Love and renewed relationships: They came in person

Joseph, husband of Mary, is one candidate for the first person to start that Christmas tradition of traveling home for Christmas. Of course, there wasn't "Christmas" yet when Joseph went to his ancestral hometown of Bethlehem, and he wasn't there to get together with the cousins. We'll never know in this world if the innkeeper was a distant relative of theirs. We don't know if Joseph had kept in touch with any of his relatives from the region because nobody recorded Joseph's story in that much detail. We actually know more about Mary's relatives than Joseph's. I can imagine a scene something like a larger family reunion in Bethlehem for the census: maybe people figured out their connections -- they were a very genealogy-conscious culture -- or maybe Joseph was just focused on finding a safe place for Mary as she went into labor. If any relationships were renewed, it's because they came in person. 

We do that at holidays, too: a relationship is renewed when people come in person. There is excitement over who will be there, or disappointment over who couldn't make it this year. 

The angels renewed their presence when Christ was on the way. We hadn't seen them in scripture for centuries. Human thought of them may have faded off into legend or pious myth ... until the time was right. Then Zechariah saw Gabriel, honored among the angels as herald of the Messiah from the days of Daniel. Next, Gabriel visited Mary. By the end, shepherds had also seen angels, and even Joseph in a dream. 

And then God did that for us at Christmas. One of Jesus' most-beloved titles is "God with us" (Emmanuel) It is easy for God, like the angels, to fade from our consciousness. The cares of this world and the deceitfulness of wealth steal our focus. As Jesus came to us, our relationship with God is renewed. May I look forward to next time I see him. 

Christmas: After all the waiting, what changed?

In my local grocery store, the Christmas items were stocked and displayed from the day after Halloween. Now, the day after Christmas, they are gone without a trace. It was just merchandise to them. In my home, the Christmas decorations are still here; when their time is past there will still be signs of the one who was born. The celebration is of an event that matters. 

In worship this morning, the gospel reading focused on people who had waited a long time. Mary traded nine months of waiting for the reality of being a mother. At the Temple in Jerusalem, Simeon and Anna traded a lifetime of waiting for a chance to see Mary and Joseph present Jesus. But even for most people in Israel, it was another thirty years before they realized something important had happened. Simeon and Anna were paying closer attention to God's promises. They were watching, they were waiting, so they saw it sooner. Those who are paying attention to God's promises get "spoilers" about the future: that he has not left us, that he is with us, that he is acting for us even now. They enjoyed the hope and the celebration that others missed. The watching and waiting are not for God's benefit -- it is for ours. 

Christmas and the Light in the Darkness

The people who lived in darkness have seen a great light. (Isaiah 9:2, Matthew 4:6)

Sometimes we can't stop looking at the darkness. Sometimes it seems overwhelming. When we think about the direction of the world, it is easy to focus on the darkness, easy to lose hope.

But how many times have I been tempted to lose hope -- sometimes, have lost hope -- then later discovered that I was wrong? When I hear that "hope" is a virtue, in darker hours I mock that idea, thinking hope is baseless. And yet later events prove: really, it was the despair that was baseless. That has happened time and again over the years. If I have sometimes wrongly laughed off hope as baseless, when is the last time I laughed off despair as baseless?

Christmas -- Jesus' birth -- reaches a world where there is plenty of darkness. But there is also a lot of wallowing in darkness. "Hello, Darkness, my old friend" begins the haunting and resonating song -- we understand exactly what he means. We have lived there. There is a lot of seeing the world through dark glasses in order to be serious, and to be taken seriously. And there is a strange comfort in embracing the darkness.

The world loved darkness better. (John 3:19)

Today we light festive lights which cheer up the darkness. It's a visible reminder that the light is more lovely than the darkness. We remember that lights -- decorative lights on the tree or the home, candles, firesides -- are also our old friends. And in the light, we can remember what we did not see in the dark: that our old friends are also our old friends, that despair has often proved false. That there may be a lot of enmity towards that child in the manger -- and to the Holy Immortal that would light the world -- but there are many who hold his name dear, along with the hope he brings us.

Christmas: Holding an infant changes us

When was the last time you held an infant? Newborns bring out the best in many of us. There is such overwhelming tenderness and compassion. The connection has a heartbreaking intensity. It overwhelms our other thoughts and feelings. Each detail adds to our awe: the tiny fingers, the perfect miniature fingernails, the wobbly-uncertain movements of the new arms. People simply like to hold an infant. We can hold an infant for hours.

In this world, an infant is the closest we see to a pure heart: someone who has never been bitter, never schemed, never manipulated, never held a grudge, never laid a trap, never plotted payback. The innocence of childhood is something that we hope that each new child can maintain because that innocence has both beauty and power. In some measure we adore the innocence and the possibilities for good that come from it. We admire it because we desire it. Holding an infant re-awakens all that we hope for, all that we ever hoped for.

It re-awakens our knowledge of what God hopes for: Peace on earth, goodwill towards humanity. We hold onto a child because it re-awakens the best in us too.

It is easy to let the mockers win the day. We don't fully trust the good to last; since when did we have enough strength to withstand the mockers without becoming tarnished ourselves? But when we have a child in our arms, it is easier to say: I will enjoy this moment and its promise. And so God comes to us in a way that not only holds all the promise of what he can be, but renews the promise of what we can be.

"The weakness of God is stronger than man's strength."

Christmas: Actually, it's not all about Good Friday

Have you heard the line of thought that Christmas is really all about Good Friday? I've heard it the last few years -- and a few too many times. When we read of Jesus' birth, we hear about the innocent child, the hopeful mother, the message from heaven of peace and goodwill -- the "good tidings of great joy." The accounts of Jesus' birth show that his family had their hardships: traveling and delivering a child in a strange town, poverty, even a hostile government. But we are easily tempted to be cynical, hardened against the hope and innocence of new life -- even Jesus' life. In his birth, Jesus joins with us in the story of all humanity: after we are born, it is only a matter of time until we die. If there is good news in Jesus' birth, some people would say, it is specifically in the forgiveness that Jesus won for us at the cross. And so, the thought goes, the really important thing to remember at Christmas is that the child will grow up to die a horrific death and shed his blood for you and for me. And so the parallels are drawn between Christmas and Good Friday: the wood of the feeding trough is like the wood of the cross; he is wrapped in cloths in the cradle and again in the tomb; it is possible that both the cradle and the grave were in a cave. 

But the story of Jesus' birth is incomplete if we see only his grave. If we look ahead so many years from his birth to his death and burial, why stop there? We should look a short few days further to his resurrection. Here again we see the angels at the tomb at his resurrection, just as there were angels at his birth with good news. At Christmas Mary brought forth life by a miracle where life was not expected, so in Jesus' resurrection we see life where none was expected. And again, as in the birth, again in the resurrection, this life may have been brought forth in a cave. Jesus' resurrection reinforces the meaning of his birth: it is the beginning of a new creation, where death no longer destroys us, where God gives eternal life. The bittersweet part of every birth is that it is only a matter of time until we die. But Jesus' resurrection changes that, as death is no longer final. And so Jesus' birth changes the meaning of all of our births. We now live in a world in which God has raised the dead, never to die again. We live in a world where a new creation has started. We are told to have the same hope for ourselves and for our own children. This is good tidings of great joy.
Jesus' resurrection also gives us permission to look at the innocence that we are too cynical to permit ourselves to admire: the innocent child, the hopeful mother, the message from heaven of peace and goodwill. At Christmas, we are allowed to celebrate the "good tidings of great joy" as the triumph of life in the birth of this child.

Christmas

Today I will content myself with some thoughts from a far abler commenter on Scripture than I am:

Joseph was of the lineage of David and had to go to Bethlehem, the city of David. ... We can see how poor Joseph must have been that he could not afford to hire some old woman or neighbor to stay with Mary and look after her while he was gone. 

How unobtrusively and simply do those events take place on earth that are so heralded in heaven!

(From an advent or Christmas sermon by Martin Luther, in a book where it is not carefully sourced so I'm not sure exactly which sermon, or where to find it in his larger collected works.)

Merry and blessed Christmas to all.

Merry Christmas

Wishing you and yours a Merry Christmas. Jesus is the reason that Christian homes and Christian hearts are marked by faith, hope, and love. God is good.

The hope of the nations -- and of the Christians, and of the sinners

The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwell in the land of the shadow of death, on them the light has shined. ... For unto us a child is born. (Isaiah 9:2, 6)

So as I mentioned before, "business as usual" is living in darkness and the shadow of death. I've read lots of words today (Christmas; I'm scheduling this to post the next day). Some of the words have been encouraging, but some have been words in which people rehearse their hatred towards other people, or criticize others for celebrating Christmas in a way they don't approve (like with all the sparkly lights), or justify thoughts that they are, after all, more knowledgeable about Christianity than most others. Sometimes it gives the appearance that knowledge is used to put down others; if one person has more facts about the historical background of the day, then the brother or sister in Christ they're presuming to instruct had best stop talking back and admit the superiority of the other. Even if they're as right as they imagine about facts, who is exalted? Business as usual is walking in darkness for all of us. Sometimes the temptation is for us to think we're the light, the "star". We're not.

We're Christian writers, right? I expect we all would like to see these things we write as righteous acts, or at least as our best efforts at it. Which brings into focus something else Isaiah taught us: our righteous acts are filthy rags before God, and it rarely occurs to us that "Chief of sinners" applies to us and our righteous acts, especially in our religiosity, especially when we're most sure we're not the problem -- especially when we're sure we're the light, the star. That was what convinced Saul of Tarsus, after all, to go full steam ahead with his wickedness back in the day: it was precisely his religiosity -- his certainty that here, he was in the right and the others were wrong, so no holds barred in opposing them -- that led him to be chief of sinners, that led him to shed innocent blood, that led him to be arrogant and cruel and ruthless, to lose all sense of perspective. Perspective comes with humility. It is often when we're most convinced that we are the light (the enlightened ones, or the stars) that we are in the deepest darkness. It's not about us. It's really not.

For unto us a child is born. Unto us a son is given. And the government will be upon his shoulders. And his name shall be called: Wonderful, Counselor, Almighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and of peace there shall be no end. He will reign on David's throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that day forth and forevermore. The zeal of the LORD Almighty will accomplish this. (Isaiah 9:6-7)

Christmas, interrupting business as usual

The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwell in the land of the shadow of death, on them the light has shined. ... For unto us a child is born. (Isaiah 9:2, 6)

All year long, we go about business as usual -- and often, "business as usual" is living in darkness, and the shadow of death.

God interrupts business as usual. And God in his wisdom did not send mere words but a child, who in his wisdom did not come to condemn but to forgive. And there lies our hope.

Christmas: On taking human form

Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus:

Who, being in very nature God,
did not consider equality with God something to be grasped,
But emptied himself,
taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness,
And being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to death
even death on a cross
Therefore God exalted him to the highest place
and gave him the name that is above all names
That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow
in heaven and on earth and under the earth
And every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord
to the glory of God the Father.

---

God's opening salvo in our redemption was the biggest surprise of all: the Word of God, God's self-revelation, took human form.

I know the whole "Garden of Eden" thing is a source of argument among Christians, whether it should be understood as historically true or symbolically true. I hope you'll pardon me for not getting embroiled in that particular argument today, but just mentioning this: regardless of how you view the historical angle, there is still much common ground on the theological angle. What brought about the fall was grasping at equality with God. That was the core temptation in eating the forbidden fruit: not knowledge but status.

Paul's writing (some think he was quoting an early hymn) focuses exactly on this angle. We thought equality with God was something to be grasped even though we did not by nature have it; Christ by nature had it but did not claim it. We sought to exalt ourselves to gain our own status; Christ rejected his status in order to be with us. We let ourselves imagine that God exalted himself to keep himself above us. In our redemption, God showed us that the reality of the matter was the opposite: God humbled himself in order to reach us.

God is not too proud to be born into a poor family, not too proud to be put into a trough instead of a crib, not too proud to become human. Our original distrust of God is built on the fact that he is something we are not: that he is above us. The first action in redemption was to take away our cause for distrust: now God lays aside his glory and comes among us as one of us.

This turns our original temptation on its head. If we want to be like God, we reject status and exaltation; we choose humility and service. We accept being human. Christ, in taking our humanity upon himself, gave us back our own humanity as a gift.

Christmas Thank-You Notes

As you may have gathered from my entry in the Posada blog chain, this Christmas has been one where I struggle to find time, struggle to find room, struggle to get my heart and mind prepared, to make straight a path for the Lord. More on all that after the New Year. But for today I'd like to send out a few thank-you notes to people whose Christmas posts were a blessing to me.

• Happy Birthday, O 'Pale Galilean' at Ralph the Sacred River.
  
• Waiting for Godot on the Silentest Night of the Year at Metacrock's Blog.
• Isaac of Nineveh's Christmas Sermon at Dr. Platypus.

The First Christmas: Historical Background

Dr. Pursiful has been running a satisfyingly in-depth series on the historical background of Jesus' birth such as the censuses, star of Bethlehem, when Zechariah's rotation would have come up to serve in the Temple, and so forth. Stop by and give him a read. Well worth the time.