Dance of the Heart

Dance of the Heart

Luke 1:39-49

December 9, 2018 • Mount Pleasant UMC

There is no other time of the year like Christmas. The closer we get, the more the anticipation builds. For me, Christmas is such a patchwork of memories. I remember as a kid always helping to put up the Christmas tree on Thanksgiving evening, a tradition we have continued in our family. I’ve told Cathy before that I don’t even know why that’s so important to me, but it is. So is not playing Christmas music until Thanksgiving evening, a rule she routinely breaks when I’m not around! I remember Christmas cutout cookies—the sugar ones, with lots of icing and sometimes sprinkles. Santa, reindeer, snowmen and bells—those were the four shapes we had. I remember going to Rossville and sitting on Santa’s lap, putting out cookies and milk on Christmas Eve, then waking up early on Christmas morning and running down the stairs to see if the guy in the red suit had come through for us again this year. And with the way my brother and I got along, that was always a big question mark. I remember one Christmas when it was warm enough that after Christmas dinner we walked around Sedalia in short sleeves, without our coats on, but mostly I remember snowball fights, riding our sled down the hill by the railroad (that hill is not as big as I remember it; it must have shrunk in the last few years!), and warming up with hot chocolate by the wood stove. That old song is true: Christmas is meant for children.

Maybe that’s because children understand that Christmas is a time of joy. When they hear the angels singing about “news of great joy” (Luke 2:10), they get it. Somewhere along the way, as we grow older, we forget that. At some point, Christmas stops being joyful and starts being stressful. There are parties to attend, gifts to buy, food to cook and family meals to prepare for. And for some, Christmas is a painful time, a time when the losses of the past year are especially painful. We talked last week about the chains that bind us, especially at this time of year, and I suggested some ways we can begin to break those chains that we forge in life. But once we break the chains, the second step in our journey from humbug to hallelujah is to reawaken the joy that is Christmas.

Today is the second Sunday of Advent. Advent is that season of the Christian year when we are meant to slow down and, rather than rushing to the celebration of Christmas, take time to prepare our hearts so that we can focus on what this season of the year is really all about. This year, we are taking a different approach than we have in the past, and we’re pairing the Biblical Christmas story with a ghost story—a ghost story that was written specifically for Christmas. We’re following along in the footsteps of the fictional character Ebenezer Scrooge, the main character in Charles Dickens’ story A Christmas Carol. And not only are we asking you to read along in the Scriptures during this Advent, but I’m encouraging you to read a chapter of Dickens’ story each week because I find that a lot of people know the Dickens story but not a lot have actually read it. So, last week, we began with Scrooge and the nighttime visit from his former business partner, Jacob Marley. Marley promised Scrooge that he would be visited by three spirits, that they would give him a chance to reshape his life, and that if he didn’t pay attention, his eternal future would not be pleasant. Now, again, as I said last week, Dickens is not writing Christian theology. He is telling a story, so let’s not get distracted by the ghost story part of his book. The message of A Christmas Carol is really what we want to focus on during this Advent.

Scrooge has no understanding of the meaning, the joy, or the purpose of Christmas. “What is Christmas,” he says early in the book, “but a time for finding yourself a year older and not an hour richer.” So, shortly after Marley leaves Scrooge, he is visited by the Ghost of Christmas Past. When the spirit appears, Scrooge is whisked away on a journey through his childhood, a time which was not always joyful. At his boarding school, he is left behind while his friends go home for Christmas. He knows he’s been sent away, that his father had rejected him, and that he didn’t really have any friends even at the school. It’s a painful part of the story to read because some of us know that sort of story all too well. The pain in our past is sometimes caused by things others did to us or by circumstances that were beyond our control, things that were not fair or right. Several years ago, I read of a young girl at St. Jude’s Ranch for Children. St. Jude’s is a place where severely abused or neglected children can come and find a safe place to live. One Christmas, this little girl made Christmas gifts and sent them to her family, and a few days later, a package arrived back from home. She was very excited as she opened it, but inside she found her gifts returned, unopened. The message was clear: we don’t want you. Some of you know that kind of rejection. Maybe it didn’t come in quite so blatant ways. Maybe it came in small ways, slight ways, repetitive ways that built into a wound, an emotional and spiritual wound, a deep wound. If we’re not careful we can allow those wounds to control us, to define us, to become who we are. In many ways, Scrooge represents all the ways we have been hurt in our past. Scrooge’s story can remind us of our own.

But Scrooge’s early life was not always painful. The Ghost of Christmas Past also takes him to the place where he apprenticed: Fezziwig’s Counting House. Scrooge sees his old mentor alive again, and all of his friends and associates from happier days. Those were some of the best days of his life. When Scrooge and the Ghost visit, it’s Christmas Eve, and Fezziwig has closed down the business to celebrate with music, food and dancing. Joy is in the air; it’s contagious, and it even gets to Ebenezer Scrooge, as he receives an invitation to dance.

VIDEO: “Dance of the Heart (2)”

At this point in his life, Scrooge believes that joy comes from wealth, so the Ghost of Christmas Past confronts him with his own past. Was it all a lie? Mr. Fezziwig wasn’t wealthy. He didn’t have money to waste, and he probably had struggles and problems like everyone else. But that didn’t keep him from joy. He knew how to celebrate the simple things—music, laughter, good food and fun shared with friends and family alike. Scrooge had forgotten that. He’s forgotten what that felt like. It was just like this, Scrooge says. It was joy-filled and beautiful because Fezziwig knew that the heart of Christmas is joy.

Dickens’ story reflects what the message of the Gospels. Luke begins his account by telling us about two pregnancies: Mary’s and Elizabeth’s. I don’t know if there is anything more joyful than the hope and promise of a new baby. And these are two women who didn’t have much hope of having a baby at this point in their lives. Elizabeth is well past the time when childbearing normally happens. And Mary is a virgin. But both of them receive visits from the angel Gabriel, who makes impossible promises: both of them are going to have a baby. These are pronouncements that are filled with joy. Gabriel even greets Mary with words of joy: “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you” (1:28). Joy continues when Mary goes to visit her relative Elizabeth; even the baby in Elizabeth’s womb leaps for joy (1:41, 44). And then Mary sings, “My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior” (1:46-47). We often associate joy with the Christmas season, but joy is actually much larger than that. Joy is a hallmark of the Christian faith. “The joy of the Lord is your strength,” says Nehemiah (8:10). Paul told the Romans, “For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking, but of righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit” (14:17). And one of the last wishes Jesus had for his disciples was “that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete” (John 15:11). Joy is one of the primary characteristics of the Christian faith.

So why don’t we feel it? Why do our circumstances so easily overwhelm our joy? I think sometimes it’s because we confuse joy with happiness. One is a state of being, the other is a feeling, and feelings are fleeting. Feelings come and go. Our faith and our Scriptures do not claim that everything will always work out perfectly, or that everything is always going to go the way we want it to. Following Jesus does not lead to immediate and complete perfection in life. Just think about the way Jesus came into this world, and the way it affected those who agreed to be his parents. I don’t think Mary would not have chosen to give birth to the baby Jesus the way she did. It was a scandal; she could have been killed for being pregnant before she was married, and it’s almost certain that in a small town like Nazareth she was material for gossip. I imagine that every time she walked into the coffee shop, or through the market, conversations suddenly stopped and people looked away from her. Joseph, too, would have suffered “behind-the-back” talk and shame because he agreed to raise the baby as his own. It would not have been a choice made in the interests of his reputation or bettering his employment. Neither of them would have chosen this life, but had they turned their backs on God’s offer, they would have missed out on joy. Joy does not come just because everything goes our way. If we wait for that to happen, for the feelings of happiness to come, we will miss so much joy. Joy is an inner sense that God is good and that he will bring good things into our lives. One author put it this way: “Joy is the surest sign of the presence of God” (Pastor’s Manual, pg. B62). In other words: where God is, there is joy.

But, as we talked about a few weeks ago, it’s easy to lose sight of that when we become overly focused on what we don’t have, when what we already have is not enough. Scrooge became obsessed with the pursuit of wealth, with getting more because what he had was not enough, and the Ghost of Christmas Past reminds him that his obsession with money and wealth led to the breaking of his engagement to Belle, his fiancé. She knew money was more important to him than she was. Little by little, the wounds of his past stole any joy he had, because he spent his time worried about what he didn’t have. That was a temptation in Dickens’ time, and it’s still a temptation in our time, to allow the circumstances of our lives and the things we don’t have keep us from joy. There are other things as well. Loss—all sorts of loss, such as divorce, death or some sort of rupture in a relationship—can threaten to steal our joy. We see happy families (or at least those who appear to be happy) and we spend way too much time focused on why our lives didn’t turn out like theirs. That’s only gotten worse with the way social media has saturated our world. I’ve got an update for you: most people are not as happy as they like to appear on Facebook, Instagram or Twitter. We work hard to portray our best selves online, and anywhere we go for that matter. One of the dangers of just spending lots of time scrolling through statuses online is that envy or jealousy begins to settle in. Discontent begins to take over. That friend got that new big-screen TV? Suddenly your little one doesn’t seem adequate. New car down the street? Yours is a few years old. New job? Why can’t you get a raise also? Soon our prayers change from, “Thank you for all my blessings,” to “Why can’t good things like that happen to me?”

Perhaps the happiest moment of Scrooge’s life is the one we witnessed earlier, when he was dancing with Belle at Fezziwig’s. Though even that Christmas he was focused on the business, Fezziwig urged him to lighten up, and Belle’s smile refocused him that night. Joy often comes in unexpected ways, at times we do not plan for. No matter how much planning Mary might have done, she could never have imagined how the Savior would actually come. I love one little detail Luke includes. He says that some time after Jesus was born, “Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart” (2:19). When everyone had gone home, Mary took time to remember and ponder all God had done. That’s a detail Luke could have only gotten from Mary herself. Maybe she told him that because she knew it was that pondering that gave her the strength for the years ahead, as she watched her son grow, teach, and ultimately give his life. Even on the most difficult of days, Mary found joy because she knew God was at work. So what are you pondering this Advent season? What are the things God has done in your life this year? Maybe it’s an unexpected friendship God has brought into your life, someone who has helped you more than you would have thought possible. Maybe it’s an answer to prayer that you didn’t think would happen. Maybe it’s a particular time of worship, or still having a job this year, or the way someone has shared God’s love in tangible ways with you. It’s not really a Christmas song, but for some reason, at this time of year, I often have that old Irving Berlin song stuck in my head. You know the one?

When I am worried and I can’t sleep

I count my blessings instead of sheep

And I fall sleep counting my blessings

When my bankroll is getting small

I think of when I had none at all

And I fall asleep counting my blessings...

Mary pondered all these things in her heart throughout her life and even in the midst of trials, remembering what God had done brought her joy. What are you pondering this Christmas?

There’s another path to joy, because sometimes the difficult memories are so strong they seem to block out any joyful ones. I believe it’s in those times God sends people to come alongside us. We are part of the faith community; we are not or should not be loners in this pursuit of joy. Very often, we need someone to come alongside us and help us turn the pain of the past into the joy of the present. Scrooge needed a Ghost of Christmas Past; Mary needed an Elizabeth. There are many opinions as to why Mary traveled to see Elizabeth. It was a dangerous journey; it would have taken 3-5 days on foot—not something a young girl who is pregnant ought to be doing alone (Keener, Bible Background Commentary: New Testament, pg. 190). Some say Mary joined a caravan, which would have been common, and others say maybe Mary believed she would be protected since the angel had said the child within her was holy (1:35; Pilch, The Cultural World of Jesus, Cycle C, pgs. 10-11). However she got there, she “hurried,” Luke says, to see her much older relative Elizabeth.

Mary had been told by the angel that Elizabeth, who was believed to be barren, had conceived a child in her old age (1:36). Elizabeth’s pregnancy was a miracle almost as much as Mary’s, and I wonder if Mary sensed that, of all the people she knew, Elizabeth would most understand something of what was happening to her. Mary could have learned about pregnancy, childbirth and family from other women in Nazareth, even her own mother, but none of them would really understand what Mary was going through. None of them was the recipient of a miracle. Perhaps Mary went to see Elizabeth because she hoped they could draw strength from one another (Texts for Preaching C, pg. 36). Elizabeth could be a healing presence for Mary.

We need people like that who will come alongside us to encourage us, to walk with us, to help us see Christ even when we’re overwhelmed. We need people who encourage us to be better, to reach for higher goals, to stretch beyond our comfort zone. We need people who challenge and chastise us, who become agents of healing and wholeness. Dr. David Mains calls them “dance partners,” and other traditions call them spiritual friends or mentors. Adam Hamilton calls them “stretcher bearers,” based on the story in the Gospel of Mark (2:1-12) where a paralyzed man’s friends pick him up on a stretcher and bring him to Jesus. Whatever imagery you want to use, the fact is we need such people throughout our lives. Sometimes that person is an equal, walking beside us, and other times they are someone stronger than us, someone we have to hang onto just to be able to get through. Mary went to Elizabeth, knowing she would not be turned away, and she found strength in that relationship for what lay ahead. These are the people you would call in a crisis and know they would be there, no matter what. Maybe they are people you have known for a long time, or someone you met just recently and instantly hit it off. Maybe it’s your LifeGroup or another small group. Maybe it’s the person who lives down the street or someone who lives across the country. Do you have someone like that in your life? It might be a “formal” relationship, like a counselor or mentor. It might be an “informal” friendship. But we need those folks who will remind us of the joy on days when we can’t find it ourselves. We need people in our lives who will call us to be the best we can be, to be fully who God created us to be. (And, by the way, if you do have someone like that in your life now, there couldn’t be a better Christmas gift than writing them a note expressing your gratitude and joy.)

Many years ago, Steve Jobs co-founded a little company called Apple Computer. Maybe you’ve heard of it. His dream was to build a completely different kind of computer company, one which would make computers easier to use and accessible to everybody because at the time, computers were large and intimidating to most people. Jobs was the visionary, the idea man, but he needed business people to help him build the company. He set his sights on John Sculley. Sculley was president of the Pepsico, and in that setting he had power, prestige, public recognition, an enormous salary and a secure future. Why would he want to leave that behind to work at a little start-up company no one had ever heard of? He was safe at Pepsico. There was nothing Steve Jobs had to offer that could convince Sculley to leave all that behind. Nothing, but a question. Jobs asked Sculley one simple question, and it changed Sculley’s life. Jobs asked this: “Do you want to spend the rest of your life selling sugared water or do you want a chance to change the world?” (Dotterer, Living The Easter Faith). Well, computers have changed the world more and more over the last several decades, and Apple itself has transformed many areas of life. But, friends, Jesus has been changing the world and transforming lives a lot longer than that, and he does it one person at a time, bringing joy as we ponder the work of God and invite into our lives people who can call out the best in us. Mary learned that the joy of the Lord really was her strength, and it is our strength our well. Are we going to stay content with the way things have always been, or are we ready to let the joy of the Lord flow through us to change the world? Let’s pray.