Messengers

This season is one of messages and messengers - sacred conveyors, in fact. With the onset of Advent, we prepare ourselves to receive the birth of a "young and fearless Prophet of ancient Galilee." As the hymn of said title exhorts, the messenger himself is in large part the message: "Your life is still a summons to serve humanity." The Hanukkah story, which commences this year on December 1, also recalls a message of triumphant hope amidst the rubble of hopelessness.


Last week, as I feasted with family and friends, the typology of the messenger felt quite near to my heart. Suffice it to say that I found myself elaborating on my ministry at First Parish more than once. Whether reminiscing with old friends in the living room or grabbing a drink at the local bar, the mere utterance of my vocational ambitions triggered an onslaught of questions and confessions. One trip with me to a social gathering dispels any rumor of religion losing its relevance. No, people hunger for an outlet to share their spiritual yearnings and religious hang-ups. And I'm a messenger of such an invitation. 



Rabbi Abraham Heschel once noted: "Man is a messenger who forgot the message." 


In all of my conversations this past week, I wrestled with this very observation. It is so easy to lose sight of the Message behind the message. When one mother spoke of her best friend's emotional struggle to accept her son's sexuality, I heard her own longing for a community of acceptance and love. And when I responded with questions about the social support network of her friend and her friend's son, what I really wanted to say was: your friendship must mean the world to her. And then: they both need a place that will hold them in this time of vulnerability.


First Parish, I have come to believe, is where we messengers re/member the message. Where we recall our call, and where we, as members, live it out.