need to “prepare the way”. Maybe that’s what Advent is all about – asking questions, and changing the way we prepare for Christmas so that we might re-discover the holiness that lies at the heart of it all.

Our float in the parade is not, however, simply an exercise in criticism, pointing out the excesses of the season. Lord knows, we need celebration in these winter days -- there’s nothing wrong with marking the solstice with an affirmation of light, and warm and life. We are not just “against”… anti-commercialization, anti-consumerism, anti-Santa Claus; celebration is good! But it needs to be honest and real; and I believe it needs to be connected with the One who makes it all possible. Our float is a statement that the world’s deepest joy is being evoked in the story of the birth of the Christ, the one who comes into our midst, who is flesh of our flesh and bone of our bone.

This past week I saw the film “Milk” – the story of Harvey Milk, the gay activist of the 70’s, who was elected to the position of Councillor in the City of San Francisco, the first out gay person ever to be elected to public office. Now, there’s a modern day John the Baptist for you – in the film’s beginning he even looked like him, what the long hair and beard; and he sure sounded like him… another in-you-face kind of guy. But part way through the film Harvey Milk was challenged by a political opponent: “Harvey, you can’t just always be against things; you have to talk about what you’re for! What are you offering? You gotta give people something to hope for; they gotta have hope.” Exactly… and that’s why we’re in the Santa Claus parade – to offer hope.

The other day I received a Christmas card from Dave and Muriel Shaw – former members of the congregation who last spring moved up to Summerland to be with grandchildren. The card is a beautiful water-colour wash of blues, with an off-centre shaft of light moving from top to bottom, accompanied by very simple words: “In an unlikely place… unimaginable hope is born.” That’s why we’re in the Santa Claus parade… to gently proclaim our faith that an unimaginable hope was born in Bethlehem, a love-shaped, God-shaped hope, full of wonder and grace. As John the Voice said, we celebrate the one who will baptize us all with the Holy Spirit… with life, and power and love; the one who gives us hope.

This is supposed to be a short sermon, but I can’t finish without at least sharing one poem… by Ann Weems, from her book Kneeling in Bethlehem:

Into this silent night

as we make our weary way

we know not where;

just when the night becomes its darkest

and we cannot see our path;

just then is when the angels rush in,

their hands full of stars.

That’s why we’re in the Santa Claus parade… with our hands full of stars.