A long time ago in a country not so far away a pregnant
teenager left her home and family to stumble over rocky roads with a man she
hardly knew to a place she didn’t belong.
 |
| No Room at the Inn, Eugene Higgins, 1940s, USA |
There was no room when she reached her destination, and
little welcome. Like millions of refugees and migrants before and after, she
took what little she was offered, and
waited.
Her historians don’t record the details of delivery: how
many hours in panting and pain, how many minutes of excruciating pushing. Who held the baby as he struggled into view?
Whose dirty knife cut the cord?
In our warm, clean homes, doors and windows safely locked,
we miss the weight of sacrifice and glory: the one who sang earth into being
turned his back on privilege and power, set aside his right to manage every
moment, threw down every shred of safety.
The king of time and space became so small a donkey’s foot
could crush him. Chose a place that was no place at all: temporary shelter with
a beleaguered people, a migrant on the move, one of the displaced in a world
groaning in the grasp of ruthless men thinking only of reputation, power, and
indulgence.
Out in the hillsides the rootless, expendable riffraff slept
near their sheep in the open air. These were the men of low expectation –
landless, powerless, precarious peasants hanging from the fringe of a fragile
economy. Nobodies. Nowhere. With not much to offer.
Afraid. No doubt often afraid. Of the silent predators
seeking their sheep. Of the roving thieves hungry for meat. Of the soldiers
ready to take what they wanted, swords an answer to every objection.
Afraid. Of incurable diseases: everywhere, always. Fevers
that could throw a healthy man to the ground and claim his life in hours.
Leprosy that lingered for years, slowly stealing fingers, toes, hope, joy, then
life itself.
Sometimes in the scripture record angels took human form,
walking the same roads as men and women, hiding their brilliance in dusty
robes.
Not these angels. They lit up the sky, filled the night,
carried a sliver of heaven’s brilliance .
Terrifying brilliance.
Fear not.
What a message to offer, in a world laden with fear.
In a world where darkness pressed hard every night, where
every human contact carried possible destruction.
 |
| Shepherd and Sheep, Allen Lewis, ca 1930s US |
Fear not.
Luke 2:9 says “An
angel of the Lord appeared to them, and a
bright light shone around them, and they were sore afraid,” “filled with
great fear,” “terrified.”
“Fear not,” the angel said.
“I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the
people.
“Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you.”
The Bible is full of outrageous encounters, but this may be
one of the most outrageous.
The message is so personal – and grand.
I bring YOU good news that will cause great joy for all the
people.
I wonder how they even heard the words, crouching there on
their hillside, unnatural light shining all around them.
You: ragged shepherds.
You: nobodies on a nowhere hill.
News for you, but more than you. News of great joy – for all
people. Everywhere.
And this is the news: A Savior has been born TO YOU. He is
Messiah, the Lord.
It’s hard to hear what you’re not prepared to hear.
Hard to accept a new idea that crashes the old framework and
sends the pieces spinning.
Yet the shepherds did as the angel said: ran to see the
savior they’d been offered.
Ran to share the good news that they’d heard.
All that was a long time ago.
We live in a different place, surrounded by protections and provisions unknown to those distant strangers.
We live in a different place, surrounded by protections and provisions unknown to those distant strangers.
Deadbolts on our doors, debit cards in our wallets.
Smart phones that tell us the way and keep us always in
touch with family, friends, food, funds.
 |
| Otto Schubert, Dresden, Germany |
We don’t need God, I’ve been told.
We have science.
Technology.
We know what’s real. The rest is a crutch.
We don’t need angels.
Saviors.
Dusty old stories with their demanding implications.
We have medications to manage our fear.
Weapons to manage the unexpected troubles.
We have nothing to learn from mother and baby.
Nothing to gain from listening to shepherds.
Yet, even now, on hillsides across the globe, hungry young
men wrap their fear around them, waiting, even now, for news. Good news.
And yes, even now, girls not yet women hug their swollen
bellies, dream of shelter, grieve for a kindness and mercy they have rarely
seen, can barely imagine. Pray their babies will see a peace they themselves have
never known.
Even now, on a quiet night, if we go outside and listen, we
can almost hear the cries of the homeless infants. Almost hear the tramp of the
soldiers’ boots, the hum of the drones, the anxious bleating sheep.
If we listen we can almost hear it.
The surprising song of a teenage girl:
He has brought down rulers from
their thrones
but has lifted up the humble.
He has filled the hungry with good
things
but has sent the rich away empty.
If we try, we can almost hear the angel’s words:
Fear not.
I bring you good news of great joy, that shall be to all the
people.
There is born to you a Savior -- who is Christ the Lord.
Glory to God in the highest to God,
and on earth peace,
good will to all.
The shepherds ran to see.
The mother treasured the words in her heart.
The child grew to a man who never once took a sword in his
own defense.
Who went to his death still proclaiming good news of great
joy.
Good news of great joy.
For all people.
All.
And yes, for you.
Every single, blessed you.
This is the fourth in a four week Advent
series.
Earlier Advent posts on this blog:
Earlier Advent posts on this blog:
Advent One: Hope beyond Terror, Nov. 29,2015Advent Two: Listening in the Desert, Dec. 6, 2015Advent One: Hope is Our Work, Nov. 30, 2014Advent Two: Peace is Our Promise, Prayer and Practice, Dec. 7, 2014Advent Three: Love is the Air We Breathe, Dec. 14, 2014Advent Four: Joy is the Song We're Given, Dec. 21, 2014Advent One: Rethinking Portfolios, Dec. 1, 2013Advent Two: Resisting Idols and Injustice, Dec. 8, 2013Advent Four: Rejoicing in Mystery, Dec. 22, 2013Advent One: How Do I Know? Dec. 2, 2012Advent Two: Outsiders In Dec. 9, 2012Advent Three: Question. Fruit. Dec. 16, 2012Advent Four: Sing Alleluia, Dec. 23, 2012Advent One: What I'm Waiting for, Nov. 26, 2011Metanoia, Dec 4, 2011Voice in the Wilderness, Dec. 11, 2011Common Miracles, Dec. 18, 2011
The Christmas Miracle, Dec. 24, 2011Advent Two: John the Baptist, Dec. 12, 2010Mary's Song, Dec. 19, 2010Christmas Hope, Dec. 24, 2010
