Giving and Receiving

When the time came for their purification according to the law of Moses, they brought him up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord (as it is written in the law of the Lord, “Every firstborn male shall be designated as holy to the Lord”), and they offered a sacrifice according to what is stated in the law of the Lord, “a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons.”

Now there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon; this man was righteous and devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit rested on him. It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah. Guided by the Spirit, Simeon came into the temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him what was customary under the law, Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying, “Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel.” And the child’s father and mother were amazed at what was being said about him. Then Simeon blessed them and said to his mother Mary, “This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul too.” There was also a prophet, Anna the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher. She was of a great age, having lived with her husband seven years after her marriage, then as a widow to the age of eighty-four. She never left the temple but worshiped there with fasting and prayer night and day. At that moment she came, and began to praise God and to speak about the child to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem. When they had finished everything required by the law of the Lord, they returned to Galilee, to their own town of Nazareth. The child grew and became strong, filled with wisdom; and the favor of God was upon him.   Luke 2:22-40

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This Sunday we are in the Christmas season, which means that, for the culture we live in, Christmas is over.  All around we see the debris of Christmas, while here in the church we’re saying, “At last – we have arrived and we are just getting started!” 

Because there is much more to Christmas than the shopping and the gift exchanging.  It’s after the rush is over that we have the chance to really see that.  This is a day to get some perspective on Christmas.  This is a day to get some perspective on giving and receiving.  It may take you out of your comfort zone, but it’s worth considering a different point of view, such as this one.

I read an article that said, from an economist’s point of view, Christmas gift giving is irrational.  It said “ill-chosen gifts caused between $4 billion and $13 billion a year in economic waste.”[1]  I didn’t want to know that.  Yet I see there is truth in it, for having personally been in the position of desperately searching for something – anything – to give to that one person I have absolutely no idea what to give.  Most of us have experienced that.  It’s the reason there are all those end aisle displays of ridiculous stuff, like football helmet chip & dip bowls.  I used to look at those and think, “Geez, who buys that stuff?”  Then I went to a relative’s house and saw one under the Christmas tree.

Surely some of the waste comes from the practice of purchasing some gift items to hold in reserve in case you receive an unexpected gift and feel the need to equalize.  So you pull some generic item out of your closet – like a cellophane package of potpourri – and pretend you chose it especially for this person.

But the root of the problem is this sense we have that we must be givers.  It is uncomfortable to be on the receiving end with nothing to give in exchange.  We feel we’re not holding up our end of the bargain. 

I don’t know if Mary and Joseph felt that way, but I wonder.  After the baby was born, they made their way up to the temple in Jerusalem to carry out their religious obligations.  The law required that Mary be ritually purified after the birth, and at that time she make an offering to God. For the people of Israel it was one of many occasions in life that required an offering to be made.  There were atonement offerings, purification offerings, and thank offerings to name a few. 

It was most likely a purification offering, also called a sin offering, Mary and Joseph were making. The Law of Moses states that the offering shall be a year-old lamb – but if the mother cannot afford a lamb she may bring two turtledoves or pigeons.  This is what Mary brought. 

I would imagine that her purification offering was, in a sense, also a thank offering – for who wouldn’t be thankful to safely deliver a healthy baby boy?  And I also imagine that Mary wished she had more to give.  Wouldn’t she have loved to bring a perfect lamb to offer that day?  She had been given a perfect child – how good it would have been to make such a fine offering in return. 

But she didn’t, so she gave what she had to give.

I admire Mary for her dignity and grace.  I know it is the nature of human beings to want to have the upper hand, to be the one who gives more than she gets.  We never want to feel that we owe something to someone.

So we stock extra stuff in our closets – just in case.  And we go to the store and buy what we need and then a little extra – just in case.  And we roam up and down the aisles of the department stores determined to find whatever it takes to even things out, to make sure we won’t be indebted to anyone. 

We have a particular way of looking at the world, wherein everything is a transaction: giving and receiving.  There is power in giving and there is weakness in receiving.  There is power in giving – especially if it is not reciprocated.  And there is weakness in receiving – especially if we are unable to reciprocate.

Of course, we would much rather see ourselves as givers than as receivers.  But the spiritual challenge for people of faith is to let go of that desire for the upper hand, that need for the power, and do just the opposite: to see ourselves as the ones who have received so much more than we could possibly ever repay.

You see, life is not really a transaction.  Life is a gift.

At the temple that day, Mary and Joseph and the baby encountered a man named Simeon.  Simeon had reached an age where he was looking forward to his death.  He was ready – but he knew that there was one more thing that would happen for him before he died, one more gift he would receive.  He would see the salvation of Israel with his own eyes.  And when he saw this little family he knew.

He had seen the light of the world in this baby boy, and Mary and Joseph were amazed by what he said.  I imagine they knew already that there was something very special about this child, but I wonder what they could understand about it all.  What did Simeon’s words mean to them?  What did the words of the prophet Anna mean to them?

There are times when the gospel tells us that Mary “treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.”  There were so many things, so many times, when Mary would ponder the meaning, the power, of this gift she had been given.

I think that Mary probably didn’t let it bother her that she had only a meager pair of turtledoves to offer at the temple, because she was growing accustomed to being a receiver of inscrutable gifts.  She had born in her body the Son of God, and this had brought her sorrow and discord – but also deep joy, the knowledge that she had been blessed beyond all reason. 

So now, as we are in this season of Christmas and we take the time to reflect on it, know these things.  Know that you are first and foremost one who receives.  Know that there is nothing you can give that equals what you have been given.  But even more, know that that is perfectly all right. 

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[1] “An Economist Goes Christmas Shopping.”  NYT 12.21.14

Thoughts on Christmas 2014

Prince of Peace.  Thoughts on Christmas, 2014.

John calls him the Word.  Luke calls him the Savior.  Isaiah calls him the Prince of Peace. 

Often a name means to signify whom someone is, how one will live, what one will bring to the world.  The names by which we know Jesus tell us just how this world is different because of him.  But how do we know him? 

This world is so full of war and suffering, you might think his birth made no difference at all.  And yet you may have personal experience that tells you things are different in your life because of his presence.  And there are stories that tell us just how different things can be when Christ’s presence is felt.  Even in the midst of war, peace can break through when the prince of peace comes.

In 1944, World War II had been raging for too many years.  But life still went on.  That Christmas there was a small family – a mother and her son – who lived near the German-Belgium border, preparing to sit down to their Christmas dinner.  Suddenly there was a knock on the door.  There were three American soldiers, freezing and one was seriously wounded.  They were the enemy, but they were human beings, so this woman took them in.

Soon there was another knock on the door.  There were four German soldiers, lost and hungry.  The woman invited them in, but set the rules: there would be no killing in her house on this night.  They all handed their weapons over to this woman for safekeeping.  The German and American soldiers sat down at her table and broke bread together that night.  The next morning, the Germans helped the Americans get back to their lines safely.

Christ’s coming didn’t end the war, but here were nine human beings whose lives were forever changed because of him.

This one is a story I heard on the radio years ago.  I will tell it the best I can remember it.  There were many Jewish children in Europe during World War II who were orphaned or separated from their family.  Many of them survived by staying hidden … for a very long time.  Finding food and shelter, especially in the winter was challenging and risky.  One little girl got caught outside the home of a German man and his family. I don’t remember if he was a soldier or if he was some kind of official in the Nazi party, but he had every reason to nab this child and have her sent off to the camps.  But it was Christmas Eve.  She froze in her tracks; he stood looking at her for a moment. Then he said, “It’s Christmas; go.”

One little Jewish girl lived to an old age, to tell the story of how she was saved on Christmas.

Then there was the Christmas truce of 1914.  This is one of those stories that you think sounds too good to be true.  It’s been told many times, a book has even been written about it, in an attempt to get the facts straight.  I don’t actually know if I have all the facts right, but here is the gist of it.

World War I was a hellish war.  Fighting in the trenches – I can’t even imagine what it was like.  The men who were there might have reached the breaking point, physically and psychologically, but on Christmas Eve 1914 a flash of humanity broke through.  German soldiers began singing Christmas carols from their trenches.  They wished their enemies a Merry Christmas.  Soon they all – German and British – began coming out of the trenches and moving toward one another.  They agreed among themselves (without getting permission from their commanders) that on Christmas there would be no killing, and they spent the next day celebrating together.

Peace on earth, good will toward men … of all nations, races, and creeds.

At the birth of the Christ child two thousand years ago, shepherds out in the fields nearby saw angels. And they heard the angels sing, “Glory to God in the highest and peace on earth.”

May the Prince of Peace be present in our lives, be present in our world, on this night.  And may the light and the love he brings change us forever.

These Days

 “But about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. For as the days of Noah were, so will be the coming of the Son of Man. For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day Noah entered the ark, and they knew nothing until the flood came and swept them all away, so too will be the coming of the Son of Man. Then two will be in the field; one will be taken and one will be left. Two women will be grinding meal together; one will be taken and one will be left. Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. But understand this: if the owner of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into. Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.  (Matthew 24:36-44)

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I would like to tell you a story.  It’s from a book called A Single Light, by Maia Wojciechowska.  The story takes place in Spain, but it could be anywhere.  There was a small village that had once been important but no longer was; it had once been prosperous but no longer was.  A young man in this village went off to the city to find his fortune.  He didn’t find a fortune, but he did find a wife - Maria, whom he loved very much – and he brought her home to the village. 

Soon she was pregnant, a joyful thing, and gave birth to a child – a girl.  Maria loved her child and thought her perfect.  She would say, “Look how she never cries!  Only angels never cry.  My child must be an angel.”

Within a few months everyone in the village knew what Maria couldn’t see – that the child was deaf and dumb.  She would never hear and she would never make a sound.  No one told Maria, though, because ever since the birth she had not been well.  It had taken such a toll on her body; she was in fact dying.

Before she died, she held her baby in her arms tightly.  Perhaps there was a part of her that knew the truth.  She kissed the baby and said, “You are a child of God, and God will take care of you all your life.”

After Maria’s death, her husband turned inward in his grief.  He had no love for his daughter; to him she seemed like a curse.  There was no kindness shown her from the village either, because she frightened them.  Although she couldn’t hear, she had eyes that seemed to penetrate their souls. She seemed unnatural and they shunned her.  Only one neighbor, Flora, was willing to take this helpless infant and feed her and care for her. 

When the girl became old enough, Flora put her in charge of caring for her newborn.  Flora’s baby was born weak and sickly; he was pale and seemed to not grow.  But Flora was poor, like most everyone else in the village, and she had to work.  She took the bus to the city every day to work at the canning factory.  Flora needed help her with the baby.  And she could see what no one else in the village could see – that the deaf girl could be trusted with the baby. She would love and care for the infant as if her were her own.

And so she did.  The girl was the perfect caregiver for this baby.  She knew the child’s needs before he even cried out.  She was completely devoted to the baby. 

One day the baby was even more listless than usual.  The girl sensed something was wrong from the moment she lifted the baby out of his crib.  But she held him, she tried to feed him, she did all that could be done.  By the evening the baby’s heart stopped beating.  The baby grew cold and yet the girl would not put him down.  She tried to warm him with her own body heat.  She couldn’t accept that this child was dead.

Flora didn’t blame her, but the rest of the village did, and now she was more of an outcast than ever before.  She was the focal point for all their fears and resentments, and they had so many of those.  She found refuge in the village church, where she was given bed and board and work to do.

One day while she was scrubbing the floor in the sanctuary, behind the altar, she hit a loose board in the wall.  It fell away and she noticed something hidden in there.  It was a marble statue of an infant.  She pulled it out and held it; it was about the same size as the baby boy she had cared for.  In some way, this stone baby became a comfort to the girl and she returned to it every day. She instinctively knew to keep it hidden.  It was the one solace in her life – someone she could love.

At the same time, there was a man named Larry who was an expert on art. Actually he was only an expert on one artist – an Italian sculptor named Angellini.  Larry had devoted his life to the work of Angellini, and actually, to tell the truth, he had devoted his life to one work by this one artist.  Angellini had created a marble sculpture of the holy family, which was on display at the Vatican.  It was beautiful, but the child was missing from the statue.  It had been stolen many years before and never been found.  From the moment he encountered this statue, Larry committed himself to finding the missing child.

He had researched and searched for years and years.  His research had led him to the conclusion that it had probably been taken to Spain.  And so Larry spent his days traveling around Spain, visiting every church in every village, in search of the missing marble child.

After many years, his travels took him to this village.  He walked into the sanctuary, tired before he even began, and looked around at all the second rate statuary in this poor country church.  The familiar sense of disappointment arose.  The girl was in the sanctuary going about her usual chores, ignoring him.  While he looked around, she went behind the altar and pulled out her baby from the hiding place.  This was the bright spot of her days – to hold her baby, to play with him.  Some days she would bring him little gifts – things they could play with together, or something for him to wear.  As she sat down with the baby this day, the rest of the world faded away for her; she was alone with the child in a world of bliss. 

She pulled out a little mirror she had brought him.  When you held the mirror up at different angles, you could make lovely colorful prisms on the wall. 

Larry was about to leave the church when he saw a dancing colorful light out of the corner of his eye.  He followed the light behind the altar and there he saw the girl playing with the marble child.  She didn’t see him, so she had no idea he was there.  Soon she put the baby back into his hiding place and went off.

Larry’s hands trembled as he moved in and took the baby out.  He knew it was the marble statue he had spent his life looking for.

At that point – all of the things you would fear – all these things happened.  Larry was exhilarated!  Looking for someone to share in his excitement, he went to the village bar and told all the men gathered there about his great search and his wonderful find.  Everyone immediately starting fantasizing about how this village would once more be important, how it would once more be prosperous, thanks to the finding of this famous statue.  This morning they had been ignorant of Angellini and his famous statue.  This afternoon, all kinds of plans were being made for it and the bright future it promised for them.

They quickly arranged to have a glass case made so the statue could be displayed safely in the church and they made a procession of all the important people as they carried it in and set it on the altar.

The next day as the girl went about her chores she approached the glass case and was stunned by what she saw – her precious baby imprisoned in a box.  Without thinking she crashed her hand through the glass and reached in.  Without feeling the pain, she pulled out the marble statue and held it to her body.  She ran from the church, and kept on running. 

The following morning as they prepared for mass the broken case was discovered. Unbelievable; the child had once again been stolen.  The dream of becoming wealthy and famous was only two days old, but now that dream was crushed and they were angry.  All the anger that had built up in them over the years was now exploding.  All their resentment was boiling over.  They didn’t know from whom or how but they wanted revenge.

When it was discovered the girl was missing too, a search party went out.  They didn’t even really know what their intentions were; they were driven by one motivation: rage.

On their way, the old and the weak were trampled; a shepherd boy escaped within an inch of his life, and at least one man was struck down dead.

While the mob was wreaking havoc all over the land, the priest and Larry set out together to find the girl, hoping and praying they would find her before the mob did.  For the first time, the priest could see that this girl was a gift that had been given to them – a gift they had been blind to.  For the first time, Larry could see that his obsession with the statue had alienated him from life, from the possibility of love.  They found the girl, with the marble baby.  Yet the question remains: from this day on, how will the village be ruled – by hate or by love?

The gospels tell us how we will encounter the Christ – in a variety of different ways.  But the one thing that is consistent is that it will be unexpected.  Sometimes we hear these texts as speaking to us about the end of the world – and it’s true that they are.  But it’s also true that they speak to us where we are today.  In these days – the days of our working and shopping and watching television, and going to the basketball game; in the days of our doctor appointments and our visiting with friends, our committee meetings and our worshiping – how will we meet the Christ?

The Christ does not come to us as a stone figure or a concept or a doctrine.  The Christ comes to us as living, breathing humanity – just as he always did.  How will we meet him?

The crowds met him with hate.  But I know we can do better than that.

When Will It End

Luke 21:5-19 – When some were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, he said, “As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.” They asked him, “Teacher, when will this be, and what will be the sign that this is about to take place?” And he said, “Beware that you are not led astray; for many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’ and, ‘The time is near!’ Do not go after them. “When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for these things must take place first, but the end will not follow immediately.” Then he said to them, “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and plagues; and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven. “But before all this occurs, they will arrest you and persecute you; they will hand you over to synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors because of my name. This will give you an opportunity to testify. So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict. You will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, by relatives and friends; and they will put some of you to death. You will be hated by all because of my name. But not a hair of your head will perish. By your endurance you will gain your souls.

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There are many years, I suppose, when we begin this season we might be confused by the tone that it sets.  Oftentimes, as Advent arrives and we momentarily pause from our decorating and baking and shopping and wrapping to pay attention to the season, we are thinking, “what is up with the doom and gloom?”  Some years, when we put aside the red and green and jingle bells frenzy and enter into the blue of our sanctuary, we are surprised by the hellfire and brimstone proclaimed from the pages of scripture because it seems so inappropriate for this time of the year.  Some years, it all seems too dissonant with reality.

But not this year.

Not with rioting on the streets of Ferguson, Missouri.  Not with a young boy getting shot dead by a police officer in a public park in Cleveland.  These certainly seem like the signs of something.  I know it is a clear sign of one thing:

There have been too many shootings of too many unarmed young black men for us to be complacent about. 

This is something that the African American community has already known for a long time.  It has taken longer for white America to realize it.

It has been a lively and interesting conversation that’s been going on this past week about the happenings in Ferguson.  Always interesting – never simple.

We feel that there must have been a reason for Darren Wilson to shoot Michael Brown six times, because he is a police officer sworn to protect the citizens.  And we found a reason – Darren felt threatened by Michael.  He thought Michael would kill him.  So he killed Michael.

And at the same time we were talking about this, there was the incident at the Cleveland playground where a young police officer, Timothy Loehmann, shot and killed a boy, Tamir Rice.  Tamir was 12 years old.  He was playing with a toy gun, but it looked a lot like a real gun.  Why did this happen?  Tamir looked like a threat to Timothy.  And maybe Timothy also saw Tamir as a threat to the lives of others.

It’s not all that different from another incident in our own community a few months ago.  When John Crawford was shot and killed in a Walmart by officer Sean Williams.  Why? Because he was holding a toy gun that looked very real.  Again, he looked like a threat.

I hear these stories and one of the things that springs to mind is – Can we just get rid of toy guns please?  Can kids go back to playing with sticks or tinker toys that no one (I hope!) would ever mistake for a real weapon?  Of course, that won’t happen. And even if it did, it wouldn’t solve the problem.  Because the problem is deeper than that; far deeper.  

We live in a culture of mistrust and alienation.  We live in a culture of violence, dominated by fear.  We live in a culture where we are traumatized by the amount of violence we experience everyday on the news, in our entertainment, and maybe even in our neighborhood.  Is it any wonder we react?  Is it any wonder we perpetuate the problem with more violence, more fear.

Darren saw murdering rage in Michael’s eyes, whether it was really there or not.  And Ronald, the man who called 911 from the Beavercreek Walmart, saw a crazy man waving a rifle around in the store, even though that wasn’t actually happening.  And Timothy saw a child about to shoot him, so he shot first.

And as a result we get riots all night long – with fires and looting and all kinds of destruction because people are so angry about the injustice.  Some of them are so angry they can’t be stopped. 

Even though it’s wrong; even though it doesn’t do a bit of good and does a whole lot of harm. 

It’s a mess.  But it’s not the end of the world.

Just as it wasn’t the end of the world back in first century Jerusalem, when the temple was destroyed - again.  It wasn’t the end of the world when disciples of Christ were persecuted, imprisoned, and killed, because they were seen as a threat to the powers, a threat to the status quo.  Of course, they were armed only with the gospel.  But let’s not forget how powerfully dangerous the gospel truly is.  It is.

And it wasn’t the end of the world when there were earthquakes and fires and wars, and all the loss of life that accompanies such things – because you and I and everyone else know that there always were and always will be these things in this world. So much destruction, and yet the world goes on.

There have been so many times over the past couple of millennia when people have stood in fear of the end of the world – as they look out at the mass destruction surrounding us and think that, surely, it is upon us.

And there have been so many times over the past couple of millennia when people of God have prayed for the end of the world – as they look at the same destruction and longed for something better. 

The gospel tells us – and during Advent we pay particular attention to this – that Jesus is coming with the reign of God. He is coming, and we are to be watchful and waiting in a very specific kind of way, which involves being fully present to the world around us and attending to the movement of the Holy Spirit within us.

Make up your mind not to prepare your defense in advance, he said, but listen to the guidance of the Spirit.  The wisdom I will give you is much greater than anything you could come up with on your own.  Watch, listen, and heed the Spirit.

Since the grand jury report in Ferguson, the comments I have heard in conversation and have read in the news reports and social media have been all over the map.  There is not one single narrative about what happened that day in August.  There are at least two – probably more.  I have no doubt that it is always that way when fear and violence are in control.  We would do well to ask ourselves what our response might be.

People of God – your calling is to stand back from the fear; to stand back from the hate and listen for the movement of the Spirit.  Listen to the voices of police officers who are afraid, and listen to the voices of those who are angry about injustice.  Listen especially to those who are different from you, who may have a viewpoint that is different from yours.  And don’t make up your mind about your defense ahead of time.  Listen and wait for the wisdom that comes from divine love.