Christmas Eve 2016

Luke 2:1-20

In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. All went to their own town to be registered. Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn. In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid for see -I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” And suddenly there was  with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!” When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.” So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.

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In those days a decree went out to count all the people, to take a census, to make sure taxes were being properly collected, to keep track of who lived where, how concentrated was the Jewish population in which places, how many soldiers might be needed to keep the peace if the oppressed got it into their heads to protest how Rome was mistreating them. I know it's the way our Christmas story begins every year, but consider how often this year already we have heard history repeating itself, how many reminders of days some people still alive can remember: other times Jews were gathered together to be counted, even tattooed with numbers to keep track of them, or when Japanese Americans were taken from their homes to be collected all in one place so the rest of us could keep an eye on them, or the talk these days of creating a Muslim registry. Now the administration wants also to know who worked with Hilary Clinton on gender equality initiatives, and which scientists have studied and reported on climate change. Everybody gets counted, categorized, put into smaller and smaller boxes to be set against each other and controlled, so those in power can keep their power while the rest of us go hungry and blame each other. 

And yes, it's political. We’re starting a story about Christmas with a story about taxes and government control. This, my friends, is the world into which Jesus was born. And this isn't a conspiracy theory, it’s how power corrupts and fights to hold onto privilege. The people aren’t the problem, the inequality, the fear, the anxiety, the constant fight for worthiness, that’s the problem. Our story of creation begins with God saying that we are very good, and the rest of the downhill fall is that we don’t believe it. God tells us again and again that we are good enough, that we belong, that we are connected and seen and remembered and heard, and on the large and small scale we continue to discount that word, to disregard that promise of faithfulness, to expect the worst of ourselves and each other, until we come to utterly despair of humanity’s goodness. Even if it’s not we ourselves who we can’t imagine being good enough, we do it to one another every time we let insults fly and injuries go untended. It’s like we’ve gotten it into our heads that there isn’t enough love to go around and so we have to fight one another and prove ourselves better in order to get a corner on the acceptance market.

What complete and utter cow crap that is! And it’s precisely literal cow crap that Jesus was born surrounded by when Mary gave birth in that stable. Whether it was a barn or a cave doesn’t really matter for the point that Jesus wasn’t born someplace high and lofty and comfortable, but right in the middle of the census, when his people were being closely watched for conspiracy and threats of terrorism. Jesus was an undocumented migrant, living in a place that was overcrowded and unwelcoming. Today he would probably be deported, harassed, his mother targeted for sexual harassment and his father shamed as an aging contract worker. This is the world we have made.

But, this is also the world he chose freely to enter and to live in. For ever time we decide this world isn’t good enough, God chooses to live in it. For every time we decide that somebody else, for reason of color, nationality, language, gender, religion, class, or whatever, isn’t good enough, God chooses freely to be made manifest in those very people we have put on the margins. For every time we look in the mirror or look back on our lives and decide that, for whatever reason, we ourselves are not good enough, God comes to us in the flesh to say that, yes, being human is in fact good enough. Not only good enough, but that first word about us at creation was that we are very good.

So this Christmas, we may have any number of emotions around the holiday itself, around the current political climate, around our own so-called successes and failures, but the point of this Christmas is God showing us in the very flesh and blood, sweat and tears, of Jesus, that being human is in fact just as good as being God. God put down all divine power to be human, after all, and that is what we celebrate today. We are good enough. God said so at the beginning, and still continues to say so today, and if we can’t take God’s word for it, God will come to earth in our own very flesh, and live and die just like the rest of us, to prove to us that, yes, indeed, being human is holy, being human is a miracle, being human is immeasurably enough.

Which is hard enough to hear for ourselves, let alone to remember when strangers and neighbors and family members are complete jerks to us, or when people we have been taught to hate and fear turn out to bleed just like we do - because God’s Word came to be flesh in the most human and vulnerable way possible, in the skin of someone who has been ridiculed and hunted from day one. Shepherds knew what that was like, so shepherds were among the first to recognize him. Will we recognize God in our own flesh? In that of our Muslim neighbors? Our black neighbors? Our female neighbors? What will that do to the world when we can recognize divinity in the very dirt from which we were made and to which we will return? When our eyes are opened to the holiness all around us and within us?

Come and worship the One who has chosen to live in and among you. He is coming, always coming, and he is already here.

Sing!

Isaiah 35:1-10

The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad, the desert shall rejoice and blossom; like the crocus it shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice with joy and singing. The glory of Lebanon shall be given to it, the majesty of Carmel and Sharon. They shall see the glory of the LORD, the majesty of our God. Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees. Say to those who are of a fearful heart, “Be strong, do not fear! Here is your God. He will come with vengeance, with terrible recompense. He will come and save you.” Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then the lame shall leap like a deer, and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy. For waters shall break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert; the burning sand shall become a pool, and the thirsty ground springs of water; the haunt of jackals shall become a swamp, the grass shall become reeds and rushes. A highway shall be there, and it shall be called the Holy Way; the unclean shall not travel on it, but it shall be for God’s people; no traveler, not even fools, shall go astray. No lion shall be there, nor shall any ravenous beast come upon it; they shall not be found there, but the redeemed shall walk there. And the ransomed of the LORD shall return, and come to Zion with singing; everlasting joy shall be upon their heads; they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.

Magnificat, sung to the setting called "Canticle of the Turning," you can find it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F9QeTmRCpW4

James 5:7-10

Be patient, therefore, beloved, until the coming of the Lord. The farmer waits for the precious crop from the earth, being patient with it until it receives the early and the late rains. You also must be patient. Strengthen your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is near. Beloved, do not grumble against one another so that you may not be judged. See, the Judge is standing at the doors! As an example of suffering and patience, beloved, take the prophets who spoke in the name of the Lord.

Matthew 11:2-11

When John heard in prison what the Messiah was doing, he sent word by his disciples and said to him, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” Jesus answered them, “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.” As they went away, Jesus began to speak to the crowds about John: “What did you go out into the wilderness to look at? A reed shaken by the wind? What then did you go out to see? Someone dressed in soft robes? Look, those who wear soft robes are in royal palaces. What then did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. This is the one about whom it is written, ‘See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way before you.’ Truly I tell you, among those born of women no one has arisen greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.”

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Last week we heard John preaching fire. This week John has been arrested for that sermon and sits in prison, wondering if his work has been worthwhile. Everything he has spent his life preparing for is apparently unseen, uncertain, perhaps even a little unreal. Rome is still in control, pushing his people around, desecrating holy time and space with their military and cultural colonization. Religious leaders and institutions are still as corrupt as ever. And John has no idea if his work has made any difference at all, other than to make the people in power angry.

Seems a bit of an odd spot to be in this third Sunday of Advent. We light the pink candle and sing Mary’s Magnificat every year on this Sunday to mark it as a Sunday of joy, yet we have a story of John the Baptist sitting in prison, wondering if he had done the right thing by pointing to Jesus, or if he should have directed his life’s work toward another Messiah. Doesn’t sound very joyful to me. Sounds rather despairing, actually.

Which is why we connect this Gospel reading with the text from Isaiah. It’s why we spend Advent with this prophet in particular, whose story is told in three big parts across the history of God’s people being threatened with exile, living in exile, and returning from exile. Here in the 35th chapter of Isaiah, the prophet speaks to the experience of those who have been taken from their homes and forcibly moved to foreign lands. Their lives are dried up and sorrowful, feeling barren and under oppression. They are waiting for hope to appear, for a return to their homeland, for comfort and safety.

It’s a recurrent theme throughout scripture, of people under oppression waiting for salvation, hoping for peace, looking to be rescued by a savior sent from heaven. And John the Baptist thought the savior who would come with fire was appearing in the person of Jesus. Many people, still today, expect a great epic battle on earth to bring fire from heaven down on the heads of the oppressors and lift up the ones who've lived too long under both the boot of foreign armies and the guilt imposed by their own leaders. 

It’s also a recurrent theme today, isn’t it? People from many walks of life are feeling unheard, restricted, squashed, threatened, exiled, and erased. Whether it’s middle America struggling to figure out retirement and healthcare, women who aren’t taken seriously when they say ‘no,’ Native Americans who for generations have been lied to and abused and are still today having their rights stolen and ignored, Black men and women and children being assumed guilty at first sight, LGBTQ people being looked at as sexual freaks of nature, the poor being told they deserve their poverty, Muslims and refugees being automatically labeled as terrorists… it seems we will find any excuse to make one another ‘less than’ just to make ourselves feel better, stronger, more secure. This is *not* the way to the kingdom of God.

John the Baptist called us out on this behavior, and it got him killed. He fully expected Jesus the Messiah to come in like a raging fire and wipe the slate clean for a fresh start. We hear this hope in the song of Hannah, which Mary sang when the angel came to announce her pregnancy: “Let the king beware for your justice tears every tyrant from the throne. The hungry poor shall weep no more for the food they can never earn…” It’s a protest song, a rebellion song, out of the mouth of first a barren woman and then from a young girl pregnant outside of marriage.

Songs are the weapons of the oppressed. Remember the old spirituals that helped escaped slaves find their way north? Songs that reveal history and mock incompetent leaders. Songs that stick in the ear and move the heart. Songs that change minds and offer strength for standing up against injustice. Chants that spread across crowds at protests. And the song of Mary speaks to the hope that Jesus is, that Isaiah pointed to, that we still in many places long for today. The lame will leap like the deer, the deaf will hear, the voiceless will be heard again. John the Baptist wanted to know if Jesus was the Messiah, and Jesus responded with the witness of his ministry so far: look and see how the sick are healed, the poor hear good news, the clueless are made aware. The world is turning, the ones living underfoot are learning to stand up, the silenced are no longer keeping their heads down, the songs are still being sung, the hope is spreading.

We sing of joy this third Sunday of Advent because the oppressed and the oppressors are being made free. It’s a long and arduous process, to be sure. We are still living in it, for certain. But it is ongoing. The ones who refuse to hear are beginning to hear. The ones who refuse to see are beginning to see. The ones who have been silenced are having their voices projected all over the world. And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at a God who loves the whole world, who declares all flesh is holy, who brings liberation to the captive and compassion to the hard of heart. When the oppressed rise up, and their dignity speaks to the dignity of all people, when the freedom of every person is recognized as tied up in the freedom of every person, when one group receives justice and sees to it that other groups also receive justice, when the hills and valleys of inequality are tumbled smooth into a direct pathway for homecoming, then we will truly recognize and know that the Messiah is among us. Then nothing will be able to silence our singing.

From tumbleweed to Rooted shoot

Isaiah 11:1-10

A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots. The spirit of the LORD shall rest on him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the LORD. His delight shall be in the fear of the LORD. He shall not judge by what his eyes see, or decide by what his ears hear; but with righteousness he shall judge the poor, and decide with equity for the meek of the earth; he shall strike the earth with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips he shall kill the wicked. Righteousness shall be the belt around this waist, and faithfulness the belt around his loins. The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them. The cow and the bear shall graze, their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder’s den. They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain; for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the LORD as the waters cover the sea. On that day the root of Jesse shall stand as a signal to the peoples; the nations shall inquire of him, and his dwelling shall be glorious.

Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19

Give the king your justice, O God, and your righteousness to the king’s son; that he may rule your people righteously and the poor with justice; that the mountains may bring prosperity to the people, and the hills, in righteousness. Let him defend the needy among the people, rescue the poor, and crush the oppressor. May he live as long as the sun and moon endure, from one generation to another. Let him come down like rain upon the mown field, like showers that water the earth. In his time may the righteous flourish; and let there be an abundance of peace till the moon shall be no more. Blessed are you, LORD God, the God of Israel; you alone do wondrous deeds! And blessed be your glorious name forever, and may all the earth be filled with your glory. Amen. Amen.

Romans 15:4-13

Whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, so that by steadfastness and by the encouragement of the scriptures we may have hope. May the God of steadfastness and encouragement grant you to live in harmony with one another, in accordance with Christ Jesus, so that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Welcome one another, therefore, just as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God. For I tell you that Christ has become a servant of the circumcised on behalf of the truth of God in order that he might confirm the promises given to the patriarchs, and in order that the Gentiles might glorify God for his mercy. As it is written, “Therefore I will confess you among the Gentiles, and sing praises to your name”; and again he says, “Rejoice, O Gentiles, with his people”; and again, “Praise the Lord, all you Gentiles, and let all the peoples praise him”; and again Isaiah says, “The root of Jesse shall come, the one who rises to rule the Gentiles; in him the Gentiles shall hope.” May the God of hope will you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Matthew 3:1-12

In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said, “The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.’” Now John wore clothing of camel’s hair with a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey. Then the people of Jerusalem and all Judea were going out to him, and all the region along the Jordan, and they were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. But when he saw many Pharisees and Sadducees coming fro baptism, he said to them, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruit worthy of repentance. Do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Even now the axe is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

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Alright, then. John the Baptist pulls no punches. Here’s the deal, he proclaims: bear fruit worthy of repentance, or don’t bother pretending to repent. And if we can’t translate from Scripture what that looks like, imagine, if you will, the husband who beats his wife and every time cries apologies. Imagine, if you will, the drunk who spends every paycheck on beer and every night comes home broke and promising to do better next time. Imagine, if you will, the ones who claim to be women’s rights advocates who refuse to let women speak for themselves no matter how many times women tell them that what they are doing is actively harmful to women. Either repent, turn around, change the behavior and stop doing harm, or stop pretending to be right and righteous. John’s basic message is ‘stop pretending to want a better world if you’re not going to do anything different about it.’ People who heard that came to him in droves. They were tired of the oppression, tired of living like they were untouchable, tired of swimming in the accusations and condemnations of their community. At least, that’s why some of them came to him. Others thought it was another great way to check the boxes of righteous living, to earn their brownie points from whatever god might be paying attention, trying to polish up their public image a bit for their fans and for their detractors. It’s a great publicity ploy to show up with vocal support for this kind of righteous loner, but without any real commitment behind it, that showing up is just weaksauce, blown away by the latest breeze, like a tumbleweed.

But John, acting in the line of prophets, was clear about his message: take care of the downtrodden, look after the poor, stop the oppression of God’s people! And while initially that meant only the Jewish people, Paul writes in the letter to the Romans that Jesus has expanded that justice to include even the Gentiles. Even we who were once outsiders. Don’t forget we were not God’s original chosen people. We were not the ones promised a homeland. We were not the first love of God in this story. In fact, we often were the enemy, the conquering power, the “other” people. But as outsiders, we did have a different viewpoint on how lived actions lined up with or diverted from spoken confession of values and morals. This often is how it turns out, the ones on the margins shining the light on the way the masses are moving off course, just as John the Baptizer lived in that disjoined space between civilization and the wild places, wearing wild animal skins and eating those insects which typically devoured the crops in time of famine. John and his proclamation were abrasive at best, and especially so toward those in positions of power.

Because the Kingdom of Heaven come near is amazingly good news for some, and amazingly devastating news for others. But it is the same news, the same equalizing, the same leveling of the playing field. The root of Jesse, the source of the covenant between God and God’s people, the standard from which the Kingdom of God grows in our midst. It is digging deep down and holding on, as stubborn as anything, to break apart that rocky soil of dis-ease and disinterest so that new life can actually, finally, grow up from the rubble of our histories of destruction. The Jesse stump is not dead as once we thought, but thriving in the deep of the dark soil, working beneath the surface, getting at the heart and core of our illness and bringing out justice and equity from the disasters that threaten life at every turn. Rather than tumbleweed faith, John bears witness to the deeply rooted capacity of God to live in our world with active and intentional compassion. Rather than simply stopping by to be the last-minute hero who saves the day after most of the work has been done by those who lost their lives for the cause, John puts his life on the line, his livelihood, his reputation, his safety, for the sake of uprooting those false prophets who proclaim peace when there is no peace, who turn a blind eye whenever it suits their comfort. John is no tumbleweed, but even John only points to the truly steadfast root of Jesse. That Jesus who is coming is not only the deeply rooted covenant promise, but also the soil in which is grows, and the sun and rain which feed it.

As we prayed in the Psalm this morning: Defend the needy. Rescue the poor. Crush the oppressor. Yes, Lord, quickly come. We need this rescuing, and we need the courage to act alongside the God who works among us in uprooting injustice, so that true righteousness may flourish. John’s promise of a harvest come soon is good news, when the baptism of water for repentance is replaced with that baptism by fire that burns the chaff within us to reveal the heart of our worthiness, the core of our validation, the holiness that resides within each of God’s own people to live in that Kingdom way, where justice and equity are as common as bread and wine.

Then will our children be safe to play in the fields freely. Then salvation will be wholly recognized. Then we will know truly our connections in the order of things, when we learn to trust God’s care of the cosmos as though it is true and honest and good, as it was called in the beginning. Come, Emmanuel, God with us, root of Jesse. Come and restore our chaff-encased hearts to beat again with the compassion of your heart, broken open for the sake of the whole world.