|
|
|
|
|
|
Garrison Keillor, he of "The Prairie Home Companion", tells a story about folks coming home to Lake Wobegon for Christmas. It's a short one and goes as follows: "All these folks who have grown up and moved away become all smart and sophisticated; they think they've outgrown Lake Wobegon. But at Christmas time they make their way reluctantly back home. Father Emil at Our Lady of Perpetual Responsibility Catholic Church really lets them have it for not living up to their vows, in spite of it being Christmas. Then Father Emil describes Larry Sorenson coming back to the Lutheran Church. "Larry the Sad Boy was there at Christmas; Larry, who was saved twelve times in the Lutheran Church, an all-time record. Between 1953 and 1961, he threw himself weeping and contrite on God's throne of grace on twelve separate occasions -- and this in a Lutheran church that wasn't evangelical, had no altar call, no organist playing 'Just As I Am without One Plea,' while the choir hummed and a guy with shiny hair took hold of your heartstrings and played you like a cheap guitar -- this is the Lutheran church, not a bunch of hillbillies -- these are Scandinavians, and they repent in the same way that they sin: discreetly, tastefully, and at the proper time, and bring a Jell-O salad for afterward. "Larry Sorenson came forward weeping buckets and crumpled up at the communion rail, to the amazement of the minister, who had delivered a dry sermon about stewardship, and who now had to put his around this limp, soggy individual and pray with him and see if he had a ride home. Twelve times. Even the fundamentalists got tired of him. "Granted we're born in original sin and are worthless and vile, but twelve conversions is too many," said Father Emil. "God didn't mean us to feel guilt all our lives," he said. "There comes a point when you should dry your tears and join the building committee and start grappling with the problems of the church furnace and the church roof and make church coffee and be of use, but Larry kept on repenting and repenting." Funny story. Change Lutheran to Episcopalian and it still fits. It fits not because we may be discreet and tasteful when we sin, and do so at the proper time. But it fits because all too often we can spend most of our time repenting and precious little time rising up from our repenting and being of use to someone or something. Advent, which is almost over, is the time for repentance, much like Lent. If we have done precious little repenting by now, by now it's too late. And if we have used this time wisely, well and good. But in either case, it is now time to get on with it; on with rising up and living out this faith of ours. As Keillor hints, even fundamentalists have a limit on the amount of conversions possible before tiring of the whole process. And yet, we can never get away from the need for repentance, get away from the need for falling on our knees to confess our sins, only to rise up to do some good, only to have to fall on our knees once again. Or, as the Collect this morning reminds us, of the continual need to purify ourselves so that God may find in us a mansion prepared for him to live in. Maybe we're all Larry Sorensons at heart. There's a story about an eight-year-old named Annie who was in a Christmas pageant like the one our children will put on at the 10:30 Service this morning. Annie had to take three parts because the Sunday School class was small. She was the three wise men. In the pageant she stalked across the stage as if she were riding on a camel, bowed to Mary and Joseph, to baby Jesus, to the Angel, and announced, "I am all three wise men. I bring precious gifts: gold, circumstance and mud." Gold, circumstance and mud: that pretty well describes our condition, doesn't it? The gold reminds us that we are so enmeshed in materialism that it all but chokes to death the breath of the spirit of Christmas. We are all often victimized by circumstances beyond our control, circumstances that are so far from what we might wish, circumstances that push the meaning of Christmas far into the background. And we are covered with mud, the mud of divisions, injustices, war, sin – our own and others -- loneliness and despair, mud that is splattered over all our good intentions. Gold, circumstance and mud. No wonder we need to repent. No wonder we need to rise up from those knees of repentance and get on with it; get on with removing the mud that cakes our minds and hearts and limits our abilities to live the life that our faith in Jesus asks us to live; get on with getting rid of those cares and concerns that surround us, that prevent us from living out our life of faith. As Christians, we are in a constant state of movement: from getting splattered with mud or being overcome by circumstances beyond our control or from immersing ourselves in materialism, to falling on our knees, to rising up, to getting splattered with mud, to falling on our knees again. What keeps us going and keeps us coming back for more, I suspect, is this faith of ours that some how in some way gives us the strength we need. The Advent and Christmas Season is a time for going home, for repenting, for falling on our knees and rising up again. It's Larry Sorenson's time. It's the Magi's time. It is your time and my time too. May we rejoice and be glad in it.
|
