Christmas Presence
December 30, 2009
December 24, 2009
Rev. Susan E. Gilbert Zencka
Frame Memorial Presbyterian Church
Texts: Revelation 21:1-4; Luke 2:1-20
As many folks do, I collect nativity sets. I haven’t been collecting long, so I don’t have so many, but I have the set that was in my father’s family when he was a child; and a beautiful olive wood set from Israel that I got years ago when I was in seminary; also a lovely small ceramic set that Tyler gave me in Mexico a few years ago; and a wonderful hand-carved set by a student we met at the Bagamoyo Sculpture School in Tanzania. As I was looking at the nativity sets recently, it occurred to me that they are a wonderful model of the some of the many ways people come to God…or more appropriately, respond to God coming to us. And since most of the characters in the nativity are found in this description of that first Christmas from Luke 2, this story could be seen as a microcosm of possible responses to God in the Christian story.
At the center of the story is, of course, Jesus – born in the night. And at the center of our own story is often something being born in us – a sense of wonder perhaps, or the sure knowledge that we are loved, or perhaps something less satisfying – a recognition of emptiness, of hunger, of desire for God or something even less focused – a desire for more: more connection, for belonging to something bigger than ourselves, for a greater groundedness in our spirits. Or maybe it is just a corner turning, and we find in the darkness that hope is born in us. Something is born in us – certainty, doubt, hope, love, or yearning. Any of these can grow and lead us in new directions that we hadn’t expected.
The shepherds are the outsiders – shepherds were not held in high esteem in the culture, although God seems to have a special place for them throughout the Bible. But in that time, they were ranked with camel drivers, sailors and butchers – gritty occupations. And they were not at home during the night to protect their women and children, so they were seen as dishonorable. And they were often regarded as thieves when they grazed the flocks on other peoples’ property. They worked at the edge of town, and functioned at the edge of the culture. Some of us think of ourselves as outsiders, too, at least where faith is concerned. And yet, glory can catch us unaware, too, as it did the shepherds. God reached out to them, in particular, and they would never see a night sky in the same way…or see themselves in the same way, either.
Angels, on the other hand, are the ultimate insiders. They’ve done everything right, they are the ones to take the messages for God. Some of us have colored inside the lines, too. We’ve excelled at doing what was expected, and we haven’t expected to be rewarded for it. We haven’t had significant doubts, and have always had a sense of God’s care – and yet, the fact that it is familiar news doesn’t change its being good news. We feel a deep responsibility to care for others as God has always cared for us, and we are grateful to participate in what God is doing in the world – so we do. Angels are a wonderful part of the Christmas story, and people who are angels have had good lives, yet have developed a faith without smugness – characterized by gratitude, with an awareness of God that is part of every day. Angels are a blessing.
Of course, the Christmas story would be incomplete if we didn’t remember the character who is never shown in the nativity – the innkeeper. And some people have no room for God in their lives either. Things are going just fine, and they don’t really need to change anything. Small wonder we don’t see these folks around the manger – they aren’t looking for wonder, or surprise, or God.
And the folks who aren’t in Luke’s version of the Christmas story, but who are in the nativity sets are the wise men. Some people do come to God through actively searching for the divine – sometimes, like the magi, they come from one tradition and then find a way that God becomes real to them in another tradition. That can happen within Christianity for folks who grow up in one tradition, say Lutheran, and then find another church, like a Presbyterian church, where faith starts to make sense for them. Or perhaps someone who has grown up Christian finds that Buddhist meditation opens up new ways of experiencing God. When we can look, as the magi did, with a spirit of openness, then we might find ourselves suddenly illuminated, perhaps not by a star, but some light that blazes a new path for us along the journey.
And of course, the parents of Jesus are important to the story, and their experience is like that of others who find themselves discovered by God. Joseph is really the unsung hero of the story in so many ways – and Luke doesn’t tell us much about him. But he’s there. Through all the drama, through the changes that this miracle brought, he’s there. He accompanies Mary, the bearer of the glory. He trusts, he stays, he walks alongside her in her experience of God. And some of us here have Joseph’s experience, too. Our own lived faith doesn’t seem to have the ups and downs of others we know – and sometimes, perhaps, we envy those experiences, but we are content to be experiencing the people who are having the experiences that we are not. It’s not that we don’t believe – we do. But we don’t seem to wrestle with God, or delight in God, as some do. Yet, we are here, and here again. And we want to be here. To see the glow of the candles warms our hearts, and we don’t want to find ourselves in the light. We are here.
And of course, Mary. We all know Mary’s story…and yet, we don’t really know what her experience was as she became the one who bore God to us all. And what we read in Luke’s story tells us that she didn’t really know what to think of her experience either. And in that, many of us may find ourselves like her. We have an experience that may be God, here or there – a shimmer, a whisper, a breath. But we don’t really know what it means, and so we keep it in our hearts, and ponder it.
And what more can we do with Christmas? We can’t pull it apart and explain it – the story isn’t told as a news report, intending to provide all the facts. God has made a home among mortals. Peace on earth, good will to all. Glory to God in the highest. Maybe that’s enough.
Merry Christmas. Amen.
Rev. Susan E. Gilbert Zencka
Frame Memorial Presbyterian Church
Texts: Revelation 21:1-4; Luke 2:1-20
As many folks do, I collect nativity sets. I haven’t been collecting long, so I don’t have so many, but I have the set that was in my father’s family when he was a child; and a beautiful olive wood set from Israel that I got years ago when I was in seminary; also a lovely small ceramic set that Tyler gave me in Mexico a few years ago; and a wonderful hand-carved set by a student we met at the Bagamoyo Sculpture School in Tanzania. As I was looking at the nativity sets recently, it occurred to me that they are a wonderful model of the some of the many ways people come to God…or more appropriately, respond to God coming to us. And since most of the characters in the nativity are found in this description of that first Christmas from Luke 2, this story could be seen as a microcosm of possible responses to God in the Christian story.
At the center of the story is, of course, Jesus – born in the night. And at the center of our own story is often something being born in us – a sense of wonder perhaps, or the sure knowledge that we are loved, or perhaps something less satisfying – a recognition of emptiness, of hunger, of desire for God or something even less focused – a desire for more: more connection, for belonging to something bigger than ourselves, for a greater groundedness in our spirits. Or maybe it is just a corner turning, and we find in the darkness that hope is born in us. Something is born in us – certainty, doubt, hope, love, or yearning. Any of these can grow and lead us in new directions that we hadn’t expected.
The shepherds are the outsiders – shepherds were not held in high esteem in the culture, although God seems to have a special place for them throughout the Bible. But in that time, they were ranked with camel drivers, sailors and butchers – gritty occupations. And they were not at home during the night to protect their women and children, so they were seen as dishonorable. And they were often regarded as thieves when they grazed the flocks on other peoples’ property. They worked at the edge of town, and functioned at the edge of the culture. Some of us think of ourselves as outsiders, too, at least where faith is concerned. And yet, glory can catch us unaware, too, as it did the shepherds. God reached out to them, in particular, and they would never see a night sky in the same way…or see themselves in the same way, either.
Angels, on the other hand, are the ultimate insiders. They’ve done everything right, they are the ones to take the messages for God. Some of us have colored inside the lines, too. We’ve excelled at doing what was expected, and we haven’t expected to be rewarded for it. We haven’t had significant doubts, and have always had a sense of God’s care – and yet, the fact that it is familiar news doesn’t change its being good news. We feel a deep responsibility to care for others as God has always cared for us, and we are grateful to participate in what God is doing in the world – so we do. Angels are a wonderful part of the Christmas story, and people who are angels have had good lives, yet have developed a faith without smugness – characterized by gratitude, with an awareness of God that is part of every day. Angels are a blessing.
Of course, the Christmas story would be incomplete if we didn’t remember the character who is never shown in the nativity – the innkeeper. And some people have no room for God in their lives either. Things are going just fine, and they don’t really need to change anything. Small wonder we don’t see these folks around the manger – they aren’t looking for wonder, or surprise, or God.
And the folks who aren’t in Luke’s version of the Christmas story, but who are in the nativity sets are the wise men. Some people do come to God through actively searching for the divine – sometimes, like the magi, they come from one tradition and then find a way that God becomes real to them in another tradition. That can happen within Christianity for folks who grow up in one tradition, say Lutheran, and then find another church, like a Presbyterian church, where faith starts to make sense for them. Or perhaps someone who has grown up Christian finds that Buddhist meditation opens up new ways of experiencing God. When we can look, as the magi did, with a spirit of openness, then we might find ourselves suddenly illuminated, perhaps not by a star, but some light that blazes a new path for us along the journey.
And of course, the parents of Jesus are important to the story, and their experience is like that of others who find themselves discovered by God. Joseph is really the unsung hero of the story in so many ways – and Luke doesn’t tell us much about him. But he’s there. Through all the drama, through the changes that this miracle brought, he’s there. He accompanies Mary, the bearer of the glory. He trusts, he stays, he walks alongside her in her experience of God. And some of us here have Joseph’s experience, too. Our own lived faith doesn’t seem to have the ups and downs of others we know – and sometimes, perhaps, we envy those experiences, but we are content to be experiencing the people who are having the experiences that we are not. It’s not that we don’t believe – we do. But we don’t seem to wrestle with God, or delight in God, as some do. Yet, we are here, and here again. And we want to be here. To see the glow of the candles warms our hearts, and we don’t want to find ourselves in the light. We are here.
And of course, Mary. We all know Mary’s story…and yet, we don’t really know what her experience was as she became the one who bore God to us all. And what we read in Luke’s story tells us that she didn’t really know what to think of her experience either. And in that, many of us may find ourselves like her. We have an experience that may be God, here or there – a shimmer, a whisper, a breath. But we don’t really know what it means, and so we keep it in our hearts, and ponder it.
And what more can we do with Christmas? We can’t pull it apart and explain it – the story isn’t told as a news report, intending to provide all the facts. God has made a home among mortals. Peace on earth, good will to all. Glory to God in the highest. Maybe that’s enough.
Merry Christmas. Amen.