Tuesday, December 24, 2013

The Scene at the Manger

The Scene at the Manger

Sermon preached by the Rev. Lowell E. Grisham, Rector
St. Paul's Episcopal Church, Fayetteville, Arkansas
December 24, 2013; Christmas Eve, Year A
Episcopal Revised Common Lectionary

(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 towns 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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The manger scene is a poignant one.  At one level it is so common, so universal.  A loving couple simply rejoicing at the birth of their child.  Yet, this pastoral scene is set in a wider political context.  In the background is the vulnerable circumstance of citizens living under the capricious rule of a foreign occupying army.  Mary and Joseph are in Bethlehem, a long way from their home in Nazareth, because Imperial Rome wants a census.  Knowing who everyone is and where they are makes it easier for Rome to exploit them. 

This family is dislocated and for a time, homeless.  But like countless dislocated individuals and families throughout history, they make the best of it.  They find the best place possible, and their child is born in a stable for livestock.

That was over two-thousand years ago, and here we are together on a cold evening, gathered to celebrate that moment again. 

I’d like to invite you to look with me at the cast of characters within this manger scene. 

Let’s start with Mary and Joseph.  Mary is a peasant girl, probably around thirteen or fourteen, just past puberty when girls were married in her day.  She was given an extraordinary angelic invitation to become the mother of a special child.  She simply says, “Yes.”  “Let it be unto me according to thy word.” 

She could have protested modestly, “Oh no!  It’s impossible.  Who am I?  I’m nobody?”  Instead she says simply, “I am the handmaid of the Lord.  Let it be unto me according to thy word.” 

Mary teaches us something.  She knows who she is and whose she is.  She accepts the royal identity.  Because she can accept that she is the handmaid of the Lord, she can say “Yes” to the extraordinary invitation to bear Jesus.  Orthodox theologians call her the “Mother of God.”  Tonight we celebrate her acceptance of the impossible possibility.

We are invited to accept for ourselves an identity similar to Mary’s.  The creation story of Genesis and our own baptism announces to each of us:  “You are the child of God.  You are the beloved.  You are created in the image and likeness of God.  You are infinitely loved by God.” 

I am convinced that if each of us could accept and embrace that royal identity, we could become as relaxed and confident as Mary.  There is no reason why we cannot accept with her the vocation to be “God-bearers,” the very hands and heart of Jesus in the world.  We also can say with Mary, “Let it be unto me according to thy word.”

Mary at the manger:  The image of one accepting the impossible possibility.

By her side is Joseph.  This past Sunday we read Matthew’s story of Joseph’s dilemma.  He was engaged to Mary, and she was inconveniently pregnant.  He knows what that means in a patriarchal society.  Everything he has ever been taught by his religion and his family tells him what to do – put away the immoral woman; leave her to the punishment she deserves –banishment or death.  But he does something unexpected.  He listens to his intuition.  He listens to his dreams.  And he dares to hope something unimaginable.  Her embarrassing pregnancy will mediate God’s blessing.  On this night, his unimaginable hope comes true. 

From time to time we are asked to follow our heart, our intuition, and our dreams instead of what we know to be true – what we’ve been taught; what everyone knows; the conventional understanding.  Sometimes we need to hope the unimaginable hope.  Kind, courageous, humble Joseph shows us how to do that.  He hovers protectively over the small, vulnerable baby – a child destined to offer unimaginable hope for the whole world.

At our manger scene we also see shepherds.  We tend to romanticize shepherds after so many Christmas pageants with cute children in bathrobes and towel headdresses.  But in Mary and Joseph’s day, shepherds were disreputable.  Everyone believed them to be crooks and thieves, not unlike the way we might think of inner city gangs today.  Shepherds were hard people living hard lives.  Cautious, cynical, defensive.  Knowing the world was against them, they took responsibility to do whatever they had to do in order to provide for themselves and their sheep. 

But these shepherds see something that challenges their cynicism.  Their dark, suspicious world becomes brilliantly lighted with a heavenly, angelic message:  “Fear not:  for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy.” 

Shepherds are men with sharp, fearful sensitivities.  They have been trained from childhood to be alert and suspicious of any unusual light or sound or shadow as a possible threat.  Their cold world is full predators and enemies.  It has always been so for their fathers and their fathers’ fathers for centuries.  Everyone has always regarded them as threatening, and everyone outside their flock has been a potential threat to them. 

Now, out of nowhere comes a message of wondrous joy.  Joy!?  When do shepherds ever get to experience joy?  Maybe when they rescue a lamb from a wolf.  But now they hear of another lamb, wrapped in the swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.  And the angels fill the skies and these shepherds’ imaginations with feelings of peace and good will toward all. 

They go to Bethlehem and find the manger.  Then something remarkable happens.  The parents of this newborn child welcome them.  Mary and Joseph welcome shepherds into this holy place.  Despised, mistrusted, low-life shepherds find hospitality and acceptance by the side of the infant Jesus.  They can share the joy of new life.  The joy the angels proclaimed.  Wondrous joy!

Mary, Joseph and the Shepherds.

Mary shows us how to accept the impossible possibility that we are so loved by God that we too are invited to be God-bearers.  Our bodies also bring the divine life into the world.  Let it be.

Joseph shows us how to see beyond everything we’ve been taught, everything we’ve ever known, to trust in possibilities we can’t imagine, to carry, gently and courageously, an unimaginable hope.

And the shepherds invite us to relax our fearful defensiveness, to trust the light.  Fear not!  Do not be afraid!  There is goodness beyond what we can conceive.  Good tidings of great joy for all people.  Every human being.  Whether displaced or despised; vulnerable, perplexed or afraid. 

The earth is filled with welcoming light.  All are welcome at the manger.  Life is filled with great joy.  Wondrous joy!

Can you feel the radiance of the eternal light, shining on us now for more than two millennia?  Announcing to us a birth; a birth in our lives:  a birth of impossible possibility; a birth of unimaginable hope; a birth of wondrous joy.

And so we sing:

Oh holy Child of Bethlehem,
descend to us we pray;
cast out our sin and enter in,
be born in us today.
We hear the Christmas angels
the great glad tidings tell;
O come to us, abide with us,
our Lord Emmanuel!

Saturday, December 07, 2013

We See What We Believe

We See What We Believe

Sermon preached by the Rev. Lowell E. Grisham, Rector
St. Paul's Episcopal Church, Fayetteville, Arkansas
December 8, 2013; 2 Advent, Year A
Episcopal Revised Common Lectionary

(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 for 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 ax 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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I first preached this sermon December 5, 2004

When Christians hear the phrases from the prophet Isaiah in our first reading, we hear them as prophecies of Jesus.  "A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse...  The spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord."

But at the same time, if we read Isaiah with respect, we recognize that Jesus did not fulfill all of the prophetic expectations, at least not in the way Isaiah expected.  Isaiah expected this branch from the roots of Jesse to be a king who would rule justly.  "With righteousness he shall judge the poor, ...and with the breath of his lips he shall kill the wicked."  That's not what happened, at least not literally. Jesus did not assume an earthly throne to judge and kill.  Looking further into Isaiah's oracle, wolves did not stop stalking lambs, and parents could not let their children play with poisonous snakes.

In Jesus we see one who embodies much of what Isaiah hoped for, but not all.  In some very important ways Jesus was different than what was expected by those who trusted in the Messianic prophecies of Isaiah and the other prophets.  Many of his contemporary Jewish religious leaders rejected Jesus' ministry because it did not fulfill their prophetic expectations.  Especially those who pinned their hopes upon a kingly military leader who would punish and judge the wicked.  That wasn't Jesus.

The early church was sure that John the Baptist recognized in Jesus the fulfillment of the Biblical prophecies and the church saw John as the forerunner of the Promised One:  "The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: 'Prepare the way of the Lord.'" John's prophecy anticipates Jesus.  John's message sounds like Jesus -- "Repent, for the kingdom of God has come near."  But John expected that the coming kingdom would be one of winnowing and clearing of threshing floors and the burning of chaff with unquenchable fire, and the person holding the winnowing fork and administering the fire would be the Promised One.  It didn't happen that way.  John's preaching of the kingdom of God provoked fear in the disobedient; Jesus' preaching of the kingdom inspired hope through love.  Next week we'll hear a perplexed John ask from prison, "Are you the one?"

For both Isaiah and John the Baptist, Jesus was a fulfillment of what they hoped for but also was different from what they expected.

Those who were looking for a Promised One who would bring the blessings of healing, compassion, love and forgiveness and who would inspire a new way of living within that kind of reality welcomed Jesus with joy as the fulfillment of their deepest hopes.  But those who were looking for a ruler who would punish the wicked and reward the righteous were disappointed.  Both groups could point to the prophecies of scripture for support of their expectations.  I see similar divisions in the church today. 

There are Christians whose primary image of Jesus is a triumphalistic one -- "We're for Jesus!" -- who speak of Jesus as the only way and a narrow way, who look forward to a judgment between right and wrong either at death or at an apocalyptic second coming, who regard public institutional allegiance to Jesus as the critical factor to salvation, who dismiss this world as a disposable commodity and regard admission into heaven as the prime concern of faith. 

There are other Christians whose primary image of Jesus is a loving one, who speak of Jesus as the spirit of universal compassion and healing, who see their calling to serve the world with care as people whose hearts have been transformed by the love of Christ, and who trust in the goodness of God in this life and the life to come.  Both groups can point to the witness of scripture for support of their expectations.

I recall a fascinating report on our public radio KUAF a while back.  According to scholar Drew Westen there is "a design flaw in the human brain.  We have a tendency to believe what we want to believe.  We seek information and draw conclusions consistent with what we want to be true."  In other words, we don't just look at facts, weigh them, and come to the conclusion that the evidence supports.  Without knowing it, we also weigh what we would feel like if we come to one conclusion or another, and we usually choose the conclusion that would make us feel better, no matter what the facts are.[1]

If you want a triumphalistic savior who will reward his righteous followers and punish the wicked and foolish, you can look at the scriptures and the events of the world around you and draw conclusions consistent with what you want to be true.  But the facts are, your worldview will be in conflict with the person and ministry of Jesus as he actually lived. 

Here's a better way.  Look at the essence of Jesus.  He summarized all the Law and the Prophets with the Great Commandment: "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and mind and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself."  He added to that the New Commandment, "Love one another."  I invite you to believe that love is the central characteristic of Jesus.  I invite you to embrace St. John's simple claim, "God is Love."

What if we took advantage of that alleged design flaw in the human brain, and let love be the filter through which we experience life?  If we do have a tendency to believe what we want to believe, then believe in love.  That's the central characteristic of the revelation of God through Jesus.  Experience life through the primary filter of love.  Love life.  Seek information and draw conclusions consistent with what we want to be true, that love is everything. 

Maybe the word "love" is too general, too intimidating.  Then choose one of love's adjectives, and apply it to every area of life, both within and without.  Which part of love excites your imagination?  You might choose kindness, or compassion.  Forgiveness.  Understanding or noncritical acceptance.  Let some compelling form of love focus the content of your belief.  If you will do that, you will be more likely to witness the presence and activity of Jesus in the world.  If you are looking for that which is consistent with his very being, you are less likely to be distracted and disappointed by the expectations that he will not fulfill.

If you believe that the world is rotten and that even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees and his winnowing fork is in his hand, you will experience a world consistent with your belief.  But you may be disappointed when you realize that agenda is not Jesus' agenda. 

If you believe in love -- that God creates the world out of love, that God loves everything and everyone, that compassion, kindness, forgiveness, understanding, acceptance is the very energy that constitutes the universe, then your life can be transformed.  You can let go of the mean stuff, including the mean stuff in scripture.  You can see reality the way Jesus sees it, with eyes of loving compassion.  Your heart can be transformed into the heart of Jesus.  You can cooperate with what God is doing for the healing of the world. That's the good life. 


[1]National Public Radio, November 23, 2004.  Commentary: Cable news programs exploit the way people's brains are wired.
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