"Hopeful Labor"

Matthew 1:18-15

Luke 2:1-6

A Sermon preached by the Rev. Douglas M. Donley

December 18, 2005

University Baptist Church

Minneapolis, MN

We are now at the fourth Sunday in Advent. The tree will be trimmed soon, the colors will change from Advent blue to Christmas red and green, the cookies will be eaten, and the Christmas carols will be resurrected once again from their Advent dormancy. But before we get there, before Jesus is born, we need to go through labor.

The work of Christianity ought to be hopeful labor. I encourage you to think about the labor that might give life to you and those around you. We engage in plenty of labor at Christmas time. God knows we need some hope to get us through.

Now the word labor can be taken a number of ways.

Of course, there is the labor Mary and all mothers feel as they culminate nine months or so of pregnancy and bring forth a new life that will likely change all of their outlooks on the world. Although that’s the reason for the season, it’s seldom the kind of labor that dominates our discussions.

When people think of the labor that surrounds Christmas, we think of people racing each other to the malls. We think of people doing the one-up-manship of gift giving and receiving. We think of the long drives or the long waits in airport terminals. We think of back breaking snow shoveling that doesn’t seem to ever end. All of this is the labor of Christmas. Some of it makes us a bit irritable, a bit off-kilter, a bit well, unChristmassy. The hope for some of us is that the labor will be over soon.

Then there is the labor that we associate with work and wages. For many of us, this is labor that brings forth life. When we work in a job we love, then there is great hope that comes from and through the labor. I know some of you really love your work. You are blessed with jobs that you love, with co-workers who support you and with whom you like to spend your time. Your work is fulfilling and it is making a difference in the world, or at least your world. There is enough money and enough satisfaction to keep you coming back and to keep your commitment high. Good for you. You are one of the blessed.

Then there is the labor that feels like it is without hope. That’s the labor we busy ourselves with that gives birth to nothing but frustration and dismay. This is the dead-end job where you are paid too little, where your skills are under-appreciated, where you end up so exhausted that you can’t think of anything else to do. Or worse, there is the job that puts you in an ethical bind and takes all of your energy just to get by from day to day. Some of us know too well what this is like.

I think of the workers who are on the verge of agreeing to a very poor contract settlement with Northwest Airlines while the CEO’s walked away with hundreds of millions in dollars right before Northwest declared bankruptcy.

We all know that labor comes before the birth. Think of the times of your life when you are in hard labor. Labor hardly feels worth it unless there is some hope at the end. Labor without hope breeds cynicism and despair. Does the labor we engage in have hope at its end? I sure hope so. God knows we need hope. And that is precisely what Christmas is all about. But we can’t hurry there too fast. True hope comes after labor. It’s like resurrection can’t happen without Good Friday. We need to remember the proper place of both labor and hope.

There’s an odd parallel with seemingly hopeless labor and Mary’s physical labor. Now those who have given birth know that it is more than a physical thing. It is emotional, existential, and spiritual all rolled in with excruciating pain. Would that those around labor could receive an epidural. It’s hard seeing the one you love go through such pain. You need some hope to get you through it. Think about how Mary and Joseph sought out that hope while she was in labor.

I imagine Mary and Joseph trying to find a place to sleep while Mary was about to burst at the seems. I imagine that it was a difficult and painful experience. It was a time when they were shunned by those who were supposed to accept them. After all, they went to Joseph’s family town. Surely, he had kinfolk there. But none of them would have him. I think we ought to look at the extended family that rejected Joseph and Mary.

Imagine the cruelty. Imagine the presumption. Even if you didn’t like the circumstances of Mary’s pregnancy, it would have been cruel and unusual punishment to not let them in their homes when she was in the throws of labor. It sounds kinda like torture. Talk about hitting someone when they’re down. Maybe they thought this would teach them to do better family planning.

So Mary had to go to the only place where she would receive welcome, amongst animals. And having been treated like an animal, she brought forth a child whom she would teach to never, NEVER, NEVER let anyone tell you you were unworthy. Jesus would say over and over again that the first shall be last and the last shall be first. And that hope was going to be born in each and every person who opens their homes and their hearts to another. Mary went through labor knowing that hope would win out over exclusion, that life would triumph over death, that God would be faithful even when family relationships were torturous. That’s what we celebrate at Christmas: the birth or rebirth of hope; the recommitment to engaging in labor that will bring hope.

When people come to the door or call us up wondering if there is a possibility of us helping with their family’s Christmas in the form of some presents, some clothing, some food, our local miracle worker Chea Castro is there. She mobilizes her army of donors and makes sure that the neediest are cared for. Before the week is out, she will make a list and check it twice making sure that no one is shunned by the good people of UBC—regardless of whether they are naughty or nice.

This is an example of hopeful labor. Labor with a purpose. Labor that is worthwhile. Labor that will either change lives or at least give healing balm in one’s time of need. I think this is part of the Advent waiting. We want to make sure that our labor, our preparations are going to be filled with hope and joy.

Think of good labor out there:

Mary’s a good example. She recognized that even though parts of her family had rejected her, other parts hadn’t. Plus, she had inspiration from God and a new family of shepherds and Magi to support her through the new labor of motherhood.

Other examples of hopeful labor include:

Working to secure a home and respite for a family from far away, like we did for Tin Aye, Esther and Lay Taw Du and their families.

Serving meals and giving gifts to those without much to speak of, like many of us did this week as we served meals on wheels and still more of us will do on December 30^th at Loaves and Fishes.

Supporting movements for peace throughout the world like we do through the Baptist Peace Fellowship of North America.

Supporting health in Honduras, like our own Prairie will do in the months ahead.

Helping people get a good education like we do when we support the School of our sister church in Leon Nicaragua.

Advocating for affordable housing, living wages, an end to warfare and a church and society where people are never judged by who they love, but only by how much love they can share. That’s some hopeful labor. I’d even call this a bit of subversive spirituality.

The labor in which we engage must be hopeful, otherwise it would be filled with despair and cynicism. God wants and needs more than that out of us.

Sisters and brothers, consider the labor of your life. Is it a labor of drudgery, a labor of love, a labor of hope?

If it doesn’t have the kind of hope that you need, then maybe it’s time to find a place where hope can abound.

Find a place where you can make a difference.

Find a person who needs your loving embrace.

Find a movement that needs your support.

Find a movement that you are passionate about and that brings you and others around you hope.

Long-time member Lou Mata died yesterday. Her family told me that Sundays were a holy time for the family. It was not only because of going to church. It was because of the pot of spaghetti sauce that was always on the stove. Lou used to make this sauce and there would be a steady stream of people who would come through her door, always knowing that the welcome mat would be open for them. All they needed to do was to throw on some more pasta. I imagine her now being served a similar meal this Sunday, only the cooks are angels who give thanks to Lou for the hope she gave to so many during her 86 years on earth.

Hope, my friends, is contagious.

If you can find a hopeful labor, then you are ready to receive the Christmas spirit. And so are we. For you are the hope we have been waiting for.

May all that is hopeful gestating inside of you burst forth at Christmas and change the landscape of our furrowed brows with a hope that breeds joy and inspiration and light and love to all it touches.

May we all welcome that hopeful labor into our homes this Christmas season.