Merry Christmas

Just a note to thank everyone who followed the Advent Blog whether day by day or more whimsically. And a special thanks to all who fed back words of encouragement. It was quite a challenge to put out something every day and knowing someone out there was actually reading what I was writing was a big help.

I will take a bit of a break now, and plan to be back at it in the new year. See you then.

God bless you all
MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!

Jesus (from Joshua, Yahweh is salvation)

Twenty-Fifth Day of Advent

I hear James Taylor sing:

Who comes this night, this wintry night,
As to the lowly manger?
The Shepherd’s and the Kings did come
To welcome in the stranger. – lyric by Sally Stevens

But who is this stranger they come to welcome, and for whom we have been waiting through all these days of Advent? For some he is the King of kings, come to rule in the hearts of men and women everywhere, while for others he is a simple carpenter, overwhelmed by forces too powerful for him. To some he is a great teacher, even the greatest teacher who ever lived, while to others a misguided fool who imagines his martyr’s death will somehow bring the liberation of his people. There are even some scholars who claim to be his followers, and yet suggest he never actually lived at all. – I’m afraid that sort of thinking takes considerably more scholarship than I’ve been able to acquire. – But, one thing I think we can all agree on; he is one who, even after twenty centuries, still commands the interest of millions. I mean, how many people who died two thousand years ago can still make the cover of TIME and News Week twice a year?

But the question is as old as the Gospels, and every Advent brings it back again. Who is this baby born in Bethlehem over whom, after all this time, the world still makes such a fuss?

Well, John’s Gospel begins with as radical an answer as you could possibly imagine.

John 1:1-5 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning.

Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not understood it.

John begins by introducing us to one he calls “the Word”. In Genesis, chapter one, we are told that God created everything by speaking it into existence, and John says the same thing in a new way. It was “the Word” that went forth from God and created everything. And this “Word” is the source of life for everyone who is alive, and of enlightenment for everyone who is enlightened. John would never have doubted for a moment that Socrates, Lao Tzu, the Buddha or Confucius might have been truly enlightened, but he would insisted that such enlightenment has only one source, the Word that comes from God. Regardless how much death and darkness there is in the world, life and light just keep on coming. Not just to Christians and Jews, or even believers and good people; to everyone.

John 1:14 The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.

This is John’s answer to the question “Who is this baby born in Bethlehem?” The Word that created the universe, that gives life to everyone, and is the source of all learning, all true knowledge, all understanding, has become a human being. And that human being is Jesus. He is quite literally the incarnation of the God of everything and everyone.

And why did God do this astounding thing? Well, John answers that question in the famous passage, John 3:16. "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.

You see, this was something the Word was always doing from the beginning; coming into the world, giving life and light to all who would believe, that is, receive. The incarnation simply takes this coming to another level.

But wasn’t God angry with the world and threatening to come in judgment? Well, consider the very next verse, John 3:17, “For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.”

Of course God has always been grieved and angered, as any loving father would be, at those things that abuse and destroy his creation, and especially his little ones. But never, never with the world.

Jesus is the Word of God, who actually is God, reaching out in a new and more profound way, to his creation, his world, to you and me. His desire is the same as that of any loving father, to embrace and restore his children. It is the same as that of any good shepherd, to recover his lost sheep.

I suppose Charles Wesley said it as well as anyone ever has.

Hark the herald angels sing
"Glory to the newborn King!
Peace on earth and mercy mild
God and sinners reconciled"

Jesus is the reconciliation between God and humanity, the place where we and God come together. And, if I want to be close to God, Jesus is the best way I’ve ever found. Or, better put, he is the way that found me. He is the Word who seeks out everyone with the gifts of enlightenment and life.

Love (1 John 4:16)

Twenty- fourth Day of Advent

John tells us that God is love, so this meditation might just as well have come at the beginning of Advent, as at the end. Everything, especially Advent of course, begins with God, and so with love.

Who doesn’t love a little baby? Well, there was Herod of course, but he had serious trust issues. And no one moved over to make room in the inn, but they were visitors too, and a long way from home. And, anyway, they were there first. And then, I suppose, there must have been some back in Nazareth who were embarrassed that he was coming quite so soon. You really can’t go encouraging that sort of behaviour in young people.

Come to think of it, this love thing’s harder than it seems. But if, as John says, God is love, this Christmas thing, and Advent thing, and Easter thing, and everything is all about love. So I guess we really need to learn to love.

God is love.

Whoever lives in love lives in God,

and God in him.

1 John 4:16

Everything, even the universe itself, begins and ends with love.

The Christmas Tree

Twenty-Third Day of Advent

I have no idea where or when this whole thing started. In fact, I don’t think anyone really knows. But at some point in the distant past someone thought it would be cool to cut down a tree and bring it indoors and decorate it with all sorts of things. Some think it had something to do with offering gifts to the tree gods. Others say it was about encouraging the sun to return from the south. But, as I say, I don’t think anybody really knows. Just somebody’s idea of a good idea. Go figure.

My point is that it wasn’t my idea, or your idea, or as far as we know a Christian, Moslem, Hindu, Buddhist, Jewish, Atheist, Communist or Capitalist idea. There’s some evidence that it all started in Europe, but I doubt that we even know that for sure. The truth is good ideas circulate like cheap ballpoint pens. Who knows where the one they’re using came from, or where their last one went? The best ideas belong to everyone, and no one in particular.

So, if someone wants to take this thing and make it their own the way we did, and if they want to call it a Buddha Bush, a Hanukah Hedge, an Allah Arbour, a Festive Fir or just a generic Holiday Tree, it’s fine with me. And even if they forget where they got it, like we did, that’s fine too. Trees are no more exclusively Christmas things than candles and cakes are exclusively birthday things. With a little imagination they can be lots of things. But, all this being said, for me it is still a Christmas Tree.

Christmas Trees remind me of all the trees that are central to the great biblical epic from beginning to end. There is the Tree of Life, and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, found in the midst of the Garden of Eden. (Genesis 3) There is the family tree of Abraham, out of which we are told will spring the Root of Jesse who is Jesus, the Messiah. (Isaiah 11:10 and Romans 15:12) There is the Tree of the Cross, the central tree in the story as I know it. (Acts 5:30, 10:39; Galatians 3:13) And, finally, there is the Tree of Life, replanted in the New Jerusalem in the Book of Revelation. (Revelation 22).

But there’s another thing Christmas Trees remind me of, and this may be what I love about them most. They remind me that when Jesus was born in Bethlehem, my ancestors were nowhere to be found. They were not among the priests or prophets, or even the shepherds of Israel. They were off in Europe somewhere worshiping trees. I am a Johnny-come-lately to the feast, and I still can’t get over the fact that I’m here at all.

But, as Peter declared right at the beginning of the story of the church: “The promise is for you and your children and for all who are far off — for all whom the Lord our God will call." (Acts 2:39) What a God we worship! so loving, so generous, so gracious. He invites everyone to come to his great celebration and to bring some things with them that will remind them of where they came from. Some bring art, some music, some dances or theatre or stained glass. And he let us bring our trees.

Joy

Twenty-Second Day of Advent

Can you recall an occasion when you experienced great joy? Perhaps when you learned that a loved one was safe and going to be okay. Or when you found something precious you had lost, passed an exam, or won a prize. Something of great importance like a wedding or the birth of a child, or trivial like a game winning field goal or home run. But regardless what it was, you couldn’t contain your exuberance, and had to pour out your sense of well-being and/or relief for all to see.

The angels shouted for joy at the time of creation. (Job 38:7) They do it again at the repentance of sinners. (Luke 15:10) And it’s the obvious response to the news of the birth of a Saviour.

So, as we draw near to Christmas, and reflect upon the birth of Jesus, let’s not sit on our hands. Let’s pour out our joy for the whole world to see. All of the struggling, searching and striving; all of the bruises, and aching and longing; all of the hoping, believing and trusting; our eggs in one basket, our faith in one God, are fulfilled. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. Luke 2:11-12

The victory is ours.

I bring you good news of great joy

that will be for all the people…

Luke 2:10

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again:

Rejoice!

Philippians 4:4

Santa Claus

Twenty-First Day of Advent

Luke 18:16-17 "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it."

Some Christians resent all the hubbub of Christmas. For them, it seems, Jesus is fragile, a baby perhaps, so they fear he’ll be lost and neglected in all of the trappings, or stepped on in all the commotion. But, for me, he is Lord of the feast revolving around him. Lights, trees and gifts, carols and turkey, plum pudding, candy canes, eggnog and all of the rest are the planets and comets, asteroids and moons, orbiting Jesus, the sun. And in my Yuletidal system, Santa Claus is a Saturn or Jupiter; a veritable gas giant.

Of course, I have been duly warned that if you rearrange the letters of “Santa” you can make “Satan”, but I’ve always thought this was a better argument for going beyond spellcheck than for going against Santa Claus. And anyway, the word “Santa” simply means “saint”. How embarrassing.

As most of us know, Santa Claus derives from Saint Nicolas. He was an historical character of the early church, and so is one of the few truly Christian elements of the extra-biblical Christmas traditions. He was born in the third century in Turkey – Just a coincidence, I’m not making this up. – He was the son of wealthy, devoutly Christian parents, who died while he was a boy. He became the Bishop of Myra while still a young man and, in obedience to Christ’s command to “sell all you own and give the money to the poor”, he spent his life distributing his fortune to the needy. He suffered exile and imprisonment under the Roman Emperor, Diocletian, and, though he was not literally martyred, he became symbolic of those who pour out their lives completely for Christ. The white beard of Santa is drawn from icons depicting Saint Nicholas. His pointy hat, though flopped over now, evolved from his bishops miter, and red is the liturgical colour of the martyr. I don’t know where the reindeer came from.

Some feel the Santa tradition’s a lie and, if truth were just another word for fact, it would be hard to argue very convincingly against them. Even I must admit that the red-suited man who descends chimney flues every year is not factual. But I think truth is much more than fact. And I think there’s far more going on in the universe than biology, chemistry, physics; far more than facts. Santa is poetry, and poetry is how we strain after truths, and teach our children to strain after truths, that are deeper than facts.

We do not live by bread alone. And no one can speak a great truth, let alone live a great life, if confined to mere facts. The psalmist declares, “The rivers clap their hands, and the mountains sing together for joy”; (Psalms 98:8). A mother claims that she loves her children “with all her heart”. A singer sings for lovers everywhere, “You are the sunshine of my life”. We know, of course, that these statements are un-factual, but heaven help us all if, for that reason, they are untrue.

Facts are important of course. Bridges and airplanes stay up,

and fall down, based upon facts. Profits and losses, eclipses and comets, snowstorms and hurricanes, can be understood, and even predicted, simply by knowing the facts. But meaningful human life is much more than this. People pour out their lives, give away fortunes, risk being bishops and prisoners, exiles and martyrs, heroes and saints, for truths that are deeper than facts.

And that is what Santa Claus, i.e., the Spirit of Christmas, is really about.

Hope

Twentieth Day of Advent

Psalms 25:4-5

Show me your ways, O LORD,

teach me your paths;

guide me in your truth and teach me,

for you are God my Savior,

and my hope is in you all day long.

I once heard about a little boy who defined the word “faith” as “believing that something is true even though you know perfectly well it isn’t”. And I suppose he could have defined “hope” in a similar way, as “believing something will happen even though you know perfectly well it won’t”. But, just as this is not really the best definition of “faith”, it’s not really the best definition of “hope”.

Hope is an attitude of heart that produces a certain life orientation. To live in hope is to live leaning into, rather than away from, the future. It is to live our lives in the expectation that God is going to do something good. It’s a deeper, and much better thing than “optimism”, which is merely confidence that everything will turn out fine in the end. Hope is the conviction that, regardless how things turn out, God will have his way in the end, and that’s what really matters.

For almost five-hundred years there had been no word from the Lord. The nation was in ruins, and invaders were in charge. False prophets had begun to speak their own words. Many leaders had joined with the invaders. Some people had grown impatient and taken up arms, and some had grown discouraged and given up caring. But some, like Mary and her husband Joseph, and Mary’s cousin Elizabeth and her husband Zachariah, were watching for the Lord to come, and waiting for the Lord to act, and leaning forward to listen.

That’s hope.

The Slaughter of the Innocents

Nineteenth Day of Advent

Matthew 2:16-18 When Herod realized that he had been outwitted by the Magi, he was furious, and he gave orders to kill all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity who were two years old and under, in accordance with the time he had learned from the Magi. Then what was said through the prophet Jeremiah was fulfilled:

"A voice is heard in Ramah ,
weeping and great mourning,
Rachel weeping for her children
and refusing to be comforted,
because they are no more."

We Jews steer clear of magi and whatever they can know from staring at a palm or the innards of a dog. And we do not read the stars; it is forbidden. But we remember when these magi came. Common spell and potion peddlers from the East, but with a difference. They were looking for a king. They claimed they’d seen his natal star, and were no more discreet than if they had been looking for a blacksmith or a bakery. What were they thinking? We told them about the baby who’d created such a stir at census time, and sent them off to see him at the edge of town. We were afraid. No king wants a rival, and Herod was worse than most. They left as quickly as they’d come, without their customary nonsense, pestering and show. And then the nice young couple with their little “king” also disappeared. At first we were relieved they got away, but later not so much.

Soon others came asking about the magi and the king. We told them what had happened but they were not satisfied until they’d questioned every family and entered every home. We asked each other, “Why so thorough?”, and “What are they really looking for?” And all too soon we knew.

It happened in an instant, in the dark of night. We heard them in the street and my husband went to see. But suddenly men crashed through the door, men we didn’t know and wouldn’t recognize today. They beat him, broke his arm, ransacked our home and fled into the night. I rushed to my husband, and we began to gather up the children… all but one. My little Moysha they had killed. And then, above our cries we heard our neighbours cries. Fifteen families, wailing like the families of Egypt, but my Moysha had no basket, no Nile, no Pharaoh’s daughter to rescue him. Just a little grave with fourteen other little graves.

At first we thought that these were bandits, come to rob us, but there were no demands for money and almost nothing taken. And then we thought it must be faction fighting and retaliation, but we were not political. And when there is retaliation it’s the men who die, and they make sure you know who did this thing and why. And slowly every family came to understand.

We didn’t talk about it, but we knew what we all knew. All the baby boys in Bethlehem, so soon after they’d inquired at every house; entered every home, pretending to be looking for the magi and the baby king. – I should mention that there was a little girl who also died, mistaken for her brother, we supposed. Her brother is alive today; a Zealot.

I’m an old woman now, and I say that it was Herod, right out loud. He’s lying in his jeweled sarcophagus at Herodium like the Pagan-Roman-Greek he was, and I am almost gone. My children are all grown now, and I have little left to fear. Time has eased my sorrows. I cannot have my baby back, and Herod is beyond my reach.

Kings do not confess their crimes, and most of them go unrecorded. Who remembers a few babies in a little town like Bethlehem? And, this is the only sorrow that remains. How I wish that this might be remembered. O, that God would write it down somehow, somewhere, and bring it out and show the generations yet to come what Herod did to us, and all the Herods like him do to all the little ones like us, in every age, in all the earth. He has his monuments; we have no evidence at all. But, if just one could tell the future what he did, the future would be wiser about kings and everyone who bears the title “Great”. There is no one “Great” but God. All others are impostors. And the illusion is maintained at such a cost.

Herod the Great (grand, impressive, not necessarily good)

Eighteenth Day of Advent

Matthew 2:3-4 When King Herod heard this he was disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him.

Amazing! An opportunity to speak for myself. But considering the things that have been said about me in the course of 2000 years, it’s hardly a magnanimous gesture; simple justice, and infinitely less than I deserve. But it’ll be nice to get a few things off my chest, tell you some things you probably don’t know, and point out a thing or two you should have figured out by now.

First off, you’re wondering if I’m going to confess to “murdering” all those babies. Get over it. Kings don’t confess. And suppose I denied it, would you believe me? Be serious now. You need an arch villain for that silly story you love to tell your children. And if I “confessed”, would you understand? How do you guard your kingdom from maniacs and their moron followers? How do you anticipate the arbitrary and preposterous rallying points and nip them in the bud? Have you held a throne for 39 years in an impossibly precarious situation? Do you have the focus and resolve to do whatever must be done?

And what do you know about me anyway? Do you realize that, in all the Roman Empire, I was the greatest builder of my day? Have you heard that architects, engineers, city planners and rulers came from everywhere on earth to see my palace at Herodium, my fortress at Masada, and my port city of Caesarea with its man-made, or should I say me-made deep-water harbour? And the Jews, who couldn’t hide their contempt for me, who called me a half-Jew and a traitor behind my back, also couldn’t hide their awe and admiration when they gazed upon the Temple I built for them in Jerusalem. Their Wailing Wall is the West Wall of my Temple. It still stands, and they come to weep at it everyday and remember the glory I gave them. They’ve discovered it’s not the sort of thing you rebuild in three days. – Morons and maniacs… What more can I say? – I negotiated a kingdom as large as David made by war, and I built monuments and temples to rival Solomon. And all you know of me is this idle slander of a few babies killed in Bethlehem.

Of course I did some things no one feels good about. I eliminated rivals; courtiers and powerful citizens mostly, but some family members too. I had to execute my favourite wife, Mariamne, and grieved her bitterly for many years. I had already been forced to drown her brother, and subsequently had to terminate three sons. Do you imagine this was easy? Augustus joked, “It would be better to be Herod’s hog than his son”, but, knowing him, I think there was more admiration than insult in that remark. We do what we must do.

I do remember magi coming to Jerusalem, telling everyone that a new king had been born in Israel. What were they thinking? I gave them a private audience, and even helped them get their bearings. I sent them off to Bethlehem and, in return, they promised to let me know where I could find the child. I meant no harm, of course, just thought he’d be connected to a rival faction. Hoped we could negotiate, work something out. But everyone’s so suspicious. They somehow got it in their heads that I was out to hurt the boy. They broke their promise and fled. And his family, or clan, or whatever they were, went into hiding too. Treachery and betrayal! What can a ruler do? I’m not saying I did anything, mind you, or that I harmed anyone. But, if I had, who could really blame me? People, by their cowardice, suspicion and disloyalty, bring these things upon themselves and others.

And don’t insult us both with that silly, vacuous expression, as though you’ve never heard anything so shocking or so cruel. Do you not watch the evening news? Do you not read the paper, or People Magazine? We Herods haven’t gone anywhere. We’re still here in your parliaments and city councils; in your board rooms, banks and brothels. We’re winning all the games, gathering up the marbles, building our villas and fortresses at your expense. We are generous to you with your own money, and entertain you with our lifestyles; the houses, clothes and cars, and all the things you buy for us. We are in charge, and stay in charge, because we negotiate continually, and have the focus and resolve to do what must be done.

And, by the way, I’d still like to meet this Jesus of yours if you can tell me where to find him; all us Herods would. We like to know our rivals, and we’re always happy to negotiate. Of course we’ve heard that negotiation isn’t really his strong suit, but we’ll be more than willing to do whatever must be done.

Come on back and see me anytime, but bring some information when you come. It’s only fair and infinitely less than I deserve.

Christmas Candles ("I am the light of the world…”)

Seventeenth Day of Advent

John 1:1-5 In the beginning the Word already existed. He was with God, and he was God. He was in the beginning with God. He created everything there is. Nothing exists that he didn't make. Life itself was in him, and this life gives light to everyone. The light shines through the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it. (New Living Translation)

Many years ago I visited a coal mine with a group of junior high school students and part of the experience was approximately one minute of utter darkness. As the lights went out I was amazed at how stunning total darkness is. Moving more than a few steps was precarious, not just because I thought I might trip or bump into something, but keeping my balance was difficult. Sounds were confusing and, though I was with people I knew, I felt very vulnerable. When the lights came on I was amazed at how turned around I’d become in just a few steps. And those who had not moved at all discovered they were looking up or down, or to the left or right of where they’d expected to be looking. Darkness, is disorienting, disconcerting and debilitating.

And so, since we can now produce light cheaply, abundantly and virtually anywhere, we live in a world awash in light. Every room, hallway and stairwell, is illuminated. Refrigerators and ovens light up when we open the door, and floodlights and spotlights flash on when something moves in the yard. Streetlights, traffic lights, neon signs, security lights, headlights, signal lights, strobe lights, flashlights, and emergency vehicle lights, have all but abolished night in our cities. We have lost the everyday experience of darkness, and with it I expect, some of our appreciation of light.

And so Christmas candles, that for our ancestors shone with a mysterious and comforting glow, casting halos of reassurance in the vast, nocturnal sea of darkness, can become for us, just a few more lights among millions of lights.

And yet, with just a little imagination even we can recover a sense of the wonder of light. Just think of that world of not so long ago where darkness shaped daily life. In that world everyone was half blind half the time. Little work could be done after sunset, and travelling at night was difficult and dangerous. Lighting up a whole room, let alone a whole house, was too expensive and difficult for most people, and a candle or small lamp was very special. It’s in this context that John writes of the “light [that] shines through the darkness, [that] the darkness can never extinguish...”.

At this, the darkest season of the year, our pagan forefathers lit bonfires, torches, lamps, and flames of all sorts in anticipation and celebration of the return of the sun, that great light that makes life livable, and even possible. Even Jesus celebrated the Feast of Dedication (Hanukah) which is a winter feast of light. (John 10:22) And we light candles, and pass light and carry light in anticipation and celebration of the light of Christ that makes life in the darkness possible.

Light is mysterious and amazing, even if we have it in abundance. And the Christmas candles remind us that, in the deep, disorienting, disconcerting and debilitating darkness of our bright world, there shines a light that even that darkness can never extinguish.

The Magi (Matthew 2:1-12)

Sixteenth Day of Advent

Matthew 2:1-12 After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi from the east came to Jerusalem and asked, "Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star in the east and have come to worship him."

When King Herod heard this he was disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him. When he had called together all the people's chief priests and teachers of the law, he asked them where the Christ was to be born. "In Bethlehem in Judea," they replied, "for this is what the prophet has written:

"'But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,

are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;

for out of you will come a ruler

who will be the shepherd of my people Israel.'"

Then Herod called the Magi secretly and found out from them the exact time the star had appeared. He sent them to Bethlehem and said, "Go and make a careful search for the child. As soon as you find him, report to me, so that I too may go and worship him."

After they had heard the king, they went on their way, and the star they had seen in the east went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they were overjoyed. On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold and of incense and of myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, they returned to their country by another route.

There is probably no element of the birth story of Jesus that’s been more embellished by tradition than that of the Magi. In recent years, however, these embellishments have become a stumbling block to faith. That they were kings with the names Gaspar, Melchior and Balthasar, and that they traveled hundreds of miles through the desert, on camels, with servants, in a great entourage, following a star so bright that you could see it in the daytime but which somehow didn’t get recorded by anyone but Matthew, seems absurd to many. Add to this the notion that these “kings” arrived in a little town like Bethlehem, and hung out in a stable with shepherds to see a baby in a manger, and modern credulity is strained beyond the breaking point.

But Matthew’s story – the magi appear exclusively in the Gospel of Matthew – is actually very simple, much more like Luke’s humble account of the shepherds. And everything we know of them is related in the 12 verses above.

1. They are magi. – This is a word used to refer to a cast of Persian priests. They were not uncommon in Jesus’ day, and were rather like wandering Gypsies who traveled about telling fortunes and such. We find two similar characters in the Book of Acts; Simon (8:9-24) and Elymas (13:6-12).
2. There was more than one. – The word Magi is plural, but there is no indication that there were three.
3. They are from the east. – Magi were generally from Persia but Matthew does not actually say that they had come specifically in search of the new king. Magi from the East were a common feature of Palestinian life.
4. They had seen a star indicating a new king had been born in Israel. – The phrase “star in the east” might be translated “star at it’s rising”. Jews had nothing to do with astrology, so it’s hardly surprising that Matthew gives less detail than is needed to say precisely what the star was.
5. They first went to Jerusalem. – We are not told that the star led them to Jerusalem. Apparently, having seen the star, they simply went to where you would expect a new king of Israel to be born.
6. They were directed to Bethlehem by those who knew the Old Testament prophesies.
7. They found Jesus in a house. – The magi did not got to the stable, but appear to have arrived some time after Jesus’ birth when the family was in a house. The word “child” used of Jesus, rather than “infant” as in Luke’s Gospel, also indicates an older Jesus.
8. They presented gifts of gold, incense and myrrh. – These gifts were probably tokens rather than costly treasures. This is the sort of thing a traveling troupe of fortunetellers might do to stir up interest in a town.
9. Because they’d been warned in a dream to avoid Herod, they left the country without returning to Jerusalem. – If what we know of the historical Herod is accurate, the dream probably confirmed what they already suspected; they had made a terrible mistake in spilling the beans in Jerusalem about the birth of a rival king.

The coming of the magi is a simple story, really just an incident, that illustrates the impact of the coming of the Prince of Peace. Even magi, who are immersed in practices that are abhorrent to God’s people, are drawn to Messiah, while the king in Jerusalem, who should have been among the first to recognize Messiah, aligns himself against him.

Who could ever have imagined that the coming of the Prince of Peace could bring about such a radical reversal of the spiritual order? Well, Mary did. In fact, she pointed it out just yesterday.

Luke 1:52 He has brought down rulers from their thrones

but has lifted up the humble.

Peace (Shalom) Luke 1:46-55

Fifteenth Day of Advent

The Hebrew word “shalom” is usually translated “peace”, but this does not do justice to the word. Shalom is not just tranquility or lack of conflict as the English word suggests, it’s the health and wholeness that flows through a life or community when things are working together as God intends them to work.

This kind of peace starts with a serious reordering of our disordered world. And so, when Mary speaks of the coming of the Prince of Peace, she declares:

He has performed mighty deeds with his arm;

he has scattered those who are proud

in their inmost thoughts.

He has brought down rulers from their thrones

but has lifted up the humble.

He has filled the hungry with good things

but has sent the rich away empty. Luke 1:51-55

When this peace arrives:

- The proud oppressors are scattered,

- the arrogant rulers are fired

- and humble servants are lifted up and put in authority.

- the hungry are fed

- and the rich have to go without for a change.

But we who are proud, arrogant, rich and in charge, don’t want to hear about this kind of peace. We benefit from the disorder of the world. We want the peace that brings tranquility, protects us from conflict, and maintains the disorder we love.

And That’s where All the trouble starts.

Gifts

Fourteenth Day of Advent

Luke 2:7 She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger,…

I’m one of those odd people you run into from time to time who doesn’t like stuff. It’s not an ascetic accomplishment or a moral achievement. It isn’t a virtue. It’s simply the way I came. And it isn’t quite total. I really like books for example, and I do have a pocket-watch that’s special to me. But that’s about it. Some people assume it’s a good thing, but I’m not so sure. If I lived alone I might choose to live more like a hermit than would actually be good for me. And I fear that those who live with me live more like hermits than they might choose, and quite possibly than is actually good for them. It’s just a condition. I can’t help it. We all have flaws.

But, in spite of all this, or maybe because of it, there is something I love about gifts. It isn’t the stuff, but the gift.

1. Gifts are surprises. Sometimes, in a life that is full of surprises, we need to be reminded that not all surprises are bad. In fact life itself, which is the biggest gift any of us have received, is also, undoubtedly, our biggest surprise.

2. Gifts are grace. They are not compensation for something we’ve done. They’re not something we’ve earned or deserved. And, as children soon discover, they come whether or not we have been good. They are simply reminders that love comes before everything, and grace is the firstborn child of love.

3. Gifts are the essence of community; communion. Through gifts we establish our relationships with one another. And though we generally think colourful packages, far more often our gifts are attention, or time, or affection, or care, encouragement, sympathy, counsel, assistance. And each of these things are bits of ourselves.

And so, here we have it, the very first Christmas gift. The number one gift ever given, all wrapped up and lying in a manger. Hidden in a place accessible to everyone, where anyone can come and receive. And so, in memory of that prototypical gift, we give gifts to others at Christmas. We wrap them all up and put them in the oddest places, in a stocking or under a tree.

And, like Mary and Joseph, somehow we know that these gifts are not really from us. We may be the instruments, but not really the source. Father Christmas we say, which is to say Christmas itself is the giver, or Santa (the Saint), or Kris Kringle (the Christ Child). And all of these forms are just our way of saying that, somehow, this gift is from Life, or from Love, or from God.

Simeon and Anna (Luke 2:25-36)

Thirteenth Day of Advent

Luke 2:34-35 Then Simeon blessed them and said to Mary, his mother: "This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul too."

As Jesus is taken up to the temple in Jerusalem, to be dedicated to God, we meet Simeon and Anna. Simeon has been waiting for the consolation of Israel and, of late, has been praying simply that God will let him live long enough to see the Messiah. This would imply that he is very old. And Anna’s old too, at least 84. And these two old people just hang out at the temple most of the time, apparently unwilling to spend their declining years merely declining.

Now, Anna is a prophetess, which means she’s given to speaking a word of Godly wisdom from time to time. She spends her days fasting and praying and, upon seeing Jesus, just overflows with good and Godly things for anyone who’ll listen, especially those who, like Simeon, are looking for God to do something new and great. And Simeon has a blessing for this new little family, and a particular word for Jesus’ mother, Mary.

Today I celebrate my 60^th birthday, and I believe Simeon and Anna have a word of Godly wisdom for me and others like me. I’m approaching old age; not there yet, mind you, but I can certainly see it from here. And, should the Lord bless me with a few decades more, I need to know what kind of old man I’m preparing to be.

Waiting

When I am old I’ll hang out in the temple,

Or anywhere God’s hanging out,

Hoping he’ll do something… anything,

Talking the ears off the people I meet about what I have seen.

I’ll watch, mostly, for new things that no one expects,

Hoping for things that can’t happen,

Believing and longing for things that can’t be,

And telling the children not to be practical,… safe,

And not to believe that God’s done with his world.

I’ll tell them of how I’ve been waiting since I was a child.

Waiting for God, and waiting for them.

And, like Simeon, I will give each one a blessing.

I will not pretend, or deflect, or conceal.

I will help them to see what is coming of sorrow and pain,

And to trust in the God who will meet them in darkness, and met them in me.

I will teach them to rest in the tempest,

And pray in the garden, and wait at the tomb.

And perhaps they will, someday, though fainting or falling,

Find strength in the memory of one who had waited since childhood,

Watching and hoping, believing and longing

To bless them, and tell them of how he’d been waiting

For God and for them.

Artwork - Presentation in the Temple - Rembrandt 1627

It’s a Wonderful Life

Twelfth Day of Advent

When I was a child, about 10 years old, I saw a great movie on TV. This would have been about 1958, and I never saw it again for many years. But I loved it, and from time to time I’d mention it to someone. I remembered that it was a Christmas thing with James Stewart and Donna Reed, and that this guy got to see what life would be like if he’d never been born. I found some people who’d seen it, and a few who could tell me things about it that I hadn’t remembered. But in the Googleless society, it was hard to chase down that sort of information. Pretty much everyone who knew the movie love it, but there were so many who had never seen it.

Then, one Christmas in the mid ‘80s, I noticed that they were showing a free Christmas movie at the Public Library; Frank Capra’s “It’s a Wonderful Life” with James Stewart, Donna Reed, Lionel Barrymore, Thomas Mitchell, Beullah Bondi, and half a dozen other actors who might be familiar to the sorts of people who go to movies at the library. And I immediately realized three things: first, this was the movie I’d been looking for; second, what I had learned about this movie by making random inquiries over the course of twenty years, I could probably have discovered in an hour of thoughtful research at the Public Library; – The library was Google in those days. – and, third, my two boys, about 12 and 10, were going to a movie with me on Friday night. We went and, of course, we loved it.

It’s hard to imaging that there was ever a time when this Christmas classic was not an essential part of the holiday scene, but it’s true. In it’s initial release, in 1946, it was a box office flop. The war had just ended and a Christmas movie with a main character who was contemplating suicide, and a villain like Potter, who would steal $8,000.00 to destroy a competitor, was too dark and menacing for the public mood. People were looking for feel-good Christmas movies like Miracle on 34^th Street (1947) and White Christmas (1954).

For about 30 years this movie languished in relative obscurity. Then, in the mid ‘70s, due to a simple clerical error, it’s copyright lapsed. TV stations could now air it for free and it soon became the Christmas hit it is today.

As much as I love “It’s a Wonderful Life”, there’s actually a Christmas classic I love immeasurably more. But it’s much darker than Frank Capra’s movie and so, of course, too dark for many tastes. With subtle overtones of poverty and rejection, and a not so subtle king who murders little babies and drives the infant hero and his family into hiding, it’s hardly a “feel-good” story. But everywhere this story’s widely shared it is an instant hit. And that’s all I’m gonna tell you. But ask around and you’ll find that just about everyone who knows the story loves it. Or, if you’re smarter than I was, you could inquire at the Public Library with just the information I’ve given you. In fact nowadays you can Google it. Want a clue? A common little word like “manger”, or an everyday name like “Mary”, will be enough to get you going.

The Angel of the Lord and the Heavenly Host

Eleventh Day of Advent

Luke 2:13-14 Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests."

American astronomer, Carl Sagan, perhaps best known for his TV series Cosmos and his novel Contact, was extremely successful as a popularizer of astronomy. But, as fascinating as this subject surely is, the driving force behind his popularity was not the subject in itself. It was his deep belief in extraterrestrial life,… intelligent life. This is intriguing since there’s no real “scientific” evidence of any life beyond this tiny cosmic speck we call Earth, and certainly of any “intelligent” life. But the Universe is big, to say the least, and so the possibility is there. And human curiosity is such that that’s enough. It seems we simply must keep looking.

And there is, perhaps, nonscientific evidence; these stories among all people’s everywhere, of visitors from other worlds: fairies, leprechauns, jinns, gods, spacemen, UFOs. And angels, what of angels? Do they not fit the profile? Beings from another world; created beings like ourselves, but very different. Not physical in quite the way we are, but real. Intelligent? Who knows? It seems they can communicate ideas, but so can a DVD. And what does the word “intelligence” really mean, even when applied to creatures much more like ourselves, to hummingbirds or bumble bees for instance, let alone to angels. It seems that they have wills, and that their wills can be corrupted, much as ours can be. But then again, what does “will” exactly mean when speaking of an angel?

If you search the scriptures on the topic, avoiding speculation and traditional embellishments, and carefully sticking to what is clearly and precisely said, I think you’ll be amazed at just how little we are told. And this puts those of us who believe in angels in a delightfully humble situation. We are thoroughly convinced of what we simply do not know.

And this is what I love about them most.

- They force us to acknowledge that there is far more happening, even in our own tiny world, than we can comprehend.

- They cause us to suspect, if not to know for sure, that we are not the only beings who serve and worship God, or perhaps refuse to worship and to serve.

- They put us in our place, reminding us that, though it’s wonderful to be human beings, there are also limitations.

- And they tell us things we cannot not know.

Isaac Asimov is another science writer I enjoy, especially his humble spirit. He points out that it’s not when the scientists examine the results of their experiments and shout “Eureka! I have found it!”, that they are on the threshold of discovery. It’s when, upon examining the evidence, they scratch their heads and say, “Hmmm, that’s funny.”

That night something unexpected happened, and when it was all over those poor shepherds were convinced of more than they could know, and far more than they would ever understand, “Today in the town of David a Saviour has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.” And they paused and scratched their heads and said to one another, “Hmmm, that’s funny. Let’s go see.”

And so do we.

Artwork - Conflagration – Carolyne Kardia 2007