Christmas As Improvisation

Some years ago, I was over at Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary along with members of my colleague group for a seminar as a part of our participation in the College of Pastoral Leaders. The theme of this seminar was “Improvisation,” and how that related to excellence in ministry. The leadership of the event made good use of several jazz musicians as well as some local artists from the Austin area. I have never been a big jazz fan, but I am learning to appreciate it more and more at this point in my life. I am intrigued by the way improvisation works within the mind and fingers of an artist or a musician. I had to admit that this whole idea of improvisation in ministry was a compelling concept. Now in this Advent/Christmastide season, I find myself drawn to share some thoughts on how our respective ministries might be strengthened by a little (or a lot of) improvisation. One of the definitions of improvisation that I took away from that Austin experience is this: “improvisation is the art of transforming what you have before you into something so glorious that it takes your breath away and people cannot help but be awed in its presence.” Generally speaking, in the visual arts or in the auditory arts, there is always a central theme around which the artist shapes his or her creation. If the artist, or someone familiar with the artist's work, wants to do some improvisation on that person's artistic creation, it must be done in a manner that this central theme is not lost. As we think about improvisation in ministry, and ministry in this particular season, the central theme of Christmas is salvation – for unto us a child is born … and he shall save his people from their sins. In a post modern, post Christian culture, I have found that even within Christian communities, we barely give lip service to the gospel message of salvation; in the grand scheme of what seems important at this time of year, how many of us give much thought to salvation? On one of the radio stations here in Houston that plays continuous Christmas music, the words from “Silent Night” were changed from “our savior is born,” to “the savior is born” and I wonder how many people caught the change. In the original, it is personal; in the change, it is not. In a commentary on National Public Radio, Adam Gopnik spoke of how he was into all the glitz and false piety he saw around him there in his home of New York City from the middle of November through the month of December. I believe Gopnik saw something of the improvisation of it all; there is still a thread, a theme, an idea of the nativity that pointed to something beyond the ornamentation at Rockefeller Center and the window displays along Fifth Avenue. It is the idea of rebirth and renewal tied so deeply to the rhythms of the season and to the rhythms of human existence that somehow keeps us connected amidst the increasing secularization of the holiday. He finishes with these words, “You go to war, or towards peace, with whatever Christmas you’ve got.” At first I thought Gopnik's summation was a bit lame, but I kept turning his words over in my mind. You and I probably want the Christ-event, the experience of Christmas to be more than it has been in the past. We find ourselves speculating, "wouldn't it be great if only ..." But the harsh reality is that we each move forward with whatever thread of the Christmas story that we can hold on to, because when everything is said and done, it is really all that we've got. The other day I went to visit one of our members who is recovering from surgery, but now is facing more problems seemingly unrelated to the surgery. She is alert and conversive, but she is scared. She told me of bible verses he had learned as a child, and she keeps reciting them over in her mind, sometimes not remembering the complete verses, but able to link them together into a mental meditation. She is not able to read in her current condition, but her mind is clear. When she told me about reciting these verses in her head, even when they were not complete, I responded to her, "...well, Janice, sometimes you just have to improvise." Her eyes lit up and she smiled, "That's it, pastor, and you know, that's okay - even that helps push the clouds of fear and uncertainty away." As any of us seek to make sense of the ills and the problems that beset us; sometimes the best we can do is improvise: we go into any situation that is before us with whatever we've got. But the glorious thing about this is the way it points us to a more excellent ministry than we might otherwise have provided to those to whom God sends us; sometimes, with what little we may have to work with, strange and wonderful events may be so transformational that they take our breath away. In December of 2008, up in Sutter County northeast of Sacramento, California, not too far from where we were living at the time, in a small community called Paradise, a family set out to cut their own Christmas tree. A snow storm blew in, and they became disoriented and lost in the storm. Other family members did not know exactly where they had traveled in search of that tree. Finally, after two days in the harsh elements of the high Sierras, and just before another storm was to hit, they were … saved. In their hunt for the perfect tree, they lost their way. In their hunt for lost souls, their rescuers found their way opening up to them; a way that led to salvation. In their search and rescue efforts, the people of Paradise, California never lost the thread of hope which was woven into each frustrating hour of their search. In a situation like this, when they are not exactly sure where their efforts would take them, they were able to keep the music of this rescue operation playing. Perhaps they did not recognize it at the time but each person on that snow covered mountain was improvising on the theme of hope, and they kept working that theme until- what they had before them turned into something so glorious that it took their breath away and people could not help but be awed in its presence - they who were lost are now found; they, whom others thought were dead, are now alive. Paul writes in Philippians: “… our citizenship is in heaven and it is from there that we are expecting a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. In this Christmas miracle in the high Sierras, I could not help but be struck by a bit of dramatic irony. When Paul writes “our citizenship is in heaven,” some translations would use another word for heaven: “paradise.” It is from there that we in the Christian faith are expecting a savior. And so it was for that family who was lost and so it was for their neighbors who set out to rescue them, all of whom called "Paradise" home. The central theme of this Advent/Christmas season is still salvation, whether or not we give much thought to it with all the distractions that surround us. But maybe this year amid the constant drone of secular Christmas music over the airwaves and in the malls and stores where you shop, you might just hear, or even better, experience an improvisation on that central theme of the Christmas story that will transform whatever Christmas you've currently "got," into something so glorious that it takes your breath away and you cannot help but be awed in its presence. Jerry

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