Difference between revisions of "Sermon for December 17, 2015"
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==I'll Be Home for Christmas== | ==I'll Be Home for Christmas== | ||
| − | I | + | I'd like to thank Sergeant Major Thompson and Chaplain ___?___ for inviting me today, and for giving me the opportunity to spend some time today with people who spend their time protecting others--our country, its people, our values. Your service is truly a gift, and this Christmas, it's one I am truly thankful for. |
| + | |||
| + | Today I want to talk to you about Christmas, about "going home for the holidays," and about our heavenly home. But first...a story, one about family and coming home. | ||
| − | If you haven't already figured it out, I grew up as a military brat. When other kids would ask me where I was from, I used to say "the Army." My mother was an Army nurse, and she was a military brat, too, the daughter of an infantry Colonel. | + | One day up in heaven, Saint Peter saw Jesus walking by and caught his attention. "Hey Jesus, could you watch the Pearly Gates while I go run an errand?” |
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| + | “Sure,” replied Jesus. “What do I have to do?” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Just talk to the people who arrive. Ask about their background, their family, and their lives. Then decide if they deserve to be let into Heaven.” So Jesus waited at the gates while St. Peter went off on his errand. | ||
| + | |||
| + | The first person to approach the gates was a kind looking, wrinkled old man. Jesus stopped him at the entrance to the gates, greeted him, and asked, “So...what was it you did for a living?” | ||
| + | |||
| + | The old man replied, “I was a carpenter.” Jesus remembered his own life on earth, and he leaned forward just a little. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Did you have any family?” Jesus asked. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Yes, I had a son, but I lost him.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | Jesus leaned forward some more. “You lost your son? Can you tell me more about him?” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Well, he had holes in his hands and feet.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | Jesus leaned forward even more and whispered, “Father?” | ||
| + | |||
| + | The old man leaned forward and whispered, “Pinocchio?” | ||
| + | |||
| + | Going home for the holidays. I spent the very first Christmas of my life in Huntstville, Alabama. The next Christmas I was in Mississippi, the next two were in Maryland. Then there were three Christmases in Savannah Georgia, one in El Paso, Texas, two overseas in Belgium, one more in Maryland, and then the next three back in El Paso. All of that before I was 15 years old. | ||
| + | |||
| + | If you haven't already figured it out, I grew up as a military brat. When other kids would ask me where I was from, I used to say "the Army." My mother was an Army nurse, and she was a military brat, too, the daughter of an infantry Colonel. All of this is to say that for my family, the idea of "going home for the holidays" was, well...complicated. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Despite that, I've always loved the old Bing Crosby song, "I'll Be Home for Christmas." (I think we're going to sing it a little later on). The song became popular during World War II, especially among soldiers far away from their families and loved ones. I love it because it has this weird, beautiful blend of hope and confidence (I'll be home for Christmas...you can plan on me!), with nostalgia and tradition (we'll have snow, mistletoe, presents under the tree), and finally a kind of resigned, mournful sadness (I'll be home for Christmas...if only in my dreams). | ||
| + | |||
| + | If we're honest, even the best of Christmases have all those elements, to some degree. | ||
Revision as of 15:19, 16 December 2015
Luke 2:1-7
1 In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. 2 This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. 3 All went to their own towns to be registered. 4 Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. 5 He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. 6 While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. 7 And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.
Hebrews 13:12-16
12 Therefore Jesus also suffered outside the city gate in order to sanctify the people by his own blood. 13 Let us then go to him outside the camp and bear the abuse he endured. 14 For here we have no lasting city, but we are looking for the city that is to come. 15 Through him, then, let us continually offer a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that confess his name. 16 Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God.
I'll Be Home for Christmas
I'd like to thank Sergeant Major Thompson and Chaplain ___?___ for inviting me today, and for giving me the opportunity to spend some time today with people who spend their time protecting others--our country, its people, our values. Your service is truly a gift, and this Christmas, it's one I am truly thankful for.
Today I want to talk to you about Christmas, about "going home for the holidays," and about our heavenly home. But first...a story, one about family and coming home.
One day up in heaven, Saint Peter saw Jesus walking by and caught his attention. "Hey Jesus, could you watch the Pearly Gates while I go run an errand?”
“Sure,” replied Jesus. “What do I have to do?”
“Just talk to the people who arrive. Ask about their background, their family, and their lives. Then decide if they deserve to be let into Heaven.” So Jesus waited at the gates while St. Peter went off on his errand.
The first person to approach the gates was a kind looking, wrinkled old man. Jesus stopped him at the entrance to the gates, greeted him, and asked, “So...what was it you did for a living?”
The old man replied, “I was a carpenter.” Jesus remembered his own life on earth, and he leaned forward just a little.
“Did you have any family?” Jesus asked.
“Yes, I had a son, but I lost him.”
Jesus leaned forward some more. “You lost your son? Can you tell me more about him?”
“Well, he had holes in his hands and feet.”
Jesus leaned forward even more and whispered, “Father?”
The old man leaned forward and whispered, “Pinocchio?”
Going home for the holidays. I spent the very first Christmas of my life in Huntstville, Alabama. The next Christmas I was in Mississippi, the next two were in Maryland. Then there were three Christmases in Savannah Georgia, one in El Paso, Texas, two overseas in Belgium, one more in Maryland, and then the next three back in El Paso. All of that before I was 15 years old.
If you haven't already figured it out, I grew up as a military brat. When other kids would ask me where I was from, I used to say "the Army." My mother was an Army nurse, and she was a military brat, too, the daughter of an infantry Colonel. All of this is to say that for my family, the idea of "going home for the holidays" was, well...complicated.
Despite that, I've always loved the old Bing Crosby song, "I'll Be Home for Christmas." (I think we're going to sing it a little later on). The song became popular during World War II, especially among soldiers far away from their families and loved ones. I love it because it has this weird, beautiful blend of hope and confidence (I'll be home for Christmas...you can plan on me!), with nostalgia and tradition (we'll have snow, mistletoe, presents under the tree), and finally a kind of resigned, mournful sadness (I'll be home for Christmas...if only in my dreams).
If we're honest, even the best of Christmases have all those elements, to some degree.
