December 23, 2007
Grace Church
Rev. Robert E. Hensley

Isaiah 7:10-16; Psalm 80:1-7, 16-18; Romans 1:1-7; Matthew 1:18-25

      Let us pray.  Lord God, in your Son’s coming among us, the day of our deliverance has dawned, and through him you will make all things new when he comes in power and majesty to judge the world.  And now we pray Lord, that your word only will be spoken, and your word only will be heard.  Amen.

      At this time of year as Christmas draws ever nearer, our movie theatres and our televisions abound with festive holiday offerings that are determined to put all of us into a frenzy of celebration and shopping, and occasionally some of them are even worth watching.  One of the “must see T.V.” movies of the holiday season that I have always watched at least once a year in one version or another for as long as I can remember, is Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol.”  I am willing to bet that most of us here this morning keep this as part of our holiday ritual, and may well be able to recite many if not all of the opening lines.  You know the scene I am talking about.  Two gentlemen pay a call on the office of Ebenezer Scrooge hoping to raise money “…for the poor and destitute who suffer greatly at the present time of the year.”  As the gentlemen make their case, they point out that there are literally “hundreds of thousands in want of common comforts.”  Old Ebenezer is not about to be impressed however, and responds with one of the movie’s most memorable lines: “Are there no prisons?  Aren’t the work houses still in operation?”

      “Yes,” one of the gentlemen sighs.  “I wish I could say they were not.  What shall we put you down for?”  “Nothing,” barks Scrooge.  “Ah.  You wish to be anonymous!” the gentleman declares.  “I wish to be left alone!” snarls Scrooge.

      At these words, our charitable friends leave with sad and heavy hearts, g]=rieving for the poor and homeless who “…would rather die…” than suffer the pain and humiliation of a 19th-century English workhouse.  But they are also grieving for Mr. Scrooge, who in his advanced years is living all alone in his self-centered misery that has blinded him to the simple joys of giving.

      There is a bit of old Mr. Scrooge in all of us, to one degree or another.  How many times have we found ourselves saying the same thing, or something similar, to those who in good faith ask us for our time or our money: “Please don’t bother me.  I wish to be left alone!”  Those of us with any experience in an every member canvas may be able to identify on some level with the two gentleman who visit Scrooge.

      Although Dickens never uses the word, the story of Ebenezer Scrooge is a story about personal stewardship.  It is all about the joy of giving and about learning to take responsibility and to care for all of God’s creation.  And it is more than a story about the sentimental, (or should we say ‘commercial’?) spirit that comes and goes with each holiday season.

      Ebenezer Scrooge, like his partner Jacob Marley, as we learn in the story, are not good stewards.  They hoard what they have been given and bury their gifts deep within themselves, even to the extent of thinking that what they have is what is owed to them.  Scrooge either cannot or has lost the capacity to give or share, which results in a tortured, self-absorbed spiritual misery.  Along with his financial profits, his gifts and his talents, Scrooge accumulates and hides all of the slights, the hurts, the resentments and disappointments of a long and lonely lifetime of his own making deep within himself.  In the end there is nothing that makes him happy; nothing that gives him any peace.  And as it turns out, there is only one thing that can save him from the hell that he has made for himself, and that is giving.  Open, generous, unrestricted giving, which is the only known cure for what ails Mr. Scrooge.  As long as he holds himself back, as long as he asks “What’s in it for me?” he is condemned to live the life that he has made for himself through all of those years of self-centeredness, held fast by the chain that has been forged of his own design.

      Fortunately for Scrooge and for ourselves, we have a God who is generous and forgiving, and Scrooge receives one last chance to turn his life around, which in Dickens’s story, he does.  The spirits (or are they in fact, angels?) who visit Scrooge on Christmas Eve help him to see the painful reality of who he was, who he is now, and what will eventually become of him should he continue down the path he is on.  They also give him a glimpse of what could be…who he can become if he gives up his former resentments and embraces the joy of giving and lives into his full and complete potential.*

      You may wonder what “A Christmas Carol” has to do with our Gospel lesson for this morning, and Joseph’s visitation by the Angel of the Lord.  “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.  She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” 

      The Gospel of Matthew tells us "the other annunciation story."  Not the familiar one about Gabriel appearing to Mary with a message, but the annunciation to Joseph.  Before the stable, before Bethlehem, Joseph is simply a man betrothed to a young girl.  All he wants to do is settle down, make an honest living as a carpenter, and raise a family.  Then he finds out that it is has been discovered that Mary is pregnant, and Joseph knows that he is not the father.  He feels betrayed, rejected, played for a fool.  The engagement must end, and with it the hope this couple has had for a happy life together.

      But before he can put an end to it, Joseph has the first of several dreams in which he is given instructions that are to serve to keep him and his family out of danger.  The first dream tells him that he is to go ahead with the marriage plans to Mary.  Right after Jesus is born, the next dream tells him to take his family into Egypt, for Herod is determined to find and kill the child.  Later through another dream he is told to bring the family back to Israel.  And then another dream warns him not to settle in Judea, where the ruler is Herod’s son, but to go instead to Nazareth in Galilee.  Always, when Joseph awakes from his sleep and his dreams, he does exactly as the “angel of the Lord” has asked. 

      I would claim that Joseph is the ultimate model of obedient stewardship for Ebeneezer Scrooge and for ourselves as well.  He is willing to completely sacrifice his reputation and his comfortable chosen existence at God’s call to become the guardian, the adopted father, the steward if you will, of God’s only son and his mother, Mary.  Not a task for the weak of heart or of faith. 

      Joseph’s story is ultimately a story of faith, a story of stewardship and a story of relationships, both to God and to another person.  In his story lies a lesson for us, as well as for Mr. Scrooge.  That is, if we are in a right relationship with one another on ordinary days, then when some crisis arrives and our world seems to be falling apart, either because of a message from an angel or the message of a ghost or a spirit, we will be able to recognize the voice of God speaking to us through these other-worldly messengers.  The end result is that we can respond in faith by doing what God is asking us to do and by living in the way that God would have us live.  And the way that God wants us to live in relationship not only with the divine, but also with one another, is from a life grounded in love.  The love that Joseph models for us toward God, toward Mary and to the infant Jesus.  It is the same as the obedient, reformed love that Scrooge has toward his fellow human beings.  And it is the love that God shows to us through giving Jesus to be born for our salvation.

      Stewardship.  Repentance.  Amendment of life.  Responding to God’s call as God would have us respond.  It is all about faith.  It is all about love.

      As our season of Advent now turns into the season of the Incarnation, I want to offer you this modern paraphrase of I Corinthians 13, Paul’s great treatise on love.  I am sorry to say that I do not know the author, but I would bid you to think about this as you finish your preparations for the coming of Christ, for the Christ Mass, one day from now. It goes like this:

      “If I decorate my house perfectly with plaid bows, strands of twinkling lights and shiny ornaments, but do not show love to my family, I'm just another decorator.

      If I slave away in the kitchen, baking dozens of Christmas cookies, preparing gourmet meals and arranging a beautifully adorned table at mealtime, but do not show love to my family, I'm just another cook.

      If I work at the soup kitchen, carol in the nursing home and give all that I have to charity, but do not show love to my family, it profits me nothing.

      If I trim the tree with shimmering angels and hand-crocheted snowflakes, attend a myriad of holiday parties and sing in the choir's cantata but do not focus on Christ, I have missed the point.

      Love stops the cooking to hug the child.

      Love sets aside the decorating to kiss the spouse.

      Love is kind, though harried and tired.

      Love doesn't envy another's home that has coordinated Christmas china and table linens.

      Love doesn't yell at the kids or the dog or the cat to get out of the way.

      Love doesn't give only to those who are able to give in return but rejoices in giving to those who can't.

      Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

      Love never fails.  Video games will break, pearl necklaces will be lost, and golf clubs will rust.  But giving the gift of love will endure.

      The gift of love will endure.  

      That is what this season, all of our stewardship, this coming of Christmas is all about.  The gift of love.

      Let us pray.  Dear God, increase the capacity of our hearts.  Take away the edges and stretch them out to include all in our lives that we do not love, all in our families that we judge, all in our church that we fear, and all in the world that doesn’t fit.  In Jesus’ name we pray.  Amen.  (Adapted from a prayer by Phoebe Griswold, wife of the Presiding Bishop, “A Prayer for My Heart”, Women’s Uncommon Prayers, p. 257.

      *The stewardship imagery is borrowed from and article by Daniel Conway, writing in “Networking”, the newsletter of The Episcopal Church network for stewardship.