Love Transforms Us

The last Sunday in Advent is about love.

Of course, the incarnation—God becoming human in Jesus—is the most obvious demonstration of God’s unconditional love for us.

God coming to earth is one more instance of something that happens over and over again in the Hebrew Bible—God always comes to us.

God doesn’t wait for us to be prepared or perfect.

God comes to us where we are.

And that is often lost, broken, and afraid.

But God comes to us still—even though we often resist or are just unaware of God’s presence.

And God demonstrates God’s special love for those on the margins—those who are overlooked or even oppressed.

Because God comes as a defenseless child—a brown-skinned child born into poverty in an occupied nation.

But that divine love is not the only kind of love we see in today’s gospel.

Even before Joseph is visited by the angel, he intends to quietly divorce her.

He doesn’t want to embarrass her, subject her to being ostracized by the community, or perhaps even risk potential violence against her.

He could have made a stink.

He could have told everyone that Mary was pregnant with a baby that wasn’t his.

In the patriarchal context of first-century Israel, it would have been his right.

But he doesn’t.

He protects her.

He shows love for her, even though he is probably hurt and confused—or perhaps even angry.

And together, Mary and Joseph demonstrate their love for God.

Joseph listens to the words of the angel.

They get married—ensuring Jesus suffers no stigma in the community.

They name him Jesus.

And they raise him together.

They show a faithfulness to God’s plan for them.

But the amazing thing about love isn’t the many different kinds of love—or myriad ways that love is demonstrated.

The amazing thing about love is its power to transform us.

When we are young and naïve, we change ourselves to earn love.

We lose weight.

I’ve heard some people even try to gain weight.

We change our looks—get a new hairstyle or change the way we dress.

We pretend to like things we don’t—or dislike things that we do.

But those are superficial changes, not transformation.

The world can be an ugly place.

Most of us experienced trauma of one kind or another.

Trauma causes pain.

But it’s what we do with that pain that matters.

Some people transmit their pain.

They lash out in anger.

They do mean things because they want everyone to feel as bad as they do.

Others turn that pain inward.

They sabotage their relationships.

They abuse drugs or alcohol.

They overeat or starve themselves.

They cut themselves or attempt suicide.

But rather than transmitting pain, love can allow us to transform it into action.

Sometimes, it is our love for ourselves that transforms us.

Sometimes, it is the love of others.

Still others, it is the love of God.

Some of you know that I was unchurched for a time.

I had been an active member of the Lutheran church in my town, where I was active in their youth ministry.

I was scheduled to be a chaperone for a Youth Gathering in Washington, DC.

The night before the retreat, I got a call from the pastor.

Someone in the congregation had outed me.

The pastor asked me, “are you gay?”

I never hid who I was, but this was the mid-90’s.

It was before Will and Grace, before effective treatment of HIV was commonplace, and way before marriage equality seemed possible.

Although I never hid being gay, it also wasn’t something that I broadcast.

It was one facet of who I was, and I only shared with people who I became close enough to for it to be relevant.

But, since he asked and I was by no means ashamed, I answered, “yes”.

He responded that I could not chaperone the Washington trip and I could no longer do youth ministry.

I was devastated.

I tried to stay but eventually it was a wound that wouldn’t heal so I left.

That was a traumatic event.

It caused me pain.

I could have let that pain consume me.

I could have lashed out at the pastor or the person that outed me.

I could have closed the door on organized religion forever.

But I still loved myself.

And I still loved God—and knew God loved me.

And eventually I found my way to another church where people loved me.

And all that love—love of self, love of God, and love of others—was transformative.

It changed me.

And it transformed my pain.

It turned my pain into action.

It called me to ministry.

It brought me to seminary.

It gave me mission.

Mission to help others who have been harmed by the church to heal.

Mission to serve others who have been pushed aside, silenced, or oppressed.

Mission to free those who are captive to their own hate and prejudice.

Mission to reform the church.

I am a radically different person than I was back when I was ousted from youth ministry.

The fundamentals of who I am was there.

But I could not do back then what I can do now.

I had not yet been transformed—transformed by the power of love.

Some of you may find me too radical—too anxious to reject the status quo and embrace change.

Others may find me not radical enough.

For those that find me too radical, it may disturb you to know that I actually hold myself back.

As someone who enjoys a lot of privilege as a white, middle-class, educated, cis-gender male, I try to hang back and let others with less privilege lead.

For those of you that think I am not radical enough, speak up.

Know that I will support you—especially if you lack the privilege that I benefit from.

And know that I will use my privilege to magnify your voice.

But, whether you think I am too radical, not radical enough, or just right, know that Jesus was way more radical than I am.

I just follow his example.

And he didn’t have to be transformed.

He was radical from the start.

The passage in Matthew before today’s gospel lesson contains Jesus’ genealogy.

And it contains 5 women: Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, Bathsheba, and Mary.

And each of those women were countercultural in some way.

Not to mention that, in a patriarchal society like Jesus’, including women in a genealogy was countercultural in itself.

So, Jesus was radical from birth.

Jesus loved without expecting anything in return.

He forgave his enemies.

He led by serving.

He rejected wealth and power.

Each one of those characteristics were radical and countercultural for his time.

And they all have their foundation in love.

A love so intense that God came to live with us on earth.

A love so intense that Jesus wanted to show us a better way of being.

Through his words and through his actions, he tried to show us how to love.

How to love God and feel God’s presence always.

How to love our neighbors and see the divine image in them that we all share.

And how to be transformed by that love.

Transformed into the Body of Christ.

Transformed into citizens of the Kin-dom.

Let us pray:

Good and gracious God, send your Holy Spirit to open our hearts to your divine presence.

Fill us with your unconditional love, transforming our pains and our traumas into acts of compassion.

We love you.

Help us to demonstrate that love by loving our neighbors as radically as Jesus showed us to do.

As we celebrate the coming of the Christ child—your divine light in our darkness—may our actions reflect that light into the world and be a beacon of your hope, peace, joy, and love for all.

May this contemplation on God’s word keep our hearts and minds on Christ Jesus.

Amen.