December 25, 2005: CHRISTMAS

Readings
Isaiah 52:7-10
Hebrews 1:1-6
John 1:1-18

Those who actually wrote and originally passed on our Christian Scriptures would have a difficult time understanding why we modern followers of Jesus get so excited about Christmas. They couldn’t appreciate how something they thought peripheral to their faith plays such a central role in ours.

Mark, the first gospel writer, doesn’t mention, much less describe Jesus’ birth. If one read only the earliest Christian writings – Paul’s letters – one would find very little about it. The two evangelists, Matthew and Luke, who narrate the event, do so in contradictory ways. The feast of Christmas wasn’t even celebrated during the church’s first centuries.

Why? The reason is simple: for Jesus’ immediate disciples, no occurrence could be in the same ball park with his dying and rising. This double event was the basis of their faith and at the heart of the message they proclaimed.

None of them, for instance, would have applied today’s Deutero-Isaiah passage to Jesus’ birth. In its original context, the person carrying Yahweh’s “glad tidings, announcing peace, bearing good news, announcing salvation. ...” is addressing Jews who have been wasting away in the Babylonian Exile for almost 50 years. The prophet is demanding that his audience join him in praising Yahweh for the end of their captivity and the triumphant return to Jerusalem which they’re about to experience. Such words would have meshed only with the Christian experience of dying, then receiving a new life with Jesus. His historical birth was never as significant or memorable.

In a similar way, the author of our Hebrews pericope zeros in much more on what happened during and after Jesus’ death and resurrection than on what took place before it. Notice how the writer emphasizes “When the Son had cleansed us from our sins . . .” God’s speaking through the Son, creating with the Son, giving him a seat at the right hand of the majesty, even declaring him God’s Son, presuppose Jesus had already experienced the dying and rising which he expects us to imitate.

That seems to be why John’s well-known prologue comprising today’s gospel selection stresses not only Jesus’ pre-existence as God and his becoming flesh and dwelling among us, but also the sad fact that “his own did not accept him.”

We presume their rejection wasn’t triggered by Jesus’ pre-existence or birth, but because of the way he lived his life here on earth. It was his selfless giving that got him into trouble. How much “enduring love” can we actually take, much less integrate into our lives?

Many of us find it difficult to appreciate the faith and teaching of our evangelists because we don’t recognize what motivated them to create their writings. None of them intended to provide us with a biography of Jesus. They wrote not because they wanted to inform us of what Jesus said and did, but because they wanted to help us explore the meaning of what Jesus said and did. Don’t forget that many Christians lived their faith for over 40 years before the first gospel was written. That means that gospel narratives can’t be essential for our faith. They don’t give us faith, they simply help us understand the faith we already had before we ever read a gospel.

Before we get taken away by our modern celebration of Christmas, it might be good to remind ourselves of the dying and rising faith of Jesus’ first followers. Though none of the authors of our Christian Scriptures thought we could imitate Jesus’ birth, they were certain we could imitate his death and resurrection. They had already done so.

If we can’t find an aspect of the feast of Christmas in which we can die and rise, why, as Christians, are we celebrating it?

December 18, 2005: FOURTH SUNDAY OF ADVENT

Readings
II Samuel 7:1-5, 8-11, 16
Romans 16:25-27
Luke 1:26-38

Throughout the movie Field of Dreams, the Kevin Costner character tries to follow the command of the voice he hears telling him, “Build it and he will come.” He eventually figures out that the “it” is a ball diamond in the middle of an Iowa cornfield; he presumes the “he” is his deceased father’s hero from his youth, Shoeless Joe Jackson. Though he succeeds in building the diamond and bringing Jackson and some of his fellow players back from the dead, only at the end of the movie do we (and he) discover that the “he” who comes is actually his father.

Scripture students probably figured out that the movie’s end wouldn’t be so simple. They frequently deal with parallel scenarios in our sacred texts.

In today’s II Samuel passage, for instance, David is obsessed with building a “house” for Yahweh. He initially gets the okay for the project from the prophet Nathan. But that night, Yahweh appears to the prophet and redirects David’s plans. God will see to it that a house will be built, but it won’t be Yahweh’s; it will be David’s. The next morning, Nathan conveys God’s plan to the king: “He will establish a house for you. Your house and your kingdom shall endure forever . . . your throne shall stand firm forever.”

We find something similar in our gospel pericope. Of course, we’re so accustomed to Mary’s participation in Jesus’ conception and birth that we can’t imagine his being in our midst without her. We forget that the historical Mary of Nazareth wasn’t looking in the same direction as we. Though she no doubt anticipated and prayed for Yahweh’s saving of her people, she never gave herself a role in that salvation. Like most of us, she presumed she’d simply be a witness to the event, recognizing and thanking God when it finally arrived. She never dreamed she’d be an actual participant in something so tremendous.

Imagine how her anticipation of God’s salvation was instantly redirected by Gabriel’s announcement: “You shall conceive and bear a son and give him the name Jesus. Great will be his dignity and he will be called Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of David his father. He will rule over the house of Jacob forever and his reign will be without end.”

No wonder Mary’s first question is, “How can this be . . .?” She obviously had other plans.

Yet, as we hear in today’s Romans reading, such “redirection” didn’t stop with Mary. Immediately after Jesus’ death and resurrection, his followers presumed he came only for the Chosen People. He was Jewish, he had preached a reform for Jews, and all his disciples were Jews. Any Gentile interested in implementing his message and imitating his lifestyle, had first to convert to Judaism. It took a generation before some Christians began to understand that non-Jews were as welcome to share in the faith of Jesus as Jews were.

One of those liberal, insightful Christians, Paul of Tarsus, often reflected on that change of plans. His experience of evangelizing Gentiles forced him to reinterpret both his preconceived notions and the Scripture texts which supported them. As he eventually discovered, God’s plan of salvation wasn’t as clear as he had imagined.

He informs the Christian community in Rome that the gospel he proclaims “. . . reveals a mystery hidden for many ages but now manifested through the writings of the prophets, and at the command of the eternal God, made known to all the Gentiles . . .” How could a dedicated Jew such as Paul eventually find his destiny in announcing God’s salvation to non-Jews? It’s one of the most dramatic turnabouts in history.

Today’s three readings remind us not to become too comfortable in our faith. Our biblical authors warn us not to predict the end of the movie before the credits roll.

December 11, 2005: THIRD SUNDAY OF ADVENT

Readings
Isaiah 61:1-2, 10-11
I Thessalonians 5:16-24
John 1:6-8, 19-28

I frequently remind my students that the “call narratives” are usually the last part of a prophetic book to take shape. Only toward the end of their ministry are prophets finally able to surface what God was calling them to do. But since these narratives are frequently placed at the beginning of our collection of oracles, we presume the prophet knew all the details of his or her ministry from the beginning.

It’s significant today, for instance, that Third-Isaiah eventually discovers that the only people who benefited from the words he proclaimed were the lowly, the brokenhearted, captives and prisoners. I doubt he began his ministry with that specific audience in mind. Yet, no matter how his divinely commissioned service to his people evolved, the prophet was convinced that “the Spirit of Yahweh God is upon me, because Yahweh has anointed me.”

We falsely presume God’s anointing is accompanied with a master plan for carrying out the mission for which one has been anointed. Rarely is that the biblical case.

John the Baptizer provides a perfect example. According to the prologue to John’s gospel from which our third reading is taken, no one was ever more certain of the details and direction of his ministry than the Baptizer. “There was a man sent by God,” the evangelist tells us, “who came as a witness to testify to the light . . .” John understands his place in salvation history so well that he can confidently proclaim, “I am not the Messiah! I am not Elijah! I am not the prophet!”

When pressed, he replies, “I am a voice in the desert, crying out: Make straight the way of the Lord! . . . There is one among you whom you do not recognize – the one who is to come after me - the strap of whose sandal I am not worthy to unfasten.”

From the beginning, Christians have regarded John as Jesus’ precursor: the person who spent and gave his life to prepare the way for Jesus. Though no one denies he did this, scholars have been telling us for a long time that the historical John the Baptizer probably didn’t recognize his role in God’s plan until he walked through the pearly gates. One among many reasons for their belief springs from the fact that centuries after Jesus’ death and resurrection followers of John were still going around teaching that he, not Jesus, had been the Messiah the Jews had been anticipating.

Most commentators today presume John was somehow allied with the community of Qumran – the people who produced the Dead Sea Scrolls. And like other members of that community he simply went around proclaiming the belief that Yahweh was coming soon to rectify the wrongs they had suffered at the hands of their enemies. It probably never crossed his mind that he actually was preparing the ground for the seed Jesus would later plant.

Understand this; our I Thessalonians pericope becomes very significant.

In this section of the earliest Christian writing we possess, Paul’s not so much pointing out the meaning of the past as he’s trying to help his community experience the present.

Following the direction of this article, I presume the Apostle never thought this particular piece of correspondence would still be being read and reflected on almost 2,000 years after he dictated it. He composed these lines to help his followers imitate Jesus even when they weren’t 100% certain where the imitation was leading them.

“Rejoice always,” Paul commands his people. “Never cease praying, render constant thanks. . . Do not stifle the spirit. Do not despise prophecies. Test everything; retain what is good. Avoid any semblance of evil.”

Not a bad way to live – especially when we’re not exactly certain where our living is taking us.

December 4, 2005: SECOND SUNDAY OF ADVENT

December 4, 2005: SECOND SUNDAY OF ADVENT

Readings
Isaiah 40:1-5, 9-11
II Peter 3:8-14
Mark 1:1-8

No commentator can ever do justice to the message Deutero-Isaiah delivers in today’s first reading. They’re the first words of someone who eventually changed our faith. His proclamation has resonated in the minds and hearts of people of faith for over 2,500 years. Even mark, the first Christian evangelist, falls back on it when he sets the theme for his own work.

“Comfort, give comfort to my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and proclaim to her that her service is at an end, her guilt is expiated . . . A voice cries out: In the desert prepare the way of Yahweh! Make straight in the wasteland a highway for our God!”

For over fifty years, Jews who had endured the Babylonian Exile longed to hear these words. Their wildest dreams were finally about to come true. They were going home!

Because he delivered a message like this, we’d logically presume the prophet’s people would have honored and respected him like no other prophet in Jewish history. That’s why my students are always shocked to discover that some in Deutero-Isaiah’s community eventually killed him!

It was inevitable that Jesus’ earliest followers surfaced parallels between this unnamed prophet and the carpenter from Galilee. Their itinerant preaching leader had also proclaimed comfort and consolation and ended up being killed by some of his people. The basic reason both were martyred appears to be the same. No one could fault their message. The listeners simply couldn’t stomach how that message was to be fulfilled.

Jesus and Deutero-Isaiah gave almost the same proof for their optimism: “. . . The mouth of Yahweh has spoken.” In some ways these words remind me of the proof George Burns offers John Denver in the 1980 movie Oh, God! When Denver asks, “Why would anyone believe you’re the one sending me to them?” Burns replies, “No problem.” Then he hands him his card and says, “Show them this.” The card has just one word on it: “God!”

The power of God’s word only surfaces when people do what’s necessary to make that word real.

In the case of Deutero-Isaiah, the prophet expected his listeners to experience Yahweh working in ways and through people many found abhorrent. They had to broaden their faith to the point of seeing that the Messiah they were expecting to lead them out of exile wasn’t even a Jew. Yahweh had handed over that task to an uncircumcised, pagan, Gentile, Persian king named Cyrus. Everyone wanted God’s comforting word fulfilled, but not everyone wanted it fulfilled exactly like that.

In the same way, many Jews during Jesus’ earthly ministry weren’t willing to go through the dying and rising which he demanded of those “baptized in the Holy Spirit.” They wanted the comfort and consolation of having their sins forgiven, but they refused to carryout either John or Jesus’ regimen of repentance which brought about that forgiveness. Both demanded that their listeners become “new people,” accepting a value system which others thought ridiculous.

Writing nearly 100 years after Jesus’ death and resurrection, our II Peter author expects the same of his community. Addressing the fact that salvation hasn’t developed along the lines Jesus’ first followers had anticipated, the writer doesn’t despair just because Jesus’ Parousia hasn’t happened. Whatever the circumstances, Christians must continually “make every effort to be found without stain or defilement, and at peace in (God’s) sight.”

Our sacred authors’ message is both clear and biting: God’s working in our lives, bringing about the world all of us long for. But only those courageous enough to step outside the confines of the world in which they’re presently comfortable will ever receive the comfort God offers.