“It’s Now or Never”

Homily for the Fourth Sunday of Advent  22 December 2019

Trinity Episcopal Church, Topsfield, Massachusetts

The Rev’d John R. Clarke, Bridge Priest

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night.”

No need to Google it. Everyone knows that’s St. Nick’s parting shot from “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas.”

Now, it’s not quite the “night before Christmas,” but with under three shopping days remaining, it’s now or never if we’re going to wade into this whole “Merry Christmas” vs. “Happy Holidays” mess everyone with an axe to grind has their knickers in a twist about.

So, as we lurch inexorably toward the Christmas meltdown, just how are you going to extend greetings of the season?

St. Nick’s all-points "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night"? Slim it down and you get “Merry Christmas!”

Or do we expand our best wishes for the season to be more inclusive? Something like “Happy Holidays”?

Well, if you choose the “Merry Christmas” option, it all depends on what you mean … how you mean it … and to whom you say it.

That requires getting into motives — maybe even agendas — when we express best wishes of the season in stores, at the mall, at the post office, here in the parish, among friends, among strangers ... total strangers.

Read: How likely are you to be the perpetrator in an incident like the one outside a Phoenix, Arizona Walmart a few seasons back?

Salvation Army volunteer Kristina Vindiola was doing what the Salvation Army folks do this time of year. She was ringing a bell and had a red kettle prepped to receive donations to fund the Salvation Army’s charitable work: feeding the poor … caring for the lonely … clothing people down on their luck. In other words, helping our neighbors who have fallen into the cracks.

Truth-in-advertising: This isn’t a plug for the Salvation Army. I’m not at all keen on their anti-LGBTQ stances. No, not at all. Your mileage may vary.

Nevertheless, clanging her bell and staffing her kettle, Kristina Vindiola wished a passerby “Happy Holidays!” The woman reeled around and snarled, “You’re supposed to say, ‘Merry Christmas!’” And no-sooner-than-you-can-say, “Blessed are the peacemakers,” she hauls off and slugs Vindiola, knocking her to the ground.

Triggering the question: On a scale of 1 to 10, how likely are you to be charged with assault-and-battery if someone wishes you “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas”?

Because this incident has me just gobsmacked. I’m wondering why “Merry Christmas” is such a sacred cow — you might even say, idol — to some people.

So, I’ve done a quick survey of news stories, blogs, and what passes for critical thinking by the pundits on Fox yelling the loudest this season of peace, love, and joy.

And my admittedly unscientific survey suggests three possible meanings behind the greeting “Merry Christmas”: political … commercial … and Christ-centered.

First, “Merry Christmas” as politics.

What does that sound like? It begins with the president boasting, “Thanks to me, you can now say ‘Merry Christmas’ again.” I can’t tell you what that even means, but I do know it plays funny with the Constitution.

Reality: This is nothing less than a skirmish in the so-called “War on Christmas” or, “War on Christianity.” It’s an utter fabrication. It has absolutely nothing at all to do with religion. And everything to do with politics and ginning up the base.

Proof? No one — least of all the government — has parked a tank on the parish lawn. Trust me. It’s the sort of thing you notice.

And those stories you hear about Nativity crèches being banned from public buildings? For the life of me, I can’t think what they’re doing there in the first place.

Do we erect crucifixes on Statehouse property on Good Friday? Statues of Buddha on Buddha’s birthday? Or Krishna’s. Or the Mormons’ Joseph Smith?

More to the point: Would you want your heard-earned tax dollars used to clutter up public property with symbols of sects you don’t believe in … or religions you consider downright heretical, even satanic?

Meaning: What’s under attack isn’t Christianity. What’s under attack is privilege — privilege bestowed by the accidents of history.

That’s because some of these folks who’ve had it pretty good since 1776 are feeling a loss of privilege: the perceived right of some to clobber all with their brand of Christianity.

It seems, however, Jesus has a few things to say about privilege, like, “The last shall be first, and the first shall be last.”

And what Jesus has to say on this score has everything to do with how we say “Merry Christmas” and to whom.

For example, to those who communicate an in-your-face “Merry Christmas” — bullying total strangers, I ask, “Where ― in that ― is Jesus … Jesus, who suffered and died at the hands of bullies?”

What, then, about the commercial meaning of “Merry Christmas”?

Factoid: Except for the crèche ― courtesy of mild-mannered St. Francis of Assisi ― and St. Nicholas ― now a bleached bloviation of the olive-complected fourth-century Bishop of Myra (in present-day Turkey) … and except for a smattering of carols and chorales, just about all the trappings we have of Christmas today are the products of 19^th and 20^th century merchandising.

In other words, “Merry Christmas” means good business.

So, I have a problem when sales personnel are ordered to wish customers, “Merry Christmas.” Because all I’m hearing is “Fa-la-la-la-la! Ka-ching, ka-ching!”

But all is not lost. Plotting a course through the minefield of “Merry-Christmas” as bad politics and good business, a lot of people — and I mean a lot — have been circulating on social media the “Happy Holidays Meme.” It’s gone viral because the optics are good and the sentiment appears to make so much sense.

The optics: It’s a JPEG of a sheet of paper torn from a legal pad. The text is handwritten in block letters, a different rainbow color for each statement:

I don’t understand what the big deal is.

If you’re Jewish, wish me “Happy Hanukkah.”

If you’re Christian, wish me “Merry Christmas.”

If you’re African-American, wish me “Joyous Kwanzaa.”

If you don’t prefer those, wish me “Happy Holidays.” I will not be offended. I will be thankful you took the time to say something nice to me.

Look, great sentiments. But there’s a problem: They don’t reflect Jesus’ idea of hospitality to strangers. And Jesus is where we’re coming from, at least.

That is, the meme puts the focus on the disposition of the greeter (let’s say, a salesperson). “If you, salesperson, are Jewish … if you are Christian … if you are African-American and so on … wish me, the customer ….”

So, I’d like to flip it to shift the focus from the greeter to the person being greeted. That is, from the customer's point of view:

If you can tell I’m an observant Jew, wish me “Happy Hanukkah.”

If you can tell I’m a follower of Jesus, wish me “Merry Christmas.”

If you know I celebrate Kwanzaa, wish me “Joyous Kwanzaa.”

In the absence of any other data? Wish me “Happy Holidays.”

And if you don’t wish me anything … who … cares?!! Life is too short to shorten it further by carrying around a chip on your shoulder!

Because the point isn’t politics. It isn’t sales revenues. For us — as followers of Jesus — it’s funneling all our energy into Jesus’ take on Christmas … Jesus’ take on any holiday, any day:

If you can tell I’m hungry, give me food.
If you can tell I’m thirsty, give me something to drink.
If you can tell I’m a stranger, welcome me.
If you can tell I’m shy a warm coat in the shivering cold, give me clothing.
If you can tell I’m sick, help me get well.
If I’m in prison, visit me.

Bottom line: Nothing. Else. Matters … when we mean what we believe: “God bless us … everyone!”

Amen.

"Crazy for Castanets"

Homily for the Feast of Christ the King  24 November 2019

St John’s Episcopal Church, Gloucester, Massachusetts

The Rev’d John R. Clarke, Guest Celebrant and Preacher

And the people stood by, watching.  Luke 23:35a

Sometimes, you’ve got no choice. Ask Gene Kelly and Cyd Charisse in “Singin’ in the Rain.” Sometimes you “g-o-o-o-o-tta dance.”

Proof? I’m not sure Teresa of Ávila could hold a candle to Cyd Charisse, but one gray day in the bone-chilling cold of her unheated convent — during the one hour she allowed the sisters to gather for recreation — Teresa shocked the life out of every last one of them.

Without introduction, without warning, without so much as a “5-6-7-8,” Teresa leaps to her feet, grabs her castanets from the far reaches of her habit, and launches into a “Dancing with the Stars”-worthy flamenco.

The look on the other nuns’ faces? “Well, that was unexpected!” Teresa’s defense? “Some days, you’ve got to do something to make life bearable!”

“You’ve got to do something. Someone has got to do something … to make life bearable!” Certainly, that was on the minds of those who eye-witnessed Jesus — victimized Jesus — being led to Jerusalem’s “killing field,” nailed to the cross, and hoisted high for maximum and prolonged murderous effect.

Given the injustice of the whole affair, who among us, looking on, wouldn’t be thinking, “Someone has got to do something”? That someone being God. Surely God would intervene. God would have to do something.

But that “something” did not materialize that day. And — that day — hard reality prevailed. The power of the State was just too strong for ordinary people — paralyzed by grief, shock, and despair — to mount organized resistance.

Result? Luke tells us: “The people stood by, watching.”

And we’re now caught in a similar, standing-by, watching moment. What are we standing-by, watching?

Newly-released data: A record number of migrant children held in US government custody over the past 12 months: 69,550. Enough infants, toddlers, kids, and teens to overflow the typical NFL stadium, putting each of those children at risk of long-term physical and emotional damage. A hate crime by any measure.

Other hate crimes: According to a report released by the FBI two weeks ago, an alarming 12 percent uptick in hate crimes involving violence for 2018. Driving the surge? Domestic terrorism linked to white supremacist activity.

Digging deeper:

A nearly 14 percent increase in hate crimes against Latinos in 2018.

An 18 percent increase in anti-LGBTQ hate crimes.

27 percent of all hate crimes in 2018 — the largest share among all categories — motivated by anti-black bias.

And, given base-baiting, extremist rhetoric from the highest office in the land, it’s not surprising that reported hate crimes motivated by religious bias accounted for 20 percent. Of those incidents, the lion’s share — 57.8 percent — were anti-Jewish, with anti-Islamic (anti-Muslim) a distant — but no less troubling — 14.5 percent.

Looking at these numbers — and the upward trajectory of these numbers — is it unreasonable for our Jewish and Muslim neighbors, for immigrants, women, and LGBTQ persons to suspect that in the next 12 months conditions — for them — for many of us — may become unbearable?

Leading us to side with Teresa of Ávila: “Some days, you’ve got to do something to make life bearable.”

Or, as Elie Wiesel said (and he knew a thing or two about standing up for a victimized neighbor): “We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.”

Supporting factoid: Neutrality was never Jesus’ strong suit. Jesus took sides. Jesus’ project was a study in dissent. Nonviolent dissent … with the exception of his attack against exploitation by the religious-political apparatus, when he targeted the moneychangers in the Temple. Yes, three words come to mind: Out. Of. Control. But, it could be argued that was more street theater than a cruisin’-for-a-bruisin’ riot.

Pushing us to conclude: As followers of Jesus — Jesus, who relentlessly advocated for the rights of our neighbors — we have no other option than to resist. We have no other option than to resist nonviolently when our neighbors’ well-being, freedom, and rights are threatened. Standing by and watching is not an option now because when we sing “Lift every voice and sing till earth and heaven ring, ring with the harmonies of liberty,” we ain’t just whistlin’ “Dixie”!

Read: Against those who are turning bigotry into action, for followers of Jesus, activism is the answer.

Now, we don’t have castanets (or my hunch is most of us don’t). But we do have awareness, frustration, anger … and opportunity. What then, will we do? What will you do?

Well, where can you push back — in real time — in the moment — to overcome bigotry, racism, misogyny, and homophobia?

This Thursday is Thanksgiving, but it always applies: When a bloviating uncle (or whoever) — in the throes of alcoholic euphoria — makes degrading comments about a minority or women (like profiles-in-courage Marie Yovanovitch and Fiona Hill), push back … with respect, but firmly. Don’t let the swipe slide. Call it what it is: racism, sexism, homophobia, anti-Semitism, anti-Muslim bigotry … whatever fits. Name it. Name where you stand — and this is key — as a follower of Jesus. Do something!

But if that sounds like a bridge too far — maybe you’re afraid of curdling the gravy, I dunno —  here’s another way to frame it … from the lips of Jesus, who said famously: “Just as you did it — gave me food when I was hungry … something to drink when I was thirsty … gave me clothing when I was naked … took care of me when I was sick … visited me when I was incarcerated — just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”

Consider, then, a member of Jesus’ family — a neighbor — who might say:

I’m an illegal immigrant. ICE agents tell me they’re going to tear me away from my children, who were born here. They’re Dreamers. Is this what it means to “Make America Great Again”? I’m Jesus. Do something. Make my life bearable.

Or: I’m a Muslim-American woman in Walmart. Someone is shouting, “Go back to where you came from.” I’m Jesus. Do something. Make my life bearable.

I’m a transgender person. My neighbors throw rocks at my house as they drive by at night: “Freak, we don’t want your kind here.” I’m Jesus. Do something. Make my life bearable.

I’m a parent worried that each day I send my child off to school, she’ll become another statistic in this country’s fevered obsession with guns-guns-guns. I’m Jesus. Do something. Make my life bearable.

Each and every one a neighbor pleading with us not to stand by and watch … but to do something … neither hedging nor passing the buck … but in very real, generous and daring and brave ways … in real time … making things good-better-best for real people.

… because Captain Jean-Luc Picard and the crew of the Starship Enterprise got it right and proved the Borg wrong: Resistance isn’t futile.

Bottomline: Lobby. Cajole. Blog. Tweet. Stand up. Speak out. Push back. Donate. Vote. Resist. Resist. Resist. Do something to make life bearable!

Amen.