|
For So the Children Come A Worship Service with Child Dedication By the Reverends Mark W. Christian & Jonalu Johnstone First Unitarian Church of Oklahoma City Sunday December 18, 2005
Reading Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays The Reverend Mark W. Christian I was asked to write a counter-point to the emerging point of view of some Christians that wishing someone “Happy Holidays” somehow cheapens Christmas. This is the piece that I submitted for publication in today’s Sunday Oklahoman. I wish people “Merry Christmas.” I also wish them “Happy Hanukkah.” I have even been known to wish someone a “Cool Yule.” I’m perfectly happy saying “Happy Holidays” or “Season’s Greetings” as well. I don’t believe celebrating the inbreaking of hope to be the exclusive domain of any one religion. I don’t believe other people’s celebrations diminish my faith. It is a sign of spiritual maturity to be sensitive to others and not insist that everyone celebrate things just the way I do. It seems that some people are spoiling for a fight right now. If there was ever a time when we shouldn’t be initiating ill will this is it. The blessing the angels offered was “Peace on earth, Goodwill to ALL” not “Goodwill to SOME.” I don’t think we should demand that everyone else do what we do. The contrived conflict between Christmas and the other celebrations of the season seems to abandon the real message of this holy time. Wherever a person finds hope, I wish them health and happiness. Whether it’s the birth of a Savior, remembering the miracle of an oil lamp burning beyond its reservoir or the return of the sun as part of the pagan observance of the solstice—the inbreaking of hope is something to be cherished. Merry Christmas. Happy Hanukkah. Yuletide Blessings. Happy Holidays.
Meditation and Prayer Bring Us To Christmas Ralph N. Helverson Bring us to Christmas where, for a season, we may escape the routine world of fact and find the poetry of life, surprises in the familiar, until, with a new vision, we may see what we failed to see before. Bring us to Christmas where, in the fireside world of fancy, we may find the innocence of life, the gift of a childlike heart again and encompass by loving more than we understand by logic. Bring us to Christmas where, at the altar of wonder, we take counsel of simplicity and become attuned to the mystery in our own hearts and of the universal mythic image in all of us. Bring us to Christmas where, in the world of imagination and delight, we tell stories with song and legend and another realm of human wisdom. Bring us to Christmas where, in the moments of the spirit’s triumph in the daily round, we may overcome loneliness, face separation, accept change, contain conflicts, be sustained through all times of hardship, and live valiantly. Bring us to Christmas where, in moments of great contemplation, we become more aware of primary concerns – peace in the world, justice for the excluded, community built by goodwill. Bring us to Christmas where, by bringing out our best selves, we may light candles in the darkness and make prayers to the music of the world. Bring us to Christmas by eyes that see, ears that hear, and hearts that understand.
For So the Children Come A Sermon with Child Dedication by the Reverend Mark W. Christian First Unitarian Church of Oklahoma City Sunday December 18, 2005 In late 1957 or early 1958 I was christened in this very sanctuary by Dr. Frank Holmes. His portrait and bust can be viewed in the hallway just outside the sanctuary. I was about six months old and family lore maintains that jabbered away through the whole ceremony—something I see very clearly now as an early sign of “Pulpit Envy.” I note that by the late 1950s Unitarians had shifted away from baptizing children—the act of washing away sins and the promise of everlasting life—in favor of Christening—an act more associated with instilling the values of Jesus in our children. This was true even here—a congregation that continued to recite the Lord’s Prayer each week well into the 1970s. These days, for the most part, Unitarians don’t “Christen” children anymore. The language we have adopted talks about Child Dedication over Christening or Baptizing. In a few minutes we will dedicate five children from three of our church families. The ceremony of child dedication is a kind of covenanting, of promising. It is a promise between parents and congregation, congregation and parents; parent to child and congregation to child. This ritual is still far away from the notion of traditional baptism. We don’t pretend there is sin that needs to be washed off from these young lives. We don’t pretend that our actions today can, by some form of divine fiat, place a person on a road to eternal life. The actions we undertake today, in and of themselves, won’t “Save” a child’s soul. This ceremony does not “make” someone a Unitarian. What happens is that parents and family and our church community pledge to nurture and shape these young lives. We pledge to help build a world that is increasingly humane, increasingly compassionate and increasingly just for these children to live in. While we don’t “Save” souls—we can, and do, commit ourselves to helping these young children grow their souls. The funny thing is that in doing all these things to transform the world and transform these children our world is transformed; we are transformed. Our act of child dedication, while quite different from traditional baptism, does hold true to the spirit of the christenings offered by this church in generations past. My understanding is that those Christenings were about holding out the values of Jesus as exemplary, something to be taught and instilled in the new life brought before the church. We have long been a church more interested in the religion of Jesus than the religion about Christ. This was true in the 1950s and it is true today. These days we look beyond the bible, we may look beyond Jesus, but make no mistake—we have not abandoned the values that Jesus taught and embodied. Love of neighbor, self and God is still at the core of our faith. The universality of humanity is as much a part of us today as ever. Compassion for the hurting—whether that pain is physical, emotional or spiritual—is still in our heart. Committing our selves to the service of something beyond our own lives is still a marker of this faith. We find these values in the stories of Jesus. We find them in the Hebrew Scriptures that Jesus himself would have held as holy. We find them on other religious paths—in Buddhism and Hinduism and Islam and Taoism. We find them on a path leading to and from the Goddess. We find them in the poets and playwrights, novelists and storytellers who worked outside the sphere of organized religion. We find these values in science and philosophy and ethics. Wherever we find that which inspires us to more fuller, more humane, living we treasure and call holy ground. It is to that holy life, write large, that our children are dedicated. Life itself is holy. All life is holy. Perhaps nothing is more holy to us than young life, new life, the laughter of children and the divine spark alive in their hearts and minds. To this end we dedicate children. We dedicate them not to serve our church—but to serve life. As symbols of this call to a life of love, compassion, wisdom and justice we employ two symbols, water and a rose. Water is the source of life. Water flows through all our bodies and connects us with all that has ever lived and all that will live. The water with which we will dedicate these children is a reminder that life must be nourished if it is to sustain us through all our days. Water passes through us in the same way that the Spirit of Life and Living does its work by passing through us. Water reminds us that we are never far from the fount of all life—therefore we are never very far from hope, we are never very far from the Holy, never far from God. The rose is a symbol of the unfolding nature of life. Roses begin as tiny buds and unfold into beautiful, many faceted, flowers. So, too, the young lives that come before us today will develop and unfurl in ways we can only imagine. We have removed the thorns from these roses, but we cannot let their beauty hide the truth that the lives we live are filled with thorns. Try as we may, it is impossible to remove the real thorns from the lives these children will live. We would also like to stop roses from fading in color and losing their petals—but we can’t. We would like to be able to protect these young lives from loss and aging. We can’t. We can and do, however, pledge to walk together—we with them and they with us—as we travel along from bud to flower to fallen petal in our lives. These roses, then, are reminders of the beauty of life, but it is also a reminder that when we encounter our mortality that this church is available for support and comfort.I invite the families who have chosen to have their children dedicated today to join Religious Education Director Terry Ward, the Reverend Jonalu Johnstone and me here before the congregation. Today we dedicate the following children. Catalina Amanda Flansburg, daughter of Sundra Flansburg Claire June Foster, daughter of Matt & Jenny Foster Campbell Marie, Clark Ellis, and Claire Elise Tankersley, Children of Trey and Jennifer Tankersley (Terry) Sundra, Matt and Jenny, Trey and Jennifer—Do you and your families pledge to treasure these young lives? Do you pledge to nurture them in life’s ways that they may grow to be loving, compassionate and just? (Jonalu) To the members of this church. Do you welcome these children into your midst? Do you promise to assist these parents to raise these children who can transform our world that is more characterized with love, compassion and justice? (Mark) Therefore we dedicate these children to the highest values of life and faith which we hold. (Naming each child and touching rose dipped in water to the top of the head, lips, chest and hand) May your thoughts be wise. May your lips speak truth. May your heart know love. May your hands do justly. Thank you.
The Sunday before Christmas seems a natural time to commit ourselves anew to the preciousness of life. The holiness of both Christmas and of children is expressed in the words or Sophia Fahs—with which we close. For so the children come And so they have been coming. Always the same way they come Born of the seed of a man and a woman. No angels herald their beginnings. No prophets predict their future courses. No wise men see a star To show where to find the babe that will save humankind. Yet each night a child is born is a holy night, Fathers and mothers--sitting beside their children's cribs Feel glory in the sight of a new beginning. They ask "Where and how will this new life end? Or will it ever end?" Each night a child is born is a holy night-- A time for singing. A time for wondering. A time for worshipping. AMEN
|
