On this mountain the Lord Almighty will prepare
         a feast of rich food for all peoples
     --Isaiah 25:6 NIV
 
You’ve probably noticed that when it comes time for communion in our worship services I feel the need to say something. It may just be me, but I get the sense that folks are a little impatient when I share a bit in that moment. More than any other denomination I’m aware of, The Christian Church, Disciples of Christ has communion down to a finely tuned machine. Coming from other denominations that at most served communion once a month, many did it only quarterly, I was amazed the first time I saw a Disciples church serve communion. It was as fast as a Nascar pit crew! I guess doing it every week allows a church to get into a rhythm of moving quickly. I appreciate the efficiency, but I just can’t help but slow things down a bit to take in the significance of what’s going on.
 
When we celebrate communion, we are participating in a cosmic drama as directed by God that goes way beyond eating a little wafer and sip of juice. Here are just a few of the things we are participating in.
 
We celebrate God’s unconditional love--One doesn’t have to go far from the front door of our church to find congregations that practice some form of closed communion. This means every time they practice communion they exclude some people. Maybe those excluded are not members of their denomination or they are lapsed church members, divorced or LGBTQ people. In their efforts to honor Christ, they get Jesus backwards and use communion as a weapon to harm people. Routinely in my ministry I have met people who were reduced to tears, because in churches like ours they were included, signifying God still loved them despite what they had experienced in other churches.
 
We celebrate the Kingdom of God--Currently there is concern about the wealthiest people in our society gaining access to the Covid-19 vaccine before others at greater risk. There’s a good reason to fear such a scenario. In virtually every facet of our culture, those with the most wealth and power get access to whatever they want ahead of others who are in need of the basic necessities of life. During communion, all are served regardless of station, class or position. Nobody jumps the line. Everyone is equal before God. This is the kind of thing Jesus taught his followers to do as a part of God’s kingdom.
 
We celebrate the grace of God--As minister, I have the privilege and responsibility to hear people’s struggles. Each Sunday it’s kind of amazing to me that church folk sit there like everything is fine when I know that for some (and I suspect many more) they are experiencing real suffering. People sitting on the same pew as you feel rejected and alone, as if they have failed at life, unworthy of being loved. The bread and cup shared with them is a promise that they do matter, that God does love them in spite of their weaknesses and they are not alone but a part of a community of faith who loves them. Sharing communion is not an empty ritual but rather a ministry to the brokenhearted.
 
We celebrate God’s hope--In the Hebrew Bible and Christian scriptures, the end of history is described as a banquet overflowing with food for all. In Isaiah 25, this “Messianic Banquet” is described as the time when God “will swallow up death forever” and “will wipe away the tears from all faces.” When we share communion on Sundays, God mystically enacts that future hope into our present moment. No, we are surely not free of death and tears, but we experience the assurance that God will do so one day. Communion reminds us we live in hope trusting that despite appearances to the contrary on some Sundays God really is in control.
 
As we finish 2020, when we have been separated from one another due to the pandemic, we can celebrate a bit of that divine hope together each Sunday as we await the day when we shall be together again as a church. We not only possess the hope of God bringing loving closure to all at the end of time, but we also look forward to the end of this pandemic where we can worship together in safety. When that day comes and on all the Sundays that come before and after, please forgive me if I get a little wordy at the communion table. What we share together during communion is one of the greatest things this side of eternity.
 
Grace and Peace,
Rev. Chase Peeples

     Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.
     --Hebrews 13:8 NRSV
 
I know our culture has already put Christmas in its rearview mirror, but according to church tradition, we remain in the season of Christmas which lasts for twelve days (hence the Christmas song). I didn’t grow up knowing anything about the liturgical seasons of the church (this was all too “Catholic” for the Southern Baptist churches I grew up in). Christmas passed and we stopped singing carols in the same way radio stations stop the 24-7 Christmas music on December 26. I’ve grown to like the idea of lingering with Christmas no matter what our culture does, because once the pressure of shopping and family get-togethers has passed, we can focus just on the meaning of Christmas itself, as well as its rich traditions.
 
I’m still learning about the traditions of Christmas. This year I learned about Christmas wreaths, which I have never given much thought to before. Here’s why.
 
When I got married, I came to understand there are two types of people in the world: those with artificial Christmas trees and those with natural Christmas trees. I came from a plastic Christmas tree family. Each year we took the box containing the tree from the basement and assembled our plastic tree. I still have warm feelings of nostalgia when I think of that fake tree. It disappeared in one of my parents’ moves after they became empty nesters. I knew from movies and TV shows that there were people who bought a real tree every Christmas like I also knew people in Australia said, “G’day.” It was interesting cultural trivia but nonetheless utterly foreign.
 
My wife, however, came from a real or natural Christmas tree family. One of our early matrimonial negotiations was over what kind of Christmas tree to get. We settled on a real tree but every year since I have looked longingly towards our storage bins of Christmas decorations missing my plastic tree.
 
Over the years since, I have bought natural Christmas trees at big box home improvement stores and more expensive tree lots. As an associate minister in New York, I led the annual youth Christmas tree sale which was the fundraiser for our youth mission trips. It wasn’t until those sales that I saw people gathering up the pruned branches as if they were precious treasure. You see, not only did I grow up with a plastic Christmas tree but also plastic Christmas wreaths, so it was completely new to me seeing people gather up the branches to make their own wreaths for decorating their homes and even the graves of loved ones. Why were wreaths so special to these folks? I simply had accepted the existence of Christmas wreaths but never thought of what they meant, not until this year, I guess.
 
I came across an article at Time.com entitled, “Christmas Wreaths are a Classic Holiday Decoration With a Surprisingly Deep History.” I wondered about the “deep history” and discovered that the tradition of making Christmas wreaths came from 16th century Germany. Christmas trees were trimmed to fit small rooms and to make them triangular in shape in order to represent the Trinity (Father, Son and Holy Spirit). The Time article quotes author Ace Collins who wrote the book Stories Behind the Great Traditions of Christmas. He notes that the tree trimmings were kept and used because “These people were living in a time when everything in their lives was used until it was gone.” The way I grew up tree trimmings of all kinds were merely yard waste, besides plastic trees had no extra parts, so this idea of using all of the tree is a new concept for me.
 
For Germans living in the tumultuous times of the 1500’s (the Protestant Reformation, the Thirty Years’ War, the rise of the printing press and more), the fir trees and the wreaths made from them were symbols of resilience. In the same way the evergreen trees withstood the dangerous and harsh winters, so could they withstand the danger of their times. The branches twisted into a circle represented eternity, no beginning and no end, so the wreaths became a reminder of the promise of eternal life Christ offered them. The Christmas wreath was a sign of hope in difficult times.
 
In our own difficult times of a pandemic-filled 2020, let us linger in the Christmas season and take in the message of the Christmas wreath. Just as the fir tree weathers a harsh winter, so can we make it through this time of trial. We can hold onto the hope of God’s eternal care for us no matter our temporary struggles. We can trust that just like the circle has no beginning and no end, so does our God, who exists beyond the constraints of our existence but nonetheless chose not to stay apart from us but instead came to be one of us.
 
The last line of the Time.com article caught my attention. It ended with another quote from the author Ace Collins: “We live in a throwaway culture,” says Collins. “The wreath was born out of not throwing things away.” In our disposable culture of convenience that has produced an ecological crisis, we can learn a lesson from our spiritual ancestors who gathered up the scraps from their Christmas tree trimmings, so nothing was wasted. This is a lesson I never learned from the plastic Christmas tree of my upbringing.
 
The concept of nothing being wasted is also perhaps another spiritual offering for us this year. God doesn’t let anything in our lives go to waste, but instead makes use of even our struggles and failures to enable our growing as human beings and as Christians. Just as the trimmings from Christmas trees are gathered up and made into wreaths rich in meaning, so are the pieces of our lives gathered up by God to give us the rich existence we crave. 
 
Seen in this light, I guess twenty-five years into my marriage, I must finally admit I have converted from plastic to natural Christmas trees. 
 
Grace and Peace,
Rev. Chase Peeples.

     ​“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”
     John 1:5

On Christmas Eve we lit the Christ candle. We celebrated the light coming into the world in the person of Jesus, the baby born in Bethlehem. As we finish out this year the great joy we carry with us is the light Christ gives each of us.

We have been in a dark season. But, as promised, the darkness has not overcome the light. We have banded together whether in person or virtually and worked to help our neighbors.

As we begin a new year, let us renew our commitment to be the light. Though we will still be in a dark season, and there remains uncertainty as to when we will gather again in large groups, we can continue to bring the light.

We can feed the hungry.

We can help the homeless.

We can bring the light into this gloomy world by our encouraging one another.

Each of us is a bright spot in an otherwise gloomy world. And each one of us has the power to spread that light to others. It is in our commitment to “cloth ourselves in Christ” Romans 13:14a.

The world we walk in today is the forerunner of the world to come and we have been given the task of building the kingdom now. And that building begins with light.

On the first day of creation, God said, “Let there be light.” Genesis 1:3. And today we are called to be light, just as a new day dawning.

It is our commission to build through service and sacrifice. So, as we step into this New Year, let us recommit to being the light. Let our gifts shine and our joy be complete in Jesus Christ our Lord.
 
Kathy Hendrix

The philosopher William James wrote, “Acceptance of what has happened is the first step to overcoming the consequences of any misfortune." I am a firm believer that denial of pain, especially trauma and grief, is one of the greatest causes of suffering. One does not have to wallow in pain to acknowledge one’s own hurt and sadness. Rather than weakness, it takes courage to admit things in our lives are not what we wish them to be. Once acknowledged, we can then move to acceptance of what we cannot control and devotion of our energy towards what is. If we remain in denial, we miss out on the good things still happening all around us.
 
This Christmas there is so much that is out of our control. Helplessness is a common feeling. So many of our normal rituals and holiday routines are unavailable to us. The holidays are difficult enough for people in grief to journey through, much more so during a pandemic. Acceptance of what we cannot change about our circumstances this Christmas can be a first step towards finding joy in anxious times.
 
The Christmas story we read each year in the Gospel of Luke offers us some perspective on acceptance. The familiar story begins with the words that Caesar Augustus had decreed all the world must undergo a census. Augustus, who took the title of god, made this decree in order to tax and control his empire. This meant everyone had to journey to their hometowns to register. We aren’t told of the disruption this caused Joseph and Mary, especially with her pregnant and near term, but we can safely assume this was difficult, even frightful. I don’t know for sure, but I like to imagine they found a way to accept their circumstances and press onward.
 
The events of that first Christmas night--shepherds bearing the declarations of angels to this couple with a newborn baby--revealed a truth about God’s presence in the midst of such a chaotic time. Despite appearances, Caesar Augustus was not in control of the world, God was. God was up to saving work that is good news for everyone.
 
Just as it was, that first Christmas, God is still up to saving work that is good news for us. Like Mary and Joseph, we can accept what we cannot change and carry on. When we do so, we will find ourselves open to new understandings of God’s grace. Despite appearances to the contrary, God is still in control of our world. Accept what you cannot change this Christmas, and devote your energy to seeing the goodness God is up to!
 
Grace and Peace,
Rev. Chase Peeples

​Arise, shine, for your light has come,
    and the glory of the Lord rises upon you.
See, darkness covers the earth
    and thick darkness is over the peoples,
but the Lord rises upon you
    and his glory appears over you.
--Isaiah 60:1-2 NIV
 
My wife loves Christmas music, so since a local radio station began playing Christmas songs 24-7 in early November the stereo in our den has been blasting yuletide carols. For weeks now, I’ve been puzzling over a line from “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year,” which says along with parties, roasting marshmallows and caroling “there’ll be scary ghost stories.” Scary ghost stories? At Christmas?
 
I should have realized Christmastime is an appropriate time for ghosts, I guess, since, as I mentioned in Sunday’s sermon, my wife’s favorite book is Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. This beloved classic is filled with ghosts. Thanks to her, I’ve actually sat down and read the book, instead of relying on its many adaptations. Most of the film and TV versions leave out what I consider its most haunting scene. In addition to the ghost of Jacob Marley and the ghosts of Christmases past, present and future, Scrooge discovers the whole world is filled with ghosts!
 
The ghost of Scrooge’s friend and business partner Jacob Marley explains to him that he is doomed in his afterlife to walk the earth fettered in chains attached to his accounting ledgers. Because he loved money more than people, he must forever wander the earth seeing the suffering of humanity but be unable to help them. As if this wasn’t bad enough, the ghost leads Scrooge to the window, through which Scrooge sees the following horrific vision:
 
The air was filled with phantoms, wandering hither and thither in restless haste, and moaning as they went. Every one of them wore chains like Marley's Ghost; some few (they might be guilty governments) were linked together; none were free. Many had been personally known to Scrooge in their lives. He had been quite familiar with one old ghost, in a white waistcoat, with a monstrous iron safe attached to its ankle, who cried piteously at being unable to assist a wretched woman with an infant, whom it saw below, upon a door-step. The misery with them all was, clearly, that they sought to interfere, for good, in human matters, and had lost the power for ever.
 
To me, this vision of a world of tortured spirits makes A Christmas Carol into a story much scarier than the horror movies released around Halloween. No wonder this scene is left out of most adaptations of Dickens’ tale—who wants to ponder such things at Christmastime? No one wishes to imagine themselves among such a tortured spectral host. It’s far better to let Scrooge go through his journey with our smug belief that he deserves such a haunted morality lesson and we do not.
 
Yet, the short days and the long cold nights around the winter solstice are made for self-reflection, and at such times nagging doubts about our superiority to Scrooge have a way of sneaking into our minds. A recent article in The Smithsonian describes how our pagan ancestors held perhaps a more honest understanding about how the long nights around solstice made for a time ripe with spirits. The lights from yule logs were meant to keep such spirits at bay. One religious studies professor notes, “The darkest day of the year was seen by many as a time when the dead would have particularly good access to the living,” Who knows what warnings the dead might bear to the living?
 
Perhaps 2020 is an especially good time for us to take note of the ghostly aspects of Christmastime. Our isolation and fear cannot entirely be banished by the trappings of the Christmas season. When the glow from the screens of our phones, tablets and TV’s subsides, we are left to ponder our lives, our deaths and what they all mean, if anything.
 
I don’t believe in ghosts, but I believe many people, myself included, often live as if they were neither alive nor dead. The ghastly vision Scrooge saw outside his window speaks not to our afterlife but the capital “L” Life we are missing in our present existence. Frederick Buechner has this to say about ghosts:
 
What keeps ghosts going seems to be usually some ancient tragedy they can't cut loose from or some dramatic event they are perpetually reenacting or some unfinished business they never seem able to resolve. They are so shadowy that it's hard to believe they exist. Some of the more spectacular hauntings . . . suggest they may have grave doubts on the subject themselves. It seems to be that if they can only make somebody's hair stand on end, possibly their own even, it helps convince them they aren't just figments of their own imagination. They prefer deserted places because they feel deserted. They disappear at cockcrow because the idea of seeing themselves, or being seen, for what they truly are scares the daylights out of them. If you want to see one, take a look in the mirror someday when you yourself are feeling particularly haggard and shadowy.
 
It turns out we aren’t as different from Scrooge as we like to think. Our misplaced priorities and misspent lives sneak into our awareness on these long dark nights around Christmas. That’s the reason we light candles and remind one another of the old story about God’s light entering the world to save us from our ghost-like selves. As we read the promises of the prophets once more, promises given millennia ago but still available to us now, we realize along with Scrooge a different sort of life is possible:
 
Arise, shine, for your light has come,
    and the glory of the Lord rises upon you.
See, darkness covers the earth
    and thick darkness is over the peoples,
but the Lord rises upon you
    and his glory appears over you.
 
Grace and Peace,
Rev. Chase Peeples

     “…. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave
     himself for me.”
     Galatians 2:20b

We have celebrated the first three weeks of Advent by lighting the candles of Hope, Peace and Joy and on this fourth Sunday we light the candle that arguably ties these things together; Love.

Love is perhaps the most under appreciated word in the English language. Unlike Greek or Hebrew, we have only the one word to describe all the shades of affection.

The truth is that we can have affection for anything or anyone. It is a feeling we express about a movie we have seen. An attachment to a particular object that has special meaning. And of course, we love people in our lives, family, friends, even some we may never meet. There is nothing wrong with any of these feelings of attachment that we describe as love, but it does make it harder to express the kind of love that we read of in the Bible.

What is this “love” of God? In the gospel of John, we are told,

     “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him
     shall not perish but have eternal life.”
     John 3:16

What an amazing statement. The creator of all things loves His creation enough to sacrifice everything for that creation. This is where hope comes in. To know that our Father is so deeply committed to us, His creation, that He would send His true son to the cross for us puts the power in hope. It is beyond imagination that we could be so cared about. Our hope is built in the loyalty and devotion that our Creator has for us.

It is this love, that flows freely upon us that assures of peace. Contentment that does not come from the world or circumstances we find ourselves in, but in the indwelling Spirit that is now upon us. Christ’s promise has been fulfilled and the Spirit guides us to a place within our own beings where we can find calm. When we live in Christ, a sense of wellbeing, even in the most difficult times, is possible. This too is a gift of God’s love for us.

When we trust in the promise of the Father, we find the Son and we find Love. What joy we have in the knowledge that Jesus not only “emptied Himself out” (Philippians 2:7) to come to us as a babe, but that He grew into the man who would sacrifice His very life so that we might know what love really is. The story does not end there, it is with great rejoicing that on the third day He rose again. When we live in this belief, joy overflows our spirit and spills out into the world, shedding love all about us.

Love. It ties all of the lights of Advent together and brings us into the grace of the Lord of All Things. And when we let the light of hope, peace and joy filter deep into our being we begin to live in the love of Christ more deeply. That love then flows from us brings the light of love to a broken and hurting world.

Kathy Hendrix

     But [Zechariah and Elizabeth} had no children, because Elizabeth was barren, and both were
     getting on in years.
     --Luke 2:7 NRSV
 
At the age of 48, I am struggling to accept that I am in the second half of my life. I’m well aware that 48 isn’t “old” but I wouldn’t say I feel “young” anymore. I’m beginning to have back pains that I swear I didn’t have only a few years ago. I’m not sure when it happened, but some time ago I stopped listening to popular music altogether. The music from my teens and twenties just sounds better to me than what’s on the radio today. My teenage sons roll their eyes at me when I complain that the music they listen to just doesn’t sound like music to me. I see twenty-somethings and I wonder, “Did I seem so young when I was their age? I remember thinking I was grown up and knew everything.”  It has become a little bit of an effort to look forward to what is still to come in my life, because the pull of looking backward feels so strong.
 
I have talked with a lot of older folks over the years--people in their seventies, eighties and nineties. I have heard them describe what it is like to have more life behind you than in front of you. That always made sense to me, but I’d say now that I’m past mid-life I’m beginning to understand what they mean at a deeper level. There is a temptation that grows ever stronger to believe one’s best days are in the rearview mirror and that feeling brings a particular kind of grief which must be reckoned with.
 
I have been pondering this part of aging, I guess, so when I read writer and minister Tony Robinson’s take on the Advent story of Zechariah and Elizabeth, it rocked my consciousness a bit. We read the story of Zechariah and Elizabeth during Advent, because it is a part of Luke’s story of the birth of Jesus. This older couple have never had children but are informed by an angel that they will have a son, John the Baptist. Like Abraham and Sarah before them, God is blessing an older couple with new life they had believed was impossible. Robinson writes the following about this story:
 
Sometimes in the Christmas focus on children, on the young woman Mary and the birth in the manger, we miss another element in the story of Christ's birth. There is grace here not just for the young, but for the old, or older, as well. It's not hard, is it, to see the possibility of new life and new beginnings, when we are young or in the lives of the young? It may be more difficult to imagine such grace and newness when we are well beyond that time of life, when the future is no longer so open or full of promise as it once seemed. All the more reason then to receive the gift of this part of the story, the promise of grace and new life, not only for the young, but for no-longer-young too. Grace happens, surprise and new life can come, no matter what our age. 
 
No, I don’t believe retirement communities will suddenly erupt with geriatric pregnancies, I’m pretty sure that’s not the point of Luke’s story. Luke wants us to see the story of Jesus Christ is connected with the larger story of God  told to us in the Hebrew Bible. Throughout scripture we find God offering people new life where none seemed possible, abundance where only seemed to exist scarcity. The God of the Bible and of Jesus Christ doesn’t create us with a Sell By Date after which we are spoiled and used up. Blessings await people who have more life in their rearview mirror than out their front windshield.
 
In our culture which worships youth, Robinson correctly notes that it’s probably easier for us to imagine new life with the young Mary and Joseph, but Zechariah and Elizabeth remind us that God’s surprises and new life are for people of all ages.
 
I have known people who acted old, worn out and tired long before they were old enough to really act that way. I have also known people who were old in years but you would never guess it, because they were so full of life that old age didn’t seem to stick to them. I’m beginning to think that a difference between the two might be a trust that more blessings were still to come rather than a fatalistic mindset of life having already passed them by.
 
My teenagers tell me around the dinner table in the evenings about what their favorite YouTuber said that day or what they watched on TikTok and I begin to feel like I have pulled over on the side of life’s freeway with my out of touch blinkers on. Yet, the story of Zechariah and Elizabeth gives me a different outlook. Their story encourages me to keep driving forward with excitement about what is yet to be in this one precious life I’ve been given.
 
Grace and Peace,
Rev. Chase Peeples

In today’s sped up world, waiting for a COVID-19 vaccine has felt like forever, but vaccines have come in record time. Various news outlets have pointed out that prior to this vaccine, the fastest one has ever been developed was four years (that was the vaccine for the mumps). As strange as it may seem, we can actually be thankful that vaccines have been developed so quickly. This may be a small comfort to families of the 308,000 people who have died in our country from the pandemic or the 1.65 million who have died worldwide, much less those who continue to suffer from the effects of the virus, those in quarantine in retirement communities and those affected by the economic meltdown. Yet, it reveals how our perception of time, especially as we are waiting for a certain outcome, is relative.

According to the calendar of the church—or at least churches who pay attention to such things—the Season of Advent, the four Sundays leading up to Christmas, is a time of waiting. It is not idle time but rather a time of acknowledging our need for God to break into our world and disrupt the routines that don’t serve us very well and the ruts of oppression which keep us and others mired in pain. The goal of Advent is for us to be intentional about our waiting, so that when Christmas arrives, we don’t miss it. The “it” is God coming to us in unexpected ways amidst the busyness of our lives. We read the familiar Christmas stories so we can be like the animals in the manger, the shepherds and the Magi who witnessed a miracle most people missed. Our perception of this time matters greatly.

Last week, I shared what the author Frederick Buechner had to say about this time and how our perception of it can reveal a blessing.

The house lights go off and the footlights come on. Even the chattiest stop chattering as they wait in darkness for the curtain to rise. In the orchestra pit, the violin bows are poised. The conductor has raised his baton . . . The extraordinary thing that is about to happen is matched only by the extraordinary moment just before it happens. Advent is the name of that moment.

Advent is the moment before THE moment, and that anticipation can be joyful.

I wonder if our whole culture is in a kind of Advent moment as we wait for vaccines to roll out enabling us to resume the activities we have for so long taken for granted but which the pandemic has revealed to us are sacred—watching a movie in a movie theatre, watching a baseball, soccer or football game in the stands, watching a concert or a play, even breathing in fresh air without a mask on! As tired as we all are (me included) of this pandemic, as sad as we may be this coming week as we forego our usual holiday traditions, is there any way to look to a brighter future and to bask in the anticipation of it? Is that too ridiculous a thought? I am not sure, but I hope not.

This morning I talked on the phone with PHCC’s Board chairperson, Jill Watson. We discussed our hopes for next summer and next fall. Would people come back to church? Would our youth, children and their parents return? Would our usual events resume? Or are people too scattered? Would things at PHCC return to normal?

What is normal? Do we even want things to return to normal? Do we want things to be like they were before the pandemic or do we dare to dream of something new and better happening? We are in the moment before the moment—before things open up again—can we dare to entertain an even brighter future for our church?

I know it’s a lot to ask of church people a week before Christmas to think beyond the holidays, but I’m wanting to plant some seeds in you so that when winter passes and so does COVID-19 something might sprout into growth. As you grieve what is lost this Christmas, dare to entertain some hopes for what you will do when the vaccines have done their job and we can go out into the world safely. Make a list of things you would like to do when things are safe again, so when the time comes you can get out and do them. As you look to the future with some hope, add some things to your list regarding your church. Beyond just coming on Sundays to worship, what do you want your church to do and be? Dare to think of some new things!

As I talked with Jill Watson this morning, I had a familiar feeling come over me. I’ve spent close to twenty years in declining churches trying to convince people to care enough about their own church, so they do more than complain about how it’s not like it used to be. I’m not talking about the core group of folks who do everything at church no matter what and are likely burnt out from it. No, I’m taking about most church members who look at the bigger churches on the block and complain about how we aren’t like them. Well, most churches aren’t like the big ones, because most churches don’t have members who are excited and committed to a future for their own church. Truthfully, I’m tired of trying to convince people to be more than consumers of their at churches. Your next pastor won’t want to do that either.

If you wish to be non-invested consumers of church, there are plenty of big churches out there for you. But if you wanted to get excited about church, a spiritual community that transforms your life for the better and does the same for our world, what would that church look like?

What will excite your next pastor and will attract them to you like a moth to a flame is a church of people who are entertaining dreams of that look like something new--church that doesn’t look like the types of churches who have been dying for decades but is open to God doing a new thing. What if being a part of PHCC felt like something as fresh as it will feel like to walk again out in the world without a mask on? Most churches even before the pandemic felt more like a burden than something to be excited about. What dreams for PHCC excite you when you dare to think about them?

Whatever they are it’s not too soon, in this moment before the moment, to start getting excited about new life after COVID-19!

Grace and Peace,
Rev. Chase Peeples

     For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him
     shall not perish but have eternal life.
     --John 3:16 NIV

My father was a last-minute Christmas present buyer. It was pretty easy for my sister and I to know which “Santa Claus” presents under the tree came from Dad, because they were, uh, weird. Mom bought the stuff we had been wishing for, but Dad’s presents looked like he ran through a drugstore on Christmas Eve. I remember as a young kid having to learn the fine art of expressing gratitude for something I didn’t really want. I had to learn how to be a good receiver.

We are bombarded with advertising urging us to be good givers this time of year, but we don’t hear much about how to be good receivers. It’s easy to express delight and gratitude for things we want, much more difficult to do so for the ones we know we will re-gift or send on to the thrift store. There is a certain art to learning how to make your eyes match your smile when you receive an unwanted present. If you can’t pull it off, you look like a psychopath smiling as your eyes look confused, angry and/or sad.

It is difficult to be a good receiver, because culturally we learn that there is a power dynamic involved. The one who gives is in control. The one who gives isn’t perceived as a “taker” or somehow “less than.” Who doesn’t want to be seen as self-sufficient enough to provide gifts for others?

I read a quotation today about Christmas and it has stuck in my head, so I figured I would pass it on to you. It’s by Will Willimon, one-time dean of the chapel at Duke University and later a United Methodist bishop. He writes:

The Christmas story is not about how blessed it is to be givers but about how essential it is to see ourselves as receivers. We prefer to think of ourselves as givers—powerful, competent, self-sufficient, capable people whose goodness motivates us to employ some of our power, competence and gifts to benefit the less fortunate. Which is a direct contradiction of the biblical account of the first Christmas. There we are portrayed not as the givers we wish we were but as the receivers we are.

Now wait a minute, you may be thinking, “Doesn’t the Good Book say, ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.’” Well, yes, actually it does, in Acts 20:35. Truth be told, I had to look it up, because I wasn’t sure if that saying really was in the Bible or just a saying people wrongly believe is in the Bible, like “God helps those who help themselves.” There are plenty of other verses too, which speak to God’s desire for us to be generous givers.

There are, however, plenty of verses which also urge us to be grateful to God for the blessings we have been given. I hate to say it, but I often treat the blessings of this life as if I just unwrapped a last-minute Christmas present bought at a drug store. My eyes don’t match my smile as I say thanks to God, assuming I say thanks at all. It is difficult to remember before I ever gave anything to anyone, I was a receiver.

I regularly hear critics of Christianity describe worship services as some kind of party we throw for God. Once I had a man ask me, “Just how insecure is your God that you need to tell him how great he is all the time?” I can’t remember what I replied, but I’m sure it wasn’t very clever. A good response would have been to say that the thanks and praise we offer to God when we worship aren’t to soothe God’s fragile ego but rather to puncture our inflated sense of entitlement. We need continual reminders to be good receivers and have gratitude in our lives.

If Christians learn any Bible verse, they are likely to learn John 3:16 which says, “God so loved the world that he gave his son.” It is fair to say that if we are ever to be good givers, we can only do so once we understand we were first receivers.

This Christmas, may you give out of a sense of gratitude for all you have been given, understanding that you have received more than you can ever repay.

Grace and Peace,
Rev. Chase Peeples 

     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.
     --Luke 2:7 NRSV

This verse has inspired untold thousands of Christmas cards, paintings, sculptures, TV commercials and Christmas pageants. We have portrayed it in such monumental ways that it is a bit difficult to remember how absurd it is. Sure, the image of mother and newborn child is always beautiful, but the Gospel of Luke asks us to believe that somehow the God of the universe is present in this newborn fragile infant born in a backwater village in the Roman empire. It’s a little crazy, right?

Sometimes it’s okay to think the promises of Christmastime are crazy. It can be difficult to believe the promises of “peace on earth” and “do not be afraid” in a world where thousands of people die each day of COVID-19. The serenity we imagine present at the nativity may look about as real life as a Hallmark Christmas movie; a feel-good escape but not how the world really works.

My family just watched again a movie that has become one of our go-to Christmas movie favorites: Daddy’s Home 2. Granted, in order to enjoy it, you’ve got to be okay with some foul language and also be able to enjoy Mel Gibson without remembering some of the awful things he has said and done, but it’s a hilarious comedy that actually has a good message about our pain-filled families. I won’t spoil too much by sharing that there’s a scene when this blended family of parents, step-parents, children, step-children, grandparents and step-grandparents attempt to do a live nativity together that ends up in a disaster. Their attempt to recreate the solemnity and peace of your typical nativity scene ends up in an over-the-top family fight. The scene is funny because we know life often looks more like a Will Farrell movie than a picture on a Christmas card.

Even though so many Christians act as if Christianity is perfectly reasonable, the story of Jesus Christ is utterly unreasonable—that’s what is so great about it! Despite appearances to the contrary, there is still good in the world, not just a sprinkle here and there but the ultimate good ness of the God of the universe who does everything to demonstrate that goodness to us, even taking the form of a helpless baby to prove the point. All the pain and difficulty of this world which seems so overwhelming isn’t the way this universe ultimately works. There really is a Creator behind it all, one who loves each one of us more than we can imagine or comprehend.

So, don’t worry if believing in the promises of Christmas seems crazy to you this year. You are in good company. There’s a good reason the Bible is full of people questioning what God is up to and wondering why God allows the pain we experience; life can be hard and believing in hope, peace, joy and love sometimes seems near impossible.

Sometimes we have to just embrace the craziness of it all in order to find what God is up to. So, go ahead send the cards, buy the presents, binge watch the cheesy Christmas movies and sing your favorite Christmas songs, just don’t be surprised if your cynicism turns to wonder and your crying turns to laughter and before you know it, believing the most powerful being in the universe became a helpless infant in order to show us how to love may not seem so crazy after all.
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Grace and Peace,
Rev. Chase Peeples