Seeker Cycle 2005 November
1st Sunday in November (Week 45) (John 11:1 – 12:11 and Acts 20:7-12)
Perhaps more than any other public holiday, Halloween reveals the anxiety of contemporary living. We have lived in an “Age of Reason” for about 300 years. In that world, we all believed that if only everybody could read, get a good education, and think objectively about truth, the world would get better and better. The good news about the Age of Reason was that it reduced religious superstitions and gave people confidence to create a better world. The bad news about the Age of Reason was that it reduced faith in God and made people arrogant that they could live life on their own.
Well, the Age of Reason is breaking down, and Halloween is resurgent. The bad news about Halloween is that we discover that religious superstition and fear of evil supernatural powers are rising again. The good news about Halloween is that people are ready to talk about God again and they are clear about their hope for grace. This is an opportunity to witness to God’s positive power and grace unequaled by any other holiday today.
We can’t live life to the fullest until we have confronted the reality of death. And we can’t live life with purpose until we have discovered who is Lord even over death.
Team Meditation (Acts 20:7-12)
There’s something about a meal. When Jesus raised up Jairus’ daughter from the dead, he told her parents to give her something to eat. When Jesus was resurrected, when he presented himself to the disciples, he asked them for food – or offered them breakfast. And here, when Eutychus was resurrected, Paul took him upstairs, they “broke bread” and they ate.
There’s something about a meal. Jesus took bread, broke it, and said, “This is my body.” He took wine, blessed it, and said, “This is my blood.” But we’re so uncomfortable with the imagery that in many of our liturgies we don’t refer to the blood. We bless “the cup.” We drink the “cup of salvation.” It wasn’t so very long ago that in the Roman Catholic Church only a priest could drink from the cup since it was so “holy” and mysterious that the communicants were excluded. But for us Protestants, well, it’s mostly just bread and cup.
There’s something about a meal. But what? Does it mean more than what meets the eye? Inquiring minds may want to know, but our rationalizing minds want to dismiss it all. It’s just a remembrance, a string around our finger to remind us that Jesus died – especially important since we’ve banished crucifixes from the Protestant church.
But rationalization is giving way to the mysterious – to the sacramental. A few years ago, any rational Mainliner was dismissive of all those so-called miracles going on in foreign countries. Exaggerations, the lot. And we still harbor some skepticism, but there’s a little glimmer of hope deep inside that makes us wonder if maybe, just maybe, something is going on that we’re missing out on. Like the Eutychuses of yesteryear.
There’s something about a meal. A sharing. Communion in community. Maybe it does mean more than what meets the eye. Maybe, just maybe, there’s something to the supernatural that’s beyond explanation.
Bill T-B
Worship Theme (John 11:1 – 12:11)
Life after death is still a mystery. After all these years, even after hearing the story of Jesus all our lives, the “hope” for eternal life seems as unsure as it’s ever been. Part of the uncertainty is because we’ve been raised in a society that claims if you can’t measure it, if you can’t validate the results by repeating the “proofs,” then it is, at best, and untested theory. At worst, it’s fraud.
It’s why there’s a fascination with those stories of the resuscitated – those near-death experiences we read about now and again. Have one of those and you can literally make your living on the speaker’s circuit.
Funny, though. Lazarus comes back to life and John didn’t bother to record Lazarus’ answer to all those questions he must have got. “Hey, Lazarus. You were dead three days. What was it like on the other side? Was there a bright light with someone calling out ‘Walk into the light, Laz-a-ruuuusssss. Walk into the light.’? Was it as good as they say? Did you meet God? Do angels have wings?”
Why doesn’t John answer all our questions? Not because it wasn’t an important event, nor because the questions aren’t important. John doesn’t fill give us more on Lazarus’ resurrection because Jesus’ resurrection answers all the important questions. Is there life after death? Jesus says, “Been there, done that.” What’s heaven like? “Like a palace with a lot of bedrooms – one for each of you.” What’s God like? “If you’ve seen me, you’ve seen God.” Is it good? “You betcha.”
In today’s world, interestingly enough, it’s easier to believe in ghosts than in God, in spells and incantations than in miracles. That may be why Halloween is more widely celebrated than Easter in North America.
Life after death is a reality for those who belong to Jesus. No ghosts, goblins, or demons hold sway over us. The problem is that it’s difficult to move that truth, that promise into our hearts. To take comfort in it. We carry too many unanswered questions. We want to be able to empirically prove it all – or at least speak to someone who’s visited the “other side.” The good news is we can – which is why John tells us more about Jesus’ resurrection than Lazarus’.
Bill T-B
Worship Planning (John 11:1 – 12:11)
Seeing is believing. Of course, that’s not really true. Seeing, measuring, testing, and proving aren’t there to bolster our belief, but our knowledge. Proofs don’t bring belief, faith brings belief. It seems that no matter what we experience – whether we see the parting of the Red Sea or the daily rain of manna, belief is easily lost and not so easily found.
Chris Rice’s song Questions for Heaven would make a good introductory song for the service; of course, there are many good musical selections on heaven – especially old Gospel tunes – that you can use.
To introduce the discussion around life after death, use a scene from the 2002 movie Signs. Use the clip where Rev. Graham Hess (Mel Gibson) is refuting life after death because of his wife’s seemingly random last words, “Tell Merrill to swing away.” The background to the scene is that Hess, who was an Episcopal priest, has lost his faith because of his wife’s death. In this particular scene, Hess is lamenting the randomness of his wife’s last words, that she didn’t see the angels or God coming for her as she died. Instead, the synapses in her brain simply fired and from her mouth came some irrelevant words.
Use the scene to discuss how easily faith is shaken in a world that tries to make sense of everything. Hess tries to make sense of his wife’s last words (which by the end of the movie do make sense) and loses his faith when he can’t. We try to understand life after death, so we turn to John Edwards’ show Crossing Over. We want to believe, but we want to experience proof. The good news – and (for some) the bad – is that one day we’ll have all the proof we need. Until then, Lazarus isn’t the story to cling to, Jesus’ is.
Bill T-B
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
2nd Sunday in November (Week 46) (2 Kings 4 and 5; Luke 4:31 – 5:26)
“And amazement seized them all, and they glorified God and were filled with awe, saying, "We have seen strange things today” (Luke 5:26)
People today are desperate to be “amazed”. We want to be astonished, confounded, surprised, and awestruck. We have lived so long in the “age of reason” that we have lost our capacity for amazement. We have even forgotten what it looks like. We confuse being frightened out of our wits with genuine awe. We replace ecstasy with mere lust. We want to remember past glory, but all we can manage to remember is past folly.
In early November, many western countries celebrate Remembrance Day (the armistice that ended the First World War). About 90 years after the war that changed the world as no other conflict in modern times, “remembrance” has lost its “amazement”. It has become a dreary recollection of past folly and false hope. That’s the problem with human innovation. It leads to armaments. It remembers death.
So we long to remember life. We long to be amazed, not by human folly, but by God’s extraordinary love. We want to recall deeds that are beyond the call of duty. We long to experience forgiveness that is beyond the boundaries of justice. We don’t want to remember the consequences of our actions; we long to see the consequences of God’s actions. God’s supernatural deeds are always about life … the giving of life, celebration of live, and the rescue of life. What amazes us is not just that they are beyond reason, but that they are beyond what we deserve.
Team Meditation (Luke 4:31-5:26)
The story is told of a North American pastor who was visiting a church in Central America. While he was there he saw bona fide miracles and was utterly amazed. Later, before he left for home, he asked the Central American pastor why he had never seen miracles at home, but here they were clearly taking place. The Central American pastor smiled and said, “In North America you have televisions, and cars, and houses, and Jesus. Here we only have Jesus.”
In these scripture passages the people were amazed at Jesus’ works of power. He cast out demons, he provided a bounty of fish, he healed the sick. His works drew a crowd. They were a sign for all to see. And people were drawn to him because of what they saw.
Later, Jesus would tell his disciples that they would have the ability to do all that they had seen him do – and that they would do even more. The book of Acts is filled with supernatural accounts from the casting out of demons, the healing of the sick, and the resurrection of the dead. Augustine would later write in The City of God of the many miracles he witnessed and could testify to in Hippo and the surrounding region. And so it goes throughout Christian history – except mostly in North America. Here, it seems, any miracle at all is, well, miraculous and often soundly discounted by both those outside and inside the church.
C. Peter Wagner in The Acts of the Holy Spirit suggests that the church even today is meant to be established by works of power – and, indeed, such stories abound in other nations where Christendom has not abounded. So, what’s the deal? Is it really our televisions, cars, and houses that get in the way of the Spirit? (for an interesting commentary on possessions and miracles, see the apocryphal work The Acts of Peter and Andrew)
If you’re looking for a definitive answer, this would not be the place to look. But, the participants in your congregation, the passersby, and the micro cultures of your community all want to experience the supernatural. They are hungry to know without a doubt that there’s something bigger than themselves “out there.” Jesus asked, “Which is easier: to say, 'Your sins are forgiven,' or to say, 'Get up and walk'?” You gotta wonder – which is it?
Bill T-B
Worship Theme (2 Kings 4-5)
When Elijah was given a lift to the heavenly realm via a flaming chariot, Elisha was given “a double portion” of his mentor’s spirit. This week’s reading is a recounting of a number of miracles at Elisha’s hand. Although Elijah became the paradigmatic prophet of the Israelites, his miraculous works barely flicker in comparison to Elisha’s miraculous deeds.
Though barely two weeks have passed since Halloween, the interest in the supernatural has hardly dimmed. Indeed, in today’s culture there appears to be a wholesale embrace of anything that may come from the realm beyond. The popularity of such television programs as Medium, Crossing Over, Lost, and ABC’s remake of Night Stalker are but indicators of the nation’s fascination with the paranormal.
One would think that Christianity would garner mass appeal, since it’s foundation is based on paranormal and supernatural events. But alas, our culture isn’t so much interested in stories from the past, but realities of today. The good news is that the renewed interest in the supernatural has led to a new openness to the miracle accounts of the Bible; whereas they were once largely considered antiquated myths, today’s generation is ready to look at the stories with renewed, less skeptical eyes...even if they continue to harbor great skepticism about the church.
In the Luke passage, Jesus forgives a paralyzed man to the perplexity of the crowd. Who can offer forgiveness but God alone? Jesus asks them whether it’s easier to say “Your sins are forgiven” or “Get up and walk”? Of course, we don’t know which is the “right” answer, since before they could speak Jesus heals the paralytic. But we do know the crowd was amazed.
As Tom said, people are looking to be amazed. They want to believe in a power, a being, a God who’s bigger than themselves. But mostly what they’ve experienced is sleight of hand, smoke and mirrors, and promises that fall short. Which leaves us with the question of the hour – what will it take to “amaze” those in our community today?
Bill T-B
Worship Design (2 Kings 4-5)
There’s a God-shaped vacuum in the heart of everyone. – Blaise Pascal
This is the week to go fishing for the micro cultures in your community. Virtually everyone is looking for an “amazing” experience of supernatural proportions and this is an opportunity to capitalize on that search.
Unless you have a practicing faith healer or another charismatically gifted person in your congregation, you will have to settle for one of the less showy, though more spectacular, miracles for your worship participants. Jesus’ question to the crowd about which is easier to say is a good question, but it’s not the most important question. That would be, “Which is more difficult to do – to heal or to forgive?”
This week’s worship will take a good bit of advanced preparation. First, gather transformational stories from your congregants. This is often easier said than done, but the results will be worth the effort. If you don’t readily know any of the congregant’s stories, simply ask around – especially of the long-timers: “Who in the congregation experienced a radical transformation through Jesus Christ?” Once you’ve ferreted out a number of them, go speak to these folks to verify the events and to get a feel for their passion about their transformation. Once you’ve gathered and heard a few stories, ask two or three of these folks to participate in a live interview during this week’s worship service.
Begin the service using the 1977 movie Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Use the clip where the military and scientific community is bemoaning the crowds of “common people” who are crowding their way near the landing site and David Laughlin (Bob Balaban) says, “We didn't choose this place! We didn't choose these people! They were invited!” Use the clip to introduce the apparent allure to the supernatural and the paranormal (perhaps it’s that God-shaped vacuum). From there, introduce the scriptures of the day, especially featuring the various miracles that Elisha wrought. Eventually, take the conversation to the Lukan passage and introduce the account of the paralytic’s healing. Deal especially with the miracle of forgiveness, perhaps speaking about the power forgiveness has in our lives.
The climax of the service should be the interviews with those who have experienced first-hand the transforming power of Jesus Christ. The point of the service, and especially the interviews, is to provide an invitation of some sort for those in attendance to experience the same kind of transformation. (I highly recommend not making this just a walk-down-the-aisle conversion kind of experience, but an invitation not only to the transforming presence of Jesus, but to experience an accountability and/discipleship group – belief doesn’t always translate into transformation, but behavioral change with belief generally does.)
Bill T-B
+++++++++++++++++++++++
3rd Sunday in November (Week 47) (1 John 3:11 – 5:5 and Luke 11:14-36)
“God is love.” Everybody believed God is love. It is a comfortable thing to believe, and a convenient thing to believe. If we believe God is love, we think we can. We think we can do whatever we want, and still be accepted. We can make up any excuse for even the worst behavior, and we will come to no harm.
Christians are different. We believe God is love … but God’s love is a particular kind of love.
It is sacrificial love. It is the kind of love that stakes everything, and risks anything, even what is absolutely most precious in our lives, even the life and well-being of our own children, for the sake of a total stranger or someone we absolutely dislike. It is love that will give up someone who deserves to be love, for the sake of somebody who does not deserve to be loved.
It is forgiving love. It is the kind of love that understands evil, and even suffers evil, yet without recrimination or vengeance. It is love that turns the other cheek … but only after the first cheek is already stinging with a slap in the face.
It is fearless love. It is love that is not afraid of rejection. It is love that dares a rebuke, and keeps on coming despite all resistance. It is love that is relentless and compassionate and purposeful. It is love that is going to bless us whether we like it or not.
There is one more way Christians differ from others in their believe that “God is love”. Christians believe that not only is God like this, but we are suppose to love like this, too. Love is never about me. It’s always about you.
Team Meditation (Luke 11:14-36)
"He who is not with me is against me, and he who does not gather with me, scatters.” (Luke 11:23 NIV)
Drawing a line in the sand is like throwing down a gauntlet. It’s a dare. A challenge. “Step across this line and I’ll show you!” The saying itself probably comes from an incident that took place in Egypt in 168 BC. Antiochus the king of Syria had invaded Egypt which was protected by a treaty with the Romans. On a summer’s day, a lone Roman ambassador, Popillius Laenas, confronted Antiochus and demanded that he withdraw his army. Antiochus asked for time to consult his advisors, but Popillius drew a line in the sand around the king and demanded an answer before he stepped over it. The Syrian army was gone by July. One man standing toe-to-toe against the whole Syrian army – but the king knew Popillius spoke for the whole Roman Empire.
In these passages Jesus is drawing lines in the sand too. He claims to be the finger of God. He asserts his prominence over prophets and kings. He demonstrates his power over spiritual darkness. And he tells the crowd either they’re with him or they’re against him. It’s almost like Joshua’s (Jesus’ Hebrew namesake) “Choose this day” speech.
One of the oft-repeated accusations against Christianity is that it is bigoted and exclusive rather than tolerant and inclusive. After all, isn’t religion a personal matter that is nobody else’s business? But there goes Jesus drawing lines in the sand again. Just one man standing toe-to-toe against the whole wide world and demanding an answer before we step out of the circle. “Anyone who isn’t with me is against me.”
Bill T-B
Worship Theme (1 John 3:11 – 5:5)
Thursday is Thanksgiving Day in the US, a day set aside to offer gratitude for the bounty God has provided following the autumn harvest. It’s a day of family, football, and food – lots and lots and lots of food.
There are a number of myths we remember during the festival. Native Americans selflessly sharing their food and knowledge to help the hapless pilgrims. The grateful pilgrims celebrating a harvest with their new-found friends. And everyone lived happily ever after. Of course these particular myths are just that: fantasies that leave our hearts feeling warm and fuzzy. (A more factual story about the original Thanksgiving festival can be found on the EBA discussion board for this week.)
Sort of like our culture’s view of Christianity in its purest form. The old hippie in me sings Lennon’s “Love, love, love...All we need is love...Love is all we need.” Love with no strings attached. Love with no discipline, no consequences, no punishment, and certainly none of God’s wrath. God is love. Love your neighbor. Love yourself. Love your enemy. Love everybody. “Peace, baby.” But love like that is a fantasy, a fairy tale that doesn’t even have enough truth to hang a pilgrim’s stove pipe hat on it.
Christianity’s love isn’t very warm and fuzzy. Christianity’s love will get you ostracized at best, persecuted at least, and martyred – like dead – at worst. And let’s face it, we have the New Testament Christians who modeled it so that we are without excuse. Imprisonment was common. Beatings were hardly rare. Nobody got rich off of the Gospel – in fact, most couldn’t even make a living at it. They even put the faithful to death. For starters, they killed Jesus. Then they killed Stephen. And James, Peter, and Paul.
But let us also not forget the Ananias and Sapphira, Christians who were struck down by God! for being less than faithful. And the Christians Paul wrote about who were sick and had died because they were less than faithful in the Lord’s Supper. Let us not forget that “The Lord disciplines those he loves, and punishes everyone he adopts as a child” (Hebrews 12:6).
So, what happened to the warm fuzzy God with the long white beard who is long on tolerance and short on unpleasantness? Fantasy. Pure fantasy from the very beginning. God is not just love, God is tough love – and expects the same from us. If Jesus died on our behalf, we ought to be laying our lives down. And if that isn’t what’s called for, then we’re left with “If anyone has material possessions and sees his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in him?” (1 John 3:17 NIV). God’s love is costly. Which of us reading this doesn’t have plenty to be thankful for? Which of us reading this doesn’t have more than we need, though not nearly as much as we want? (Before complaining of your own poverty, consider the fifty Chinese house church leaders who were recently imprisoned; the dozen North Korean underground church leaders who were arrested recently and whose homes were burned to the ground; or the Indian church leaders who were recently beaten for their faith – in a nation where freedom of religion is supposedly modeled.)
Christian love is costly, painful, and inconvenient. It makes no sense. And it’s the model we have.
Bill T-B
Worship Design (1 John 3:11 – 5:5)
Begin this worship with a traditional Thanksgiving theme – the fact is, that’s what everyone is expecting so go ahead and meet the expectations. You may want to sing Bringing in the Sheaves, For the Beauty of the Earth, or We Gather Together. Somewhere during the beginning of the service go ahead and do a traditional “Children’s Message” and talk about Thanksgiving – but don’t say much, if anything, about the first Thanksgiving (myths or otherwise). Then, and this is important, send the children – especially those under 13, but preferably all of them – out of the auditorium.
Next, sing the Beatles’ All You Need is Love to set the stage for the second half. Read selected portions of the Bible reading and begin to talk about the myths of Thanksgiving. Share the reality of the Thanksgiving season versus the myths we’ve grown up with. This will probably garner some discomfort, but so be it. Then turn the discussion to love. Get the topic well introduced and then read or reread 1 John 3:16 and run the opening scene from the movie Vertical Limit (2001). WARNING: Between the myth-busting and this video, you really really don’t want any children in the auditorium. Although the video is not gory, the opening sequence is a heart-wrenching demonstration of love of father for his children (if you have not seen the movie, preview it well before Sunday).
Spend the rest of the service talking about the reality of Christian love – what it takes, what’s expected, and the what someone who loves like that can expect. Love like that puts you in places that may not be pleasant, let alone safe. It puts you face-to-face with real humanity and all its warts. Love like that is perilous – it’s costly, painful, and inconvenient. But it’s the only remedy that is sufficient to reach those who are withering and dying without Jesus.
Bill T-B
+++++++++++++++++++++
4th Sunday in November (Week 48) (Isaiah 9:1-7 and 11:1-9; Luke 21:25-36)
Isaiah 9:6 6 For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government will be upon his shoulder, and his name will be called "Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace."
Young believers in Christ can stand up to almost anything. They can overcome evil, survive heated debate, and even endure persecution. But there is one thing more daunting to a new believer than any of these things: mockery. Young believers squirm under the laughter, chuckles, and cynical jibes of their friends. They hate to look merely foolish in the eyes of their non-Christian work associates. If anything will cause them to disguise or hide their faith, it is the threat of being a joke.
Already the date and location of the company Christmas party has been announced. You can anticipate extent of the carousing, the quantities of alcohol, and the ruthless humor that will pervade the party. You are a new Christian. Everyone knows that. And you are going to be the butt of more than one guffaw.
Why? It’s because cause Christmas elicits the most extravagant and unbelievable statements of the Bible … like the prediction of Isaiah above. How could any reasonable realist believe such exaggerations as this? This is a real test of faith. If this statement is not actually true, then nothing else really matters, and you may as well get drunk. Yet what if it is true? Then all the rest of your faith is secure, and “the joke” is on those who mock it.
Team Meditation (Luke 21:25-36)
Look at the K-Mart shelves the day after Halloween for the sign. Listen to strains of the distant Muzak to foreshadow the coming. Hearken in the mall for the coming of the season, for lo! Christmas is upon us.
...And has been for nearly a month already. The signs are everywhere, nearly all designed to lure consumers – including (especially?) the Christian consumer – to spend more than they can afford. Truly, we’re reminded, ‘tis more glorious to give than to receive, even though the giving means unreasonable interest on the plastic we used to finance our celebrations. In another week or two the many obligatory Christmas parties will be in full swing and there will be less time to reflect on the season. The closer we draw to Christmas week, the hotter the tempers will be as parking spaces at the malls become scarce, finances begin to dwindle, and the pressure to give just the “right” gift bears down upon us.
The signs are all around us, but will they warn us? Will they keep us from dissipation (there’s an oft’ used word these days – it means wasteful expenditure or consumption; indulgence; intemperance), drunkenness, or the anxieties of life? Or will we be seduced by the signs and surrender to the lure of the not-so-holy-day season?
Bill T-B
Worship Theme (Isaiah 9:1-7 and 11:1-9)
“Christmas is a secular holiday” or so the US Supreme Court indicated in two rulings back in the 1980s. As I write this, it remains to be seen whether the howls of protest over public displays of nativity scenes and wishing people “Merry Christmas” will escalate over last year’s grievances. And there is little doubt that much of what is celebrated during this season is irreligious. Sure, we can add all the meaning we’d like to candy canes, Christmas trees, and even Saint Nicolas, but the fact is, none of these are uniquely Christian, if they’re even Christian at all anymore.
Did Christianity lose Christmas to paganism, secularism, or some other ism? Did we “give it away” by over-accommodating culture? Did we even lose something worth loosing? After all, Christmas wasn’t celebrated by the Church until the fourth century or so. What exactly have we lost?
All these questions really comes down to just one: Why does Christmas matter?
Because Christmas is the fulfillment of a promise. It is the realization of hope. Isaiah writes in a dark, dark time for Israel. The temple was rubble, Jerusalem’s defenses were destroyed, and the nation’s brightest and best had been summarily exported and exiled. But God did not leave them hopeless: “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light”; “A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse”; “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”
Isaiah promises that light will overcome darkness, the yoke of oppression will be shattered, and there will be peace – and not just peace as the world can give, but the peace that only the Messiah, Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace, Immanuel, Jesus the Christ can give.
Bill T-B
Worship Design (Isaiah 9:1-7 and 11:1-9)
This is the first week of the traditional church year: the first Sunday of Advent. This will not be news to most pastors, nor to many on the worship team. But to the rest of the community, the word Advent might well be what a homebuilder does when a washroom gets too humid. Outside of those who grew up in the church, the post-Thanksgiving season is called Christmas time or simply “the holidays.” But anymore, there is very little that’s holy in the holiday season. Even in the church, Santa often takes center stage – even if he does kneel before the baby in the manger (trust me, the children in the pageant or sitting in the audience are more interested in the goodies he’ll be giving out during the after-worship fellowship time).
Christmas is hard on Christians. It’s hard to keep the “reason for the season” the real reason for anything festive. Our annual preaching of simplicity or traditional values hardly competes with even one evening’s ads on television, let alone in every store window and display in town. And yet, the hope for peace, serenity, and a meaningful Christmas is the kindled hope of all of us. It’s why the season of Advent is important – it’s a season where we can embrace and reflect Isaiah’s hope.
Begin the service by naming the issue. If a current event about the secularization of Christmas is on the forefront of people’s minds, use this as an introduction. If not, use a clip from the movie Jingle All the Way (1996). Use the clip when Howard (Arnold Schwarzenegger) charges into the toy store and tries to claim the last Turbo Man for his son’s Christmas present. Make the point that the sense of “peace on earth goodwill to all” has pretty much been subsumed by the demands of the not-so-holy-day season of parties, presents, and pigging-out.
If the setting allows for interacting with the congregation, invite them to share some of the feelings they experience during the season. Some, of course, will be pleasant, but (hopefully) after the video clip they will share some of their less-positive feelings honestly. The point is that is difficult, even for those who embrace the “reason for the season,” to be immersed in holiday cheer, let alone holiday peace.
Move into the scripture readings and draw some parallels between the dark times in Israel and the demise of Christendom in North America. Note how Isaiah offers light, peace, and hope. Jesus is the embodiment of all that Israel was waiting for – and he’s the promised light, peace, and hope for us yet today.
Conclude the service by sending each family home with an Advent candle – a pillar candle that is big enough to burn for at least 100 hours (about 3” diameter, 6” tall). Invite them to burn the candle in a front window each night during the season to remember that the light of the world was, is, and is to come.
Bill T-B
++++++++++++++++++++++++