Rector's Sermon - Sunday, December 1, 2002

First Reading	Psalm	Epistle	Gospel
Isaiah 64:1-9	80:1-7, 16-18	1 Corinthians 1:3-9	Mark 13:24-37

     An old Eastern tale claims that there was once a very accomplished and famous scholar who continually searched the world for additional insight. One day she heard about a revered tutor in a far off land, so with great difficulty she made the journey and arrived at his house. The tutor welcomed and invited her in, and brought out a pot of tea. The scholar extensively related how she had systematically researched and stored up great spiritual knowledge. The tutor patiently listened and then began serving the tea. Without saying a word the tutor handed the visiting scholar a cup and poured a full cup, and then kept pouring, as the water ran all over the sides down onto the table. The scholar watched in amazement as the water splashed everywhere, and finally, unable to contain herself, shouted, "Stop! Stop! Don't you see my cup is too full? It's overflowing and nothing more will possibly go in!" "Ah, yes", replied the tutor, "and like the tea cup, you are over-full of your own thoughts and speculations. How can I offer you any insights unless you first empty your cup?"

     The secular season that begins the day after Thanksgiving and ends the evening of December 24, seems to revolve around the pursuit of getting filled up. It is quite true that this time of year does bring out a sense of generosity and renewed goodwill, but the overall emphasis is involved, in some matter, in the pursuit of gathering and getting enough. We don't want anyone to be in want, or at least we don't desire anyone in want, to be a visible part of the holiday pageant.

     Maybe this is precisely why the holiday can appear so sterile and ultimately unsatisfying. Most of us are so full of opinions and expertise. Yet Jesus warns us that those who arrive at God's banquet table already full, are in truth so filled that anything more would just cause indigestion. Richard Wentz a former professor at Arizona State has suggested that the renewed emphasis on Chanukah for Jews, Ramadan for Muslims, and the introduction of Kwanza for African Americans is an attempt to establish an identity and cut loose from what seems to be a bland holiday of fullness that is easily satiated with meaninglessness.

     People of faith have an identity is inevitably related to some sense of a painful emptiness. Its denial is also a denial of our heritage. We long for a new birth, we need refreshment, we need hope. We are not complete and whole. We yearn for paths of peace that we have not discovered, nor even know how to look for. Advent is not like stopping at a service station to fill up for Christmas. Advent is not the time to top off our tanks in order to prepare ourselves for a season of plenty. Rather it is a blessed season to acknowledge the emptiness in our lives, and to make room for new beginnings and unexpected insights.

     The good news through all of this is that if given a small chance, if provided a little space in your teacup or a small crack in the door, God's spirit can find a way through. That is the reason we put a door on the bulletin cover for advent. It reminds us that the world likes tight, secure doors. That is why preparation for the birth of Jesus is inevitably kept out of secular celebrations. In its full calendar of busyness, there is no room for suggestions that there are necessities neither our ideologies nor expertise will satisfy.

     We put a door on the bulletin for Advent because none of our doors at St. John's are tight fitting. They are cracked and warped, with plenty of space for the wind to get through. They are hard to close and difficult to keep locked. They are weathered by tradition and have been through many a storm of life. Maybe that in and of itself is a helpful symbol of how a church should be. God's love is always open and never sealed. God is indeed seeking to enter closed doors and find space in over-full hearts. Advent for the church is really a season of old doors that rattle, shiver and shudder as the Holy Spirit breathes new life into the longing and empty spaces of our world.

     And I offer this to you in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, Amen.