Advent Sermon: Reconstructing Christmas, Dec 10th, 2023, Broad View United

Sermon: Reconstructing Christmas

What does reimagining Christmas mean to you? What are your Christmas memories like?

I grew up in the Roman Catholic Church. As devoted Christians, my parents never missed observing Christmas and, therefore, attended Christmas Eve mass, which lasted until late at night. As teenagers, my younger brother and I stayed at home. So, my Christmas memory from childhood is being left at home until my parents came back at midnight. There was no turkey, There was not any Christmas present in the next morning, either. I never thought I would have them… Christmas is not a traditional Korean culture.

 

In 2013, I was working in student ministry at Chemainus United Church. I led Christmas Eve Lessons and Carols and Candlelight communion services and so on, but my true Christmas cultural encounter was when our older son Peace complained to me that he and his brother were not getting any Christmas gifts because our home did not have any Christmas tree, and so, Santa could not find the way. So, that year, we bought our first Christmas tree at Walmart and our kids got gifts with hand-written letters from Santa. 

 

Every year, I sincerely enjoyed singing Christmas carols with the congregations I served, especially the mystery and hope of the lit Advent candles in a circle, singing Silent Night, Holy Night, but… 

 

I really never had any serious intent to think about what Christmas means to me: how I would like to uphold it, how I find my self and story in it; for my personal truth; for my healing. 

 

What is Christmas? 

What is this time for? 

What would this time mean to others who are from different cultures? 

For those who don’t celebrate Christmas?

For the faithful who celebrate or honour different traditions? 

 

At this point, I would like to suggest three lenses to view Christmas, and the season, to reconstruct them. 

* Family 

* Mary 

* The birth of God. 

 

First, family. The Question of the Day, “What does reimagining Christmas mean to you?” was planted in me like a seed, when I encountered a poem, “Who is Christmas?” by Joya Polk, in this small book, Reconstructing Christmas. 

 

“Christmas used to be my favourite time of the year, 

And now, like the rest of my life, it’s turned into a shallow pit of depression. 

 

(…) 

 

The holidays are for MY healing. 

 

Tradition says, 

Spend time with your family. 

Tradition says, 

You better go home and spend time with your family. 

 

I say, 

My family is not healthy for me right now. 

I say, 

My family is not healthy for me right now. 

I say, 

My family is not healthy for me right now. 

 

(…)” 

 

After my encounter with this poem, “The holidays are for MY healing” circled in my mind for a long time.

 

Second lens: Mary.

With this poem, by Allison K. Garcia. 

 “After I came out to myself, I had to deconstruct and reconstruct every piece of my life

 

Who am I?

Who is God?

What is love? 

What is family?

 

One moment to the next, I am 

Constantly re-evaluating

Recalculating 

Reconfiguring

 

(…)

What ornaments do we keep? 

The one with the bride and groom from a former marriage?

The ones with a white baby Jesus?

What message does that send my brown son?”

 

(…)

 

Reconstructing Christmas can mean an invitation to re-story the season, the time of the year, the Nativity story, and Christmas, for one’s own healing…

 

We could ask ourselves: 

 

What are the “external narratives” that tell us to what to feel, what to do, what to think, and how to celebrate Christmas and the season in certain ways?

We often tell ourselves that “This day. This one day” has to be perfect, like happy nuclear or intergenerational families, gift exchanging, an atmosphere of abundance, sparkling wit, splendid love. Yet, this notion of perfection is deeply intertwined with white supremacy, capitalism, consumerism, heteronormativity, and other dubious status quo. It also reflects the modern Western cultural sense of time pressure, “This day, this one day”. The notion of making a single super-special day comes with high pressure which can lead us to disconnect from ourselves, from the rhythm of Nature, even from family, in this Advent season… Nature is ready to rest. It’s the beautifully darkest season. This is a time for pausing and quietly waiting for renewal. Why are we so driven by the sense of urgency and the pressure of a single day — when the birth of Christ never calls for running around, rushing, unrested. Every day counts. Not one single day. There’s a reason why the old folk song is about the twelve days of Christmas, not just one. 

 

So, we can continue to ask ourselves: 

 

What are the external narratives or frameworks that calls us to feel, do, be, think certain ways about certain things, like the current narrow framework about how to celebrate the holidays? Could you list these narratives? 

 

Versus: Self-creation. The birth of Christ is, ultimately, an invitation to experience the birth of God in us and all creation. 

 

What would restful holidays be like? I don’t mean rest as a reward after all the hard working and overworking, flopping into bed, exhausted. But the rest that allows self-creation, the creation of family, the creation of community, the creation of collective journey and experience for liberating hope. Mary and her family re-formed the idea of what family can be, outside of the norm. Mary’s family did not fit in. At the time, they were not seen by most people as being perfect and holy. They were equivalent to a queer family where Jo or Joseph was an ally to Mary and stepped up to create a family, for the protection of the baby, providing a safe world for the baby’s childhood. 

 

In this Advent season, I want you to think about an internal commitment (vs external messages) to personally heal, hope, and reimagine the birth of God in you. In very personal and collective terms, you could let go of the rituals that exhaust and harm, and think of a new ritual for you. 

 

The new rituals that may be not the same every year… 

The rituals that are not shameful. 

The rituals that are not traumatizing. 

The rituals in which you are celebratory, and free. 

 

I was in a congregation in which Pregnant Mary’s image was highlighted every year throughout the Advent and Christmas seasons. Pregnant, young, vulnerable, and mute. We look, but we never have to listen. As if her pregnancy is all we can see! We talk ABOUT Mary so often, but rarely hear what Marys today have to tell us. 

 

I wonder.. 

 

If Christmas is not just my job — as a minister, 

If Christmas is not just making sure kids get their presents — as a parent, 

If Christmas is not just nostalgia dressed as wonder and mystery… 

 

What would I feel, what would I think, what would I do, how would I relate and find myself not only in connection to the Nativity story but to the rhythm and calling of nature. When I asked myself these questions for the first time, my mind immediately went blank! I had no ritual for myself; it was an open canvas to fill with creativity. I continue asking, what would I like to fill the Advent canvas with? What would I like to explore? What ritual would I reform and rebirth myself in? 

If I celebrate the birth of Jesus and his childhood, I would celebrate the birth of Mary and her, his, or their childhood in which the purest form of God’s genius shines like a star. If we can celebrate the birth of Jesus and his childhood and the birth of Mary and her childhood, we can also celebrate the inner child that is alive deep inside of all of us.

 

IF we can celebrate the creation of the out-of-norm, queer family of Mary, there would no longer be Christians marginalized, due to their differences.

 

Matilde, my friend, would emphasize that queerness is all about community… friends, chosen families, collective care, because cisgender heteronormative individualism doesn’t work. If we focus on only one story, one God, one birth, one moment, even only Mary, even only Jesus, the wild divinity of God is narrowed down and we celebrate the greatness only partially or in a distorted fashion. 

 

I would like to imagine a God. 

The ancient God - who people praised and said was almighty…This old, adult God, trapped in the image and conception of an all powerful, conquering God, started to come out of the shell and prison of his image, and started to learn how he often relentlessly was angry and resentful in certain moments. He started to grieve about losing himself. When he was alone, he screamed inside for liberation.

One day, this God saw a rainbow he hung somewhere in the sky, a long, long time ago, and in that unpredicted, twilight moment, God decided to come out of himself and start the journey of God’s own healing. God walked down to the earth, and found a river and the fine, powder-soft sand of the riverside. Naturally, God wanted to touch the soft sand himself, and his finger started to draw a random shape just following his finger’s movement, and then, looked up and saw a Child playing in the sand too, just like him! Being exhilarated with the purest form of joy, God identified God’s own inner child, in the child and in himself, anticipating the genius of creative play. 

 

God, then, learned what would be God’s own internal commitment for healing. The internal commitment to celebrate the inner child, ready to explore a human world, struggling and persevering, on the earth. Thus, God was birthed into the world as a baby - the same form as all human beings and all other creatures in nature: a baby, the purest form of divine creativity, trusting the sign and the path of the rainbow God hung a long, long time ago for peace on earth, the ritual of peace God created for all who need it. 

Advent Children's Conversation: Imagine a Beautiful Flower, Dec 10th, 2023, Broad View United

Imagine a beautiful flower. 

Not just a cut flower, but the whole body of the flower. The stem, the leaves, the root, … the whole plant that blooms the flower. The all of it, as one. 

 

A week ago, I had a lovely conversation with My friend, Matilde, and we talked about what we celebrate on Christmas. Matty said to me, 

“Think about a plant. 

 

How can a flower bloom? 

IF there was not the flower, already in the body of the plant. 

If God is like a flower, 

how can God bloom, 

IF there was not God, the flower, already in the body of the plant, in the body of the mother” 

If God is in the body of Mary, what this can mean to us is that God is in the body of everyone and everything.. 

We are full of stardust from the oldest stars in the universe… 

We all have the same star-stuff from the bright lights in the sky which have existed since the very beginning of every thing. 

This Advent, I started to think that I would like to join my friend, Matilde, who shared with me a radical recreating vision of what, and who, Christmas can be. We say Christmas is about the birthday of God, the birth of Christ, but indeed, it is also the birth of everyone… All children, all of us, are born of the light, born of the genius and creativity of God. God blows the star sparkles, galaxies are born - the sparkles fly and reach every time and every place… Born and reborn in each time and each space, with everyone and every being.

What we celebrate, or who we celebrate, on Christmas, is not just the birth of Jesus…

The birth of God, the sparkle in all of us, the purest form of God’s creativity, God’s genius, is in every one, every body, every thing in the universe. 

Like my friend asked me, I ask you… 

 

“Think about a plant… 

How can a flower bloom? 

How can God bloom? 

If there was not God, the flower, already in the body of the plant…” 

 

When I think about the birth of Jesus and his childhood, the purest form of God’s creativity, God’s Genius, God’s sparkle is in the body of Jesus…

 

I also think about the birth of Mary, and her childhood, and the purest form of God’s creativity, God’s Genius, God’s sparkle is in the body of Mary… 

 

Then, I think about the birth of everyone and everything… and the purest form of God’s creativity, God’s genius, God’s sparkle is in the body of everyone and everything… 

  

So, Christmas is the time of the year when we are invited to think about the birth of God in Jesus, the birth of God in Mary, the birth of God in you, in me, in everyone and in everything… in all creation… the birth of God in salmon, in snails, in sea otters, in sunflowers, and more. 

 

Imagine a beautiful flower. 

How can a flower bloom? 

How can God bloom? 

If there was not God, the flower, already in the body of the plant…

Solidarity’ a painting my Jeff Dillon. He auctioned off his work to raise funds for UNHCR. Source: https://www.unhcr.ca/news/artists-across-canada-show-support-for-ukraine/

Sermon on rest: Experimenting with Rest - Even God Rested (Genesis 2:1-7), Oct 29th, 2023

Introduction to the scripture (Genesis 2:1-7): 

In these times, when it feels like we can never do enough to heal our hurt, sad and broken world, I invite you to find the message of hope in the Creation Story. I am excited to present to you some reflections on rest from the lived experiences of myself and other People of Colour. The second part of today’s reading tells us what constructs a human being and sustains our wholeness and health. Rest is a resource that revitalizes us, much like a spring that suddenly surges from the depths in dry, barren land, allowing us to hope and live again.

Sermon: Experiment With Rest - Even God Rested. 

 

How do you rest? Some people might have a long list of their favourite ways to rest, while others might scoff and say, “I am much too busy to even think of resting!” In your upbringing, in your family, in your culture, in your career, or even after your retirement, what has been the message that has most impacted your relationship with resting? In your life, is resting generally encouraged? What is the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the words rest or resting? What kinds of activities or times and spaces do you associate with rest and resting? 

 

If it is true, as the Bible says, that God rested (!) after all the action-packed creation work of the first 6 days, by saving one last day for God to enjoy an uninterrupted 24-hour full rest, then that just adds to my admiration of God. At BVU, I have been a Co-lead for a year now, and have learned that when you work more, work harder, work without a break, you cannot stop work immediately to break from work and rest. When you work more, it just gets harder to rest. It is counter-intuitive, isn’t it… After working tirelessly, and to the point of exhaustion, one would think that they would naturally want to completely set aside their work, not even wanting to look at it, and take a break from all of it. Ironically, the reality is that, at least for me, I am still picking up the phone, checking emails, checking PowerPoints, social media notifications, finishing up unfinished tasks. It is challenging to take a break, and rest, uninterrupted, deeply and profoundly. 

 

I had times in the past when the work was overwhelming, and still more work was waiting to be done, surrounding me like a storm, rushing and relentless. I believed I could complete all these commitments, all these pressing tasks on time, and the reward of rest would be there at the end, but I learned from this experience that resting should be already integral, part of the process, not the prize or reward that comes only at the end. Resting must be a regular, routine, ritualized, revitalizing spiritual practice already baked into the process of work, planning, ministry - all aspects of our lives. Because we are an embodied being, we are created to have rest, just like God rested. 

Tricia Hersey, known as the Nap Bishop, emphasizes that rest is a birthright – a divine right for everyone to be able to access, regardless of which social location, work field, working rank, or economical circumstance you might find yourself in. 

 

Last spring, I had not yet learned this important perspective on intentional resting as an essential spiritual practice. I drove myself to the point of burnout, substituting the idea of future rest for the needed reality of rest in the present. Part of that drive comes from my background and culture: coming from Korea, where the cultural message from the 70’s-90’s was all about building a stronger country through economic development, even at the cost of individual rights – including the right to rest. Workers push themselves to their physical breaking point; students go to school all day and then cram school after that, and then go home to study and snatch a few hours sleep before waking early to start the process all over again.

 

In many cultures in the past and even now, under patriarchy, women were not encouraged to rest: caring for elders, caring for children, caring for the extended family were their duties, and the women did not take rest for themselves. My friend Olive says, in Chinese culture (and many Asian cultures), we are raised to be a caretaker/martyr/saviour for our families and shamed for resting and caring for ourselves. … 

Students were constantly messaged to improve their scores to enter the higher-ranked university to ensure their success. Capitalism, patriarchy, colonialism, and White supremacy, push us all, but especially those at the margins, those who deal with more marginalizing factors in their life and career day-to-day, to work harder, to rest less. Those who are in higher income range positions and jobs — they work more to keep that status; those who are in the lower income range positions and jobs - they work more and more to make ends meet. Full time, plus weekend jobs. Students with a couple of jobs. Those who are unemployed cannot rest either from constant worries. 

 

Last spring when I found myself at the point of burn-out, scraping bottom, I encountered Tricia Hersey’s book on resting: Rest is Resistance. I also listened to some Black preachers’ sermons on resting, inspired by the movement Hersey’s book and message sparked.  That first light has become a flame, and the beam of hope and inspiration for many Black spiritual leaders, BIPOC leaders, students and grassroots activists. These young generations and emerging leaders want to reflect seriously on resting as resistance to oppression, and the top item on the list of oppressions is the grinding culture of capitalism. 

 

For some of us whose social location (gender, race, queerness, mental health, disability, economic circumstance, employment, etc) is a barrier, barriers are not just challenges. Barriers offer lenses for us to learn the reality and the truth: If the promises of capitalism — Work more, do more, have more, and you will be happier — do not work for everyone and do not contribute to the true well-being of who they are, these wise young emerging generations would turn around and look for new possibilities and alternative world views and way of life — Our old people will see visions; our young people will dream dreams — . There is a growing movement to intentionally daydream and embrace the kind of radical resting that has power to resist oppression and the status quo; that inspires imagination and brings profound health, physically, mentally, and spiritually.  

 

These generations choose rest as a new methodology and strategy to build resilience in the face of injustice. Black spiritual leader Timothy Atkins shared in his sermon that in this culture of sleep deprivation and rest deprivation, many are learning that hope and happiness don’t come from working harder, doing more, getting more, needing more, having more. Instead, hope comes from when you can rest more. Hope is not the result of sleepless nights. Hope comes when taking a nap in the middle of the day. Many of us know this story: Jesus in the midst of the storm takes a nap in the boat. The water is getting in. The boat is sinking. The wind is rising. The disciples wake up Jesus with loud complaints, getting angry, thinking it is ridiculous that Jesus is sleeping amidst all this… We more often talk about how that story ends: Jesus rebukes the wind, calms the storm.  But what if we give equal attention to how the story begins (with a bit of creative imagination) — the night before, Jesus says, I am tired! Trust, God is faithful, I can rest in the midst of this storm of overworking, worry, stress and strain. . . Nothing can get in the way of my rest. I need to rest. I will rest. Find Good news in rest. 

 

Before I close this reflection, I ask you search up Tricia Hersey and her book Rest as Resistance, and read her clever reflections on rest. Now, I hope you taste of her words and memoir. 

 

“Everything always starts with the personal. The origins of The Nap Ministry begin with the story of my family… My rest resurrection begins with my desperation to find relief from my own exhaustion via curiosity, experimentation, and self-preservation. 

 

I come from a legacy of exhaustion. 

My maternal grandmother, Ora, the muse of this book, a refugee from Jim Crow terrorism, rested her eyes every day for thirty minutes to an hour in an attempt to connect and find peace. My great-grandmother Rhode, I am told, stayed up late nightly on her farm in deep Mississippi with a pistol in her apron pocket to creatively solve any problems from the Ku Klux Klan. The reality for our survival from white supremacy and capitalism is deeply shocking to me. I am in awe at what our bodies can hold. We must lighten our loads. Survival is not the end goal for liberation. We must thrive. We must rest.”

 

“As a child, I would watch my grandmother Ora as she sat on her plastic-covered yellow couch and meditated for thirty minutes every single day. She fled her home in Mississippi with thousands of other African-Americans during the Great Migration of the 1950s. Ora floated up North on a spaceship built from uncertainty and hope as she landed in Chicago. She magically raised eight children, while dodging poverty, racism and the invisibility of being a Black woman in America. Her commitment to “resting her eyes” every day for thirty minutes was radical. Her ability to demand space to “just be” was a form of resistance. 

 

While my grandmother rested her eyes, I would tiptoe around her home trying not to wake her up. I always thought she was sleeping while sitting up. I was curious about her rest practice and thought she was so eccentric. Whenever I would inquire if she was sleeping, her response was always the same: Every shut-eye ain’t sleep. I am resting my eyes and listening for what God wants to tell me.” While all the world around her was attempting to crush her Spirit, she rested and resisted the beast of grind culture. She taught my mother to rest, she taught me to rest. I am humbled to be a vessel to guide thousands on their own rest journey as we embrace rest as a way to make us all more human.”

 

Therefore, friends, 

Experiment with rest. Even God rested. 

Grandmothers rested, and it was resistance. 

Jesus rested, and it was subversive and even controversial to the eyes of the disciples. 

Experiment with rest, and in the act of radical resting, inspire care for ourselves and one another in the spacious sense of time, not from a sense of scarcity about time, but from the abundance. 

 

When we have silence, breathe deep. 

You can just be. You can rest.