Note: You can watch this teaching on CrossWalk’s YouTube channel.
As we take some time again this year to reflect on the birth of Jesus, consider the context. Israel had been under the thumb of foreign oppressors for centuries (save for a blip or two when they revolted, only to be squashed again). Around the turn of the first century BCE, the Roman Empire was fully in place and in charge. They were brutal in many respects, and the Jewish people longed for someone to lead them out of oppression into new freedom. Would God send a messiah, and anointed one, to bring about such dramatic change that would surely include a military conquest? Many surfaced, claiming to be the messiah, and were usually wiped out soon enough. In addition, the leadership of the Jewish faith was corrupted by the power and influence they were awarded by Rome to keep the peace. Reform was needed. That’s the basic historical context into which Jesus was born.
What about your context? There is a continuum that represents how we approach the birth narrative of Jesus. On one end are those who engage the story as literal, historical fact. On the other end are those that see it as fiction created to provide a clearly God-ordained beginning story for the person who would become such a powerful conduit of God’s Spirit – a truly anointed Messiah, even if not what people expected. Wherever you are on that spectrum, choose to wonder what truth is here for you today in the story, regardless of factuality. That’s where the greatest power comes from anyway. Use the song Silent Night by Pentatonix to warm you up to the story we will revisit.
Mary’s part of the story (Luke’s Gospel). In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a village in Galilee, to a virgin named Mary. She was engaged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of King David. Gabriel appeared to her and said, “Greetings, favored woman! The Lord is with you!”
Confused and disturbed, Mary tried to think what the angel could mean. “Don’t be afraid, Mary,” the angel told her, “for you have found favor with God! You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be very great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his ancestor David. And he will reign over Israel forever; his Kingdom will never end!”
Mary asked the angel, “But how can this happen? I am a virgin.”
The angel replied, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So, the baby to be born will be holy, and he will be called the Son of God. What’s more, your relative Elizabeth has become pregnant in her old age! People used to say she was barren, but she has conceived a son and is now in her sixth month. For the word of God will never fail.”
Mary responded, “I am the Lord’s servant. May everything you have said about me come true.” And then the angel left her.
What a weird story. Wouldn’t you agree? I wonder if what God was doing impacted Mary’s health: how she felt physically and emotionally. I wonder if she became more conscientious about what her lifestyle once she realized she wasn’t just looking out for her own health, but someone else’s.
We’re living in a weird story, too. We are being asked – all of humanity – to be conscientious about our physical and emotional health. And not just for ourselves, but for someone else. The physical limitations aren’t anywhere near being pregnant, but the emotional weight of what we are all experiencing is pronounced. We are not invited to give birth to a baby, but we are invited to welcome Christ into our lives anew, to make room for more of God, more life and light, more shalom – a deep peace that comes from harmony within, with each other, and with all of creation. Mary was under tremendous stress, yet God was fully with her. We are under incredible stress, yet God is with us, too, ready to be realized in new ways every day. The song Be Born In Me, performed by Francesca Battistelli invites us to reflect on the dynamics Mary endured and perhaps what we endure, too.
Joseph’s Story (Matthew’s Gospel). This is how Jesus the Messiah was born. His mother, Mary, was engaged to be married to Joseph. But before the marriage took place, while she was still a virgin, she became pregnant through the power of the Holy Spirit. Joseph, to whom she was engaged, was a righteous man and did not want to disgrace her publicly, so he decided to break the engagement quietly.
As he considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream. “Joseph, son of David,” the angel said, “do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife. For the child within her was conceived by the Holy Spirit. And she will have a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.”
All of this occurred to fulfill the Lord’s message through his prophet:
“Look! The virgin will conceive a child!
She will give birth to a son,
and they will call him Immanuel,
which means ‘God is with us.’”
When Joseph woke up, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded and took Mary as his wife. But he did not have sexual relations with her until her son was born.
What a weird story. Wouldn’t you agree? I wonder how Joseph’s life was impacted by this turn of events in any way, shape or form? I wonder if his pride was hurt in any way? I wonder if he ever felt like this was an unwelcome intruder into his life’s unfolding narrative? I wonder if he ever felt like being voluntold was unjust – why should he have to change his life, his plans? How unfair?
We are living in a weird story, too, where we may feel that our rights and freedoms are infringed upon by others. It may even feel unjust at times what we are called to do. We may assess the price we are having to pay to weather the multiple storms of 2020 as unfair. If we’re honest, we might admit that our pride has a way of eclipsing our compassion. Why should I be forced to wear a mask? Why should my business be shut down? Why should the business I want to support be shut down? Why shouldn’t I be able to gather with whoever I want? In a country that is built on radical individualism, a pandemic that calls us to radically consider the “other” is a tough medicine to take. Joseph must have felt like he got ripped off, and likely struggled from time to time with the cost he was called to bear. Yet God was present with him, helping him bring Jesus into the world and Christ’s presence into history in a new way. Reflect on Joseph’s perspective with this song, The Carol of Joseph, by For King and Country.
The Birth (Luke). At that time the Roman emperor, Augustus, decreed that a census should be taken throughout the Roman Empire. (This was the first census taken when Quirinius was governor of Syria.) All returned to their own ancestral towns to register for this census. And because Joseph was a descendant of King David, he had to go to Bethlehem in Judea, David’s ancient home. He traveled there from the village of Nazareth in Galilee. He took with him Mary, to whom he was engaged, who was now expecting a child.
And while they were there, the time came for her baby to be born. She gave birth to her firstborn son. She wrapped him snugly in strips of cloth and laid him in a manger, because there was no lodging available for them. And Joseph named him Jesus.
That night there were shepherds staying in the fields nearby, guarding their flocks of sheep. Suddenly, an angel of the Lord appeared among them, and the radiance of the Lord’s glory surrounded them. They were terrified, but the angel reassured them. “Don’t be afraid!” he said. “I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people. The Savior—yes, the Messiah, the Lord—has been born today in Bethlehem, the city of David! And you will recognize him by this sign: You will find a baby wrapped snugly in strips of cloth, lying in a manger.”
Suddenly, the angel was joined by a vast host of others—the armies of heaven—praising God and saying,
“Glory to God in highest heaven,
and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased.”
When the angels had returned to heaven, the shepherds said to each other, “Let’s go to Bethlehem! Let’s see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”
They hurried to the village and found Mary and Joseph. And there was the baby, lying in the manger. After seeing him, the shepherds told everyone what had happened and what the angel had said to them about this child. All who heard the shepherds’ story were astonished, but Mary kept all these things in her heart and thought about them often. The shepherds went back to their flocks, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen. It was just as the angel had told them.
What a weird story. Wouldn’t you agree? I wonder what fears these shepherds faced that night. They were given a job to do that night – were they terrified? Did they feel like the risk was too high? Were they in danger? What about their flocks? Would their following the orders of the angel jeopardize the safety of their flock? I wonder what went through their minds going to a cave-barn to see the heralded baby – why is this the setting for such a birth? They would surely be aware of their poverty, along with Mary and Joseph. They would be fully aware of the fact that they were poor, too poor to get a room. Poor enough to realize that the crisis of a government decision does not affect everyone equally, but as is always the case, the vulnerable pay a much greater price than everyone else. Yet God showed up even in the barn, even in the manger, proclaiming that Christ comes for all, all the time, in all places.
We’re living in a weird story where we’re seeing the gap widening between the vulnerable and less vulnerable. Storms highlight where the roof leaks, and we have been reminded that our country, as great as it is and as proud as we are to be her citizens, has a leaky roof. Some simply aren’t protected from the elements. For them, it might be easy to believe that God has left the scene. But the Christmas Story suggests otherwise – God is especially with the poor.
In contrast to the poor shepherds and the poor parents of Jesus we have a story about some rich dudes to add in as well...
The Wise Men (Matthew’s Gospel). About that time some wise men from eastern lands arrived in Jerusalem, asking, “Where is the newborn king of the Jews? We saw his star as it rose, and we have come to worship him.”
King Herod was deeply disturbed when he heard this, as was everyone in Jerusalem. He called a meeting of the leading priests and teachers of religious law and asked, “Where is the Messiah supposed to be born?”
“In Bethlehem in Judea,” they said, “for this is what the prophet wrote:
‘And you, O Bethlehem in the land of Judah,
are not least among the ruling cities of Judah,
for a ruler will come from you
who will be the shepherd for my people Israel.’”
Then Herod called for a private meeting with the wise men, and he learned from them the time when the star first appeared. Then he told them, “Go to Bethlehem and search carefully for the child. And when you find him, come back and tell me so that I can go and worship him, too!”
After this interview the wise men went their way. And the star they had seen in the east guided them to Bethlehem. It went ahead of them and stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they were filled with joy! They entered the house and saw the child with his mother, Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasure chests and gave him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
When it was time to leave, they returned to their own country by another route, for God had warned them in a dream not to return to Herod.
What a weird story! Wouldn’t you agree? I wonder what the Wise Men thought about all of this – a bunch of rich, well-educated leaders who went to honor a king, at great expense to themselves, only to have it lost and wasted on a poor peasant couple. Did they at any time feel incredulous? Or too good for the cave/stable, or for Joseph and Mary? How did their sense of privilege get in the way of their experience? I bet this experience was surreal for them. I wonder if they thought their wealth was a sign of God’s favor and blessing like so many people do, and could not imagine what this scene meant?
We’re living in a weird story, too, where we are being asked to see things differently about ourselves and everyone around us. The Wise Men did their part in welcoming Jesus and bringing Christ into the world – they honored God’s anointing with humility and generosity. They recognized that a gift had been given the world by God and they responded in kind.
The greatest character in this weird story is the one that is in every scene. The very Spirit of God through various means is everywhere – in angelic visits, dreams, choirs, and stars. The very Spirit of God is in our weird story, too. Can you perceive it? Can you appreciate that while we celebrate and honor the birth of Jesus, we are at the same time invited to allow Christ – the anointing – to be born again and again in our time? Will you welcome the gift of love and life into your life, knowing that you are loved, valued, and held?
Our final song is All Is Well, performed by Voctave. This may seem in contradiction with the reality of the weird Christmas Story and our weird story right now with all that 2020 has ushered in. This is no saccharine gloss over of denial. This is actually a bold proclamation that no matter what we face, alone or together, there is something – some One – who is greater than our suffering, who will carry us through and welcome us fully whenever we lean into it and will welcome us home when our suffering ends. There really is a peace that passes understanding, and it is witnessed in that stable, in that manger, in the whole scene and in all the characters. Christ is born. Then. Now. Forever.