Beyond the Sentimentality of Christmas

Audio Recording of “Beyond the Sentimentality of Christmas” recorded in worship (09:39)
Christmas Day
Texts: Isa 52.7-10; Heb 1.1-4; Jn 1.1-18; (Lk 2.1-20)

These words from John have no shepherds, no angels, no magi from the east, and yet they evoke in us the same warm feelings that we get from Luke’s and Matthew’s stories because these old familiar words recount for us what we know to be true: in the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. These words are sentimental and spiritual, reminding us of all the times we have heard them, and all that they have meant to us, not unlike Christmas itself. Whatever else Christmas is, it is a time of year that is strongly tied to our memories—both painful and pleasant—our families, and our traditions. Perhaps that is one of the reasons why we await it with such eagerness.

However, as we gather this Christmas morning, we know that when we wish each other “Merry Christmas,” we are wishing for so much more than just the nostalgia and the sentimentality and the sense of brotherhood among women and men everywhere. The Christmas about which we read in the Bible is not just a celebration of one baby’s birth or a season of warm thoughts and warm hearts; the Christmas about which the evangelists write is a brimming societal and political revolution.

The Truth About Shepherds

Audio Recording of “The Truth About Shepherds” recorded in worship (11:46)
Christmas Eve
Texts: Isa 9.2-7; Titus 2.11-14; Lk 2.1-20

“The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.” We’ve all got a mental image of these shepherds. For most of us, it’s probably the kind of picture that we so often see portrayed in Christmas cards and Nativity scenes: gentle men with beards and crooks, dressed in humble robes, maybe one of them is carrying a lamb over his shoulders. For a baby born in a cattle stall, they seem the perfect visitors. Their presence completes the scene of Jesus’ humble birth among the noble livestock in the stable. The reality of shepherds, however, is a bit different.

In the time of the Bible, shepherding was not a respected profession. Shepherds were stereotyped as liars, degenerates, and thieves. Shepherding was the work you took when you couldn’t hold down a respectable job. Because they spent all their time out in the fields with sheep, not only did they stink, but they also lacked the manners and etiquette of polite society.

The testimony of a shepherd was inadmissible in court because they couldn’t be trusted to tell the truth, and many towns had ordinances barring them from entering the city limits. Luke tells us these shepherds were watching their flocks by night, which is to say that they were guarding their sheep from theft by other shepherds, probably while armed.

The religious establishment took particular exception to shepherds. Because of their profession, they were unable to keep the Sabbath, and were ritually unclean and therefore unable to enter the temple. The Pharisees considered shepherds the scum of society, as bad as prostitutes and tax collectors.

These were not the meek and gentle folk we have represented in our children’s story bibles. They were frightening, dangerous, and unpredictable. If Luke were setting this story in 2019, the heavenly chorus might appear to a gang of Hell’s Angels.

Who Will Save Us?

Audio Recording of “Who Will Save Us?” recorded in worship (13:51)
4th Sunday in Advent, Year C
Texts: Isa 7.10-16; Rom 1.1-7; Matt 1.18-25

A big thing happened this week. For only the third time in our nation’s history, our president has been impeached. Some people think this is a very good thing. Others think it is a very bad thing. I happen to know for a fact that there are some of each here in this room.

When big things like this happen, they can’t be ignored because they affect us all deeply; nor should they be ignored. To paraphrase Karl Barth, the best preaching is done with a Bible in one hand and a newspaper in the other. I can’t tell you how many times have I read or heard from my colleagues via Facebook or in conversation that if a pastor isn’t preaching this Sunday about the shooting or the protest or the whatever-it-was that happened this week, they’re not really preaching.

Patient Longing

Audio Recording of “Patient Longing” recorded in worship (13:07)
3rd Sunday in Advent, Year C
Texts: Isa 35.1-10; Jas 5.7-11; Mt 11.2-11

When John first saw Jesus coming for baptism at the Jordan, he knew right away who he was dealing with. We are told he recognized the one who was coming with his winnowing fork in his hand, ready to separate the grain from the chaff. He was hesitant to baptize the one whose shoes he felt unworthy to carry. But now, sitting in prison, word gets back to him about what Jesus is doing, and he begins to have his doubts. The axe is still lying at the root of the trees, right where John left it, and he’s beginning to wonder if Jesus is ever going to pick it up.

John the Baptist Announcing the Messiah, mid 12th Century mosaic. Cappella Palatina di Palermo, Italy. From Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN.

When his disciples ask Jesus about this, he tells them to report back what they are seeing and hearing. Recovery of sight and hearing, healing of leprosy and lameness, resurrection of the dead—these are all surely signs of the coming kingdom. Nevertheless, there is decidedly less unquenchable fire involved than John thought there would be; which is why Jesus tells him: “Blessed are those who take no offense at me.”

Fear, Wrath, and Hope: An Advent Love Story

Audio Recording of “Fear, Wrath, and Hope” recorded in worship (15:42)
2nd Sunday in Advent, Year C
Texts: Isa 10.1-11; Rom 15.4-13; Mt 3.1-12

I got a text from my buddy Jeremy the other day: “So again I see the person standing around with a sign on the side of the road: turn to Jesus, be saved, etc. Is it bad that I want to tell them to be more Christ-like themselves? Maybe go and volunteer instead of standing on a street corner?”

My reaction would have been similar to Jeremy’s. Hearing people saying things like that turns me off, makes me frustrated. It makes me want to go argue—or, more often, avoid them entirely. I imagine many of you would feel the same. It’s interesting, then, that Matthew chooses to begin his story about Jesus with just such a person: a man named John, dressed in camel hair, wading in a river screaming, “Repent! The Kingdom of God has come near!” Not only that, Matthew tells us that John is the one who baptizes Jesus, and that according to Jesus himself, this is right and proper. This means that, unlike my friend Jeremy and perhaps the rest of us, Matthew believes that John and his message are very Christ-like—so Christ-like, in fact, that Christ himself chooses to continue John’s work.

Stone relief sculpture, ca. 1220-1240, Cathédrale d’Amiens, France. From Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN.

How does that make you feel, to think that John’s message of judgement is what Jesus chooses to build on? Does that give you a warm, fuzzy feeling inside? Or does it give you a pit in your stomach? Think for a moment about how John’s message makes you feel about God… and then ask yourself why. Why do you feel that way? Why do you react to John’s message the way you do?