28 December 2008                                  
Carolyn L Roberts
Luke 2.21-40

            We all do it; we all adopt certain patterns, certain rituals, that seem right to us as we begin our day, as we prepare for work, as we return home. A ritual is that recognizable series of actions we adopt–consciously and unconsciously–as we go about our daily routines. My preferred morning ritual is to make a cup of double espresso softened with just an ounce of warmed half-n-half, to savor while I read the Washington Post, ideally cover to cover, although sometimes I have to share the comics out of sequence. My neighbor’s ritual is a 5:30a.m. run with three close friends, a ritual disturbed only by the cruelest of weather. John’s is to walk the dog, then read the Frederick News Post, then go for his morning jog before he returns to pick up the Washington Post and the New York Times.

            Other rituals–some  grander than others, also mark our lives: singing the Star-Spangled Banner at the start of a ball game–and if you’re at the Frederick Keys’ game, jangling your keys during the seventh-inning stretch;graduation ceremonies at the completion of an academic program; showers for couples getting married or for expectant parents; parties to mark birthdays and significant anniversaries. Whatever the occasion, we have a ritual to honor it. Maybe part of the human condition is to create rituals as a way of expressing ourselves, and as a means of binding incorporating someone into a particular community. My cousin Bruce tells of his complete surprise when his first wife’s family practically kidnaped him before the wedding reception even started and taught him their family-only recipe for making Tom and Jerry’s.

            But for all our personal and cultural rituals, few take on the symbolic complexity of religious practices. We light Advent wreath candles, sing Silent Night on Christmas Eve, extinguish candles during Tenebrae on Good Friday, or greet Easter morning with the words, “Christ is risen!” and find ourselves caught up in rituals that have bound Christians to one over the centuries. Even today, the fourth day of Christmas, we are entering into two rituals–the reading of Jesus’ presentation at the Temple, which is the lectionary reading for the gospel for the first Sunday of Christmas in Year B, and the ritual of the Moravian Lovefeast.

            Actually, the Presentation of Jesus at the Temple is about 36 days early. Technically, the Presentation falls on 2 February, forty days after Jesus’ birth. That’s because in Jewish practice, a mother who gives birth to a male child was considered unclean for seven days, followed by an additional thirty-three days of purification. [It was longer for the birth of a female child.] So if we start on 25 December, forty days is 2 February–which coincidentally is Groundhog Day, but that’s way too many rituals to deal with here! So we’ll save further reflection on Jesus’ presentation, but allow that story to work within us as we consider the lovefeast.

            The lovefeast is like our thanksgiving dinner–where everyone present is welcome to take part regardless of one’s age or the sophistication or simplicity of one’s faith. It’s an opportunity to reflect on the gift of Christ’s presence in our lives as we share a simple meal shared in the presence of others. The whole idea is to set aside the social barriers that separate us from one another, and instead, strengthen the common bond we share in our Christian faith. It’s not a denial of all that claims our attention–our concerns in the broader community, our anxieties about world affairs, all of those things are present. They will demand their due, but they are set aside for the time being. Now is the time to be nurtured in one another’s presence, and in the presence of God, made known to us in Jesus the Christ.

            In this ritual of hot drink and bread, the most elemental symbols of hospitality and welcome, let us break bread together and be reminded through this ritual of the ways in which we are nourished around a common table. As we take this time to share our common meal, I invite you to talk with those near you, and reflect on the faith rituals that have meaning for you. What are those rituals? And why are they important to you?