WELCOMING THE HOLY CHILD… TO OUR WORLD

Isaiah 64:1-9

November 27, 2011 – Rev. Jerry Duggins

 

 

Now that we’ve been well-fed, had our tryptophan-induced naps, watched the obligatory turkey day football and braved, or avoided, the mad rush of “Black Friday,” it is time to begin the serious preparation for Christmas.

 

Some things that puzzle me as we enter this season that the church calls Advent and the culture views as the holiday shopping season: Why do so many people find it challenging to figure out what to get mom and dad this year? Why do parents always say “Don’t get me anything” when you know they’d be hurt if you took them seriously? Why do some people look at shoppers as unsophisticated, shallow, betrayers of the real meaning of Christmas, while some shoppers look at their critics as ungrateful curmudgeons? Why do some people enter the season with that spirit of celebration that sees every event as generating energy for the climactic Christmas Day, while others view them as a series of obligations that leave them drained by the time Christmas finally arrives? Why do some see it as the “most wonderful time” of the year while others experience it as the most stressful?

 

Where is the truth: Is Advent a season of spiritual renewal, the anticipation of God entering our world in a new way? Or does the way we celebrate it reflect a loss of spiritual depth and an embrace of the most superficial aspects of our culture?  There appears to be no indifference in any case. Some mock those who are into the season while others complain about the rise in the number of “scrooges.”

 

For those of you who haven’t figured it out yet, I love this time of year. I love the anticipation that will begin with lighting the first Advent candle when we sit down to eat later today. I love dragging out the box of Christmas books, rereading some of my favorites. I love setting up the Fontanini and the various other nativities around the house. I’m usually a little slow about the Christmas list but I like the opportunity to think about what I might want in the coming year. I like to shop and buy things that will bring a little joy into the lives of my family. And I love the special things we do in worship during this season culminating in what I consider the most meaningful service of the year on Christmas Eve.

 

What I don’t like about this time of year are the scripture readings. Even when Isaiah is being positive, there’s always this negative undercurrent. Listen to the prophet: “O, that you would tear open the heavens… that the nations might tremble.” What’s this fearsome image of God all about? And what’s with the implication in verse 5 that our sin is the result of God’s anger or hiding? Have we really “all become like one who is unclean?” Are the good things we do no more than a filthy cloth? Are the bad things we do so bad that we are completely swept away as with a strong wind? And why would the lectionary committee have chosen such texts just when we were ready to turn the corner on a difficult year and start thinking positive?

 

I’m so tempted to skip all this nonsense and proceed directly to our Advent theme for the day: welcoming the holy child into our world. But the curmudgeons and scrooges would want me to at least acknowledge that there is something to their complaints. So if you’ll pardon me, I’ll say just a word or two about the text.

 

I’ll begin with a brief picture of the historical context behind the prophet’s oracle. The prophet proclaims this word toward the beginning of what scholars refer to as the post-exilic period of Israel’s history. Israel’s best and brightest have returned to Jerusalem after captivity in Babylon. They are still the vassal of Cyrus, but at least they are “home” and can begin to put their lives back together. Only it’s not going so well. There are still restrictions on their freedom, several attempts to rebuild the infrastructure have failed. There seems to be a general feeling of abandonment by God.

 

According to Paul Hanson, “we find the prophet seeking to keep God’s word of promise alive in a period in which the community stands at the brink of losing its spiritual identity by attributing setbacks not to human unfaithfulness but to divine indifference…. With the candor of one committed both to God’s honor and to the people’s well-being, he pleads with God, accepts solidarity with the people in their sin by raising his voice in confession, and recalls the past in the effort to prompt both sides to break the tragic impasse” (p.235).

 

So here’s a people who are unhappy with their world and want to blame God for the rampant evil. Not so different from those who ask, “Where is God in this commercialization of Christmas, in this secularizing of religion?” What possible hope can we hold out for our world? We have exchanged the politics of civility and compromise for the politics of division and polarization. We are no longer motivated by a commitment to be good citizens either individually or corporately. We have sacrificed intimacy for a pragmatic efficiency in our relationships. Consumerism has taught us to give our loyalty to the highest bidder.

 

One has to ask if the church is in danger of losing its “spiritual identity.” Are we sacrificing intimacy for more efficient structures of planning? Are we evaluating our church connection on the business model of a cost/benefit analysis? Are we making it difficult for God to speak to us? Could we describe our historical context as a “tragic impasse?”

 

As I said, I love this time of year and I don’t like being down about the world, but I worry about it? Don’t you? Maybe we don’t worry about the same things, but surely there are things about your world that concern you, that lead you to ask, “Where is God while this is going on?” I do hear the “rain on my parade” Christians who complain about Christ being taken out of Christmas. I do hear the serious “social justice” Christians who wonder how we can spend so much on ourselves in a world so full of need. I even recognize my own complicity in the problems.

 

But I’m not going to fix it without God. “Come down,” says the prophet on behalf of the people. Not just look upon us, not just consider us, not just send us some help… but “come down.” Don’t be angry with us. Don’t remember how badly we’ve botched things up. Just come down.

 

I love this about Advent too, that we can dare to ask for the outrageous. Think about it. Why should God be bothered with us? Why shouldn’t God just start over, as with Noah and his family? Why shouldn’t God just begin again, as with Abraham and Sarah? Maybe God is contemplating just that when Israel returns from captivity? Maybe seventy years in exile wasn’t enough to establish that quality of faithfulness that God was looking for in the people? ...

 

Maybe 2000 years later Jesus is still wondering whether we’ll be any better than the bungling disciples of the gospel stories?

 

But it’s Advent, and we get to pray to God: “Come down.” We get to wonder about God’s silence, even suggest that God is behaving with indifference to us. It’s not that we can’t do this other times of the year. Part of being in a relationship is that you complain when you’re being ignored. So we pray this way whenever we’re feeling it, but in Advent we do this not for ourselves alone but for the whole world.

 

“Consider we are all your people, says the prophet. I don’t know whether the prophet intends to include the whole world or just his community of faith, but today, in Advent, we remind God of this fact on behalf of the whole world of peoples.

 

“Consider we are all your people.” We get to pray this on behalf of the victims of violence, the underserved children at risk, the impoverished refugee, as well as those who are losing their struggle with addiction and their families, our unemployed friends and their families, a grieving parent and a bullied daughter.

 

“Consider we are all your people.” We get to pray this for a world that has become obsessed with things as status symbols, with climbing the social ladder, and the acquisition of wealth as well as for the self-righteous, the spoiler of celebration, and the self-appointed critic of curmudgeons.

 

“Consider we are all your people.” We pray this not just to God, but we say it to ourselves as well. It reminds us of our common bond even in the midst of conflict and controversy. It reminds us that God loves our enemy as well as ourselves. It reminds us that we ask God to speak to all of us a word of hope whether we are into the wonderful season… or not.

 

“Consider we are all your people.” This prayer prepares us to welcome the holy child… to the world. It reminds us and calls us to look forward to the coming of the holy child who is Jesus. And it calls us to see children who are in our world, the vulnerable of our world as holy and sacred to God. We welcome the holy child and the child as holy and in doing so we understand that God has come down and desires to be present throughout creation. It is the world that is the focus of our concern and it is to the world that we pray for God to come near, because it is in the world that we make our way through life, and it is to the world that we are bound, for “we are all God’s people.” Come, Lord Jesus… to our world. Amen.