Important people from all over the Empire file into the Palace for the festivities. All the members of the Senate, magistrates and other officials, wealthy personages and diplomats, enter by invitation for the official showing of the Emperor's new son. He is fitted with royal finery and placed in a kind of mini-throne graced by precious metals and stones. He is being officially named and welcomed as an heir of one who is hailed not only as political leader but also as deity.
From that scenario two millenia back, we look at tonight's gospel pericope [Luke 2: 1-20] for a tale about the birth of another royal personage. Here the action is not in the palace but in a barn. The newborn King lies in an animal feeding trough and wears, not royal apparel, but swathing bands of cheap cloth. He is not greeted by the rich and famous, but rather by outcasts, nobodies. Shepherds, namely, who were considered near the bottom rung of society and to be avoided by respectable folk.
The story, like all our stories, is intended to teach us something about God. Christians are often criticized for being out of touch with reality, for opposing science. In our tradition, nothing could be further from the truth. We don't try to explain, or explain away, the Big Bang or evolution. Those are science questions. But, as Stephen Hawking said, science cannot and will never be able to explain why the Big Bang happened, or who or what preceded it. In other words, science is in the "how" business. We are in the "why" business. We say that is in the nature of God to create and to care about the creation. We believe that God loves all of God's children equally, and that we are called with our lives and labours to witness to that reality.
Let us analogize to parenthood. Many here are parents; others one day will be. Although only human, we surely want what is best for every child, especially to have that a life that is decent, fulfilling, and makes a difference in the world. Would we want one of our children to live well, whilst knowing that another was starving to death? Would we be happy knowing that some of our children were killing others? Would we be satisfied if we knew none of our children would ever share with the others? No, none of that is tolerable for us, and all of it is surely intolerable to God.
We must hurt with the things that hurt the heart of God and struggle to work for the best outcomes throughout humanity.
Tonight's birth announcement is earth-shattering because the one who has come, the incarnation of the Divine, represents the ultimate sign that God cares, that we matter, and that what we do to each other means everything. This child will grow up to call us to full humanity -- to be all that we are capable of being -- by the radical reordering of human priorities. Like good parents, the key to development is involvement. Jesus means God cares enough to be involved, to show us in Jesus the human face of God, to show us how to live and love rightly, how to inaugurate God's Reign by our working to create a world in which God's will is done on earth as it is in heaven. Christmas means God cares and what we do matters, that life has real meaning. It is Word that we can move beyond our selfishness, narcissism, and tribalism and build the Kingdom. Happy Christmas!
Tuesday, December 25, 2018
Monday, December 24, 2018
Advent IV: Mary, Revolutionary
In our the early years of our nation, Congress voted on whether to make our church the State Church. We would have been the Church of the United States. Thanks be to God, that vote failed, and soon a first amendment to the Constitution created what Thomas Jefferson called a "high wall of separation" between church and state. The government cannot interfere with religion, nor promote religion, nor favour one religion over another. Every citizen to free to worship according to conscience, or not to worship at all, without interference. That was a novel concept when introduced.
Religion and politics were inseparable in the ancient world. Political leaders had ceremonial religious functions and often held religious office. The Roman Emperor was High Priest, divine being, political authority all wrapped into one. The early Christians appropriated to Jesus all of the titles that had been accorded Caesar: Divi Filius (Son of the Divine, Son of God), Salvator (the Saviour), Redemptor (Redeemer), Princeps Pacis (Prince of Peace), Pontifex Maximus (Supreme Bridge Builder, High Priest). In other words, Christ was a nonviolent alternate king who resisted Roman imperialism and the Empire's cultural assumptions and false values.
That's tells us something of the context of Mary's song we recited today [Luke 11: 46-55]. Scholars now believe -- and I concur -- that Jesus was born in the year 4 BCE. That is a poignant fact, for it was in that year that Herod the Great died. That event triggered Jewish revolutionary activity over a wide area. Syrian legions (directed by the Roman government) crushed all resistance. For example, the city of Sepphoris -- five clicks from where Jesus lived, and where he and his dad likely did a lot of carpentry work -- was destroyed. The Syrians boldly raped, killed, and enslaved all resisters. Mary and Joseph, and Zechariah and Elizabeth, would have witnessed those horrors. No wonder Jews were praying for divine intervention.
In Mary's song she recaps some themes that are important to the Lucan agenda. We glean that, like Mary, we must each be Theotokos, a God-bearer to the world in which we live. We look to a "New Israel" based not on ancestral heritage but on faithful response to God's calling. And Mary tells us the importance of becoming "reversers," called to turn the world and its fake values upside down. Indeed, in the Magnificat, Mary is a revolutionary. Using proleptic speech, she tells us that God desires a reordering of public priorities -- pulling down the rich and mighty and lifting up the also-rans, the marginalized, and the oppressed. Maybe even those of us who struggle just to feed kids, pay bills, and afford health insurance. Maybe the unemployed and underemployed, and those in struggle to live on minimum wage. Seniors caught by cancelled pensions, inflation, and threats of reducing social security and medicare. People struggling against hatred and bigotry, seeking a fair chance in life. Students battling to manage stifling education loans set at high rates of interest.
Our Lady seems to be saying, imagine what the world would be like with my Son on Augustus' throne, bringing justice and peace. We could ask what our world would be like if Jesus were in the White House. Do you think things would look any different?
Christmas is almost here, to remind us one more time of our call to be social revolutionaries like Mary; to work for God's Reign on earth; to call our society, culture, and religions, to get serious about the divine agenda with which we have been tasked. To make love of God and neighbour a reality in our world.
Religion and politics were inseparable in the ancient world. Political leaders had ceremonial religious functions and often held religious office. The Roman Emperor was High Priest, divine being, political authority all wrapped into one. The early Christians appropriated to Jesus all of the titles that had been accorded Caesar: Divi Filius (Son of the Divine, Son of God), Salvator (the Saviour), Redemptor (Redeemer), Princeps Pacis (Prince of Peace), Pontifex Maximus (Supreme Bridge Builder, High Priest). In other words, Christ was a nonviolent alternate king who resisted Roman imperialism and the Empire's cultural assumptions and false values.
That's tells us something of the context of Mary's song we recited today [Luke 11: 46-55]. Scholars now believe -- and I concur -- that Jesus was born in the year 4 BCE. That is a poignant fact, for it was in that year that Herod the Great died. That event triggered Jewish revolutionary activity over a wide area. Syrian legions (directed by the Roman government) crushed all resistance. For example, the city of Sepphoris -- five clicks from where Jesus lived, and where he and his dad likely did a lot of carpentry work -- was destroyed. The Syrians boldly raped, killed, and enslaved all resisters. Mary and Joseph, and Zechariah and Elizabeth, would have witnessed those horrors. No wonder Jews were praying for divine intervention.
In Mary's song she recaps some themes that are important to the Lucan agenda. We glean that, like Mary, we must each be Theotokos, a God-bearer to the world in which we live. We look to a "New Israel" based not on ancestral heritage but on faithful response to God's calling. And Mary tells us the importance of becoming "reversers," called to turn the world and its fake values upside down. Indeed, in the Magnificat, Mary is a revolutionary. Using proleptic speech, she tells us that God desires a reordering of public priorities -- pulling down the rich and mighty and lifting up the also-rans, the marginalized, and the oppressed. Maybe even those of us who struggle just to feed kids, pay bills, and afford health insurance. Maybe the unemployed and underemployed, and those in struggle to live on minimum wage. Seniors caught by cancelled pensions, inflation, and threats of reducing social security and medicare. People struggling against hatred and bigotry, seeking a fair chance in life. Students battling to manage stifling education loans set at high rates of interest.
Our Lady seems to be saying, imagine what the world would be like with my Son on Augustus' throne, bringing justice and peace. We could ask what our world would be like if Jesus were in the White House. Do you think things would look any different?
Christmas is almost here, to remind us one more time of our call to be social revolutionaries like Mary; to work for God's Reign on earth; to call our society, culture, and religions, to get serious about the divine agenda with which we have been tasked. To make love of God and neighbour a reality in our world.
Sunday, December 16, 2018
Gaudete Sunday: DB and JB
Father Philip Berrigan wrote: "The poor tell us who we are. The prophets tell us who we can be. So we hide the poor and kill the prophets." Father Phil was himself a prophetic figure. Born in New York, after high school he went to work on a railway, then joined the U.S. Army in World War II, and served in the Battle of the Bulge, which began on this date in 1944. After the war he discerned a call to Priesthood, went to seminary and became a Roman priest. He quickly established a reputation for activism. The Church kept moving him around and he kept doing remarkable things, like founding the Catholic Peace Fellowship and organizing lobbying efforts for the poor. After the American invasion of Vietnam he became an outspoken opponent of what he called an unjust war. For that, he was beaten and imprisoned repeatedly and gladly, for the Gospel's sake.
After the U.S. withdrawal from that country, he devoted his life to opposing nuclear proliferation, a development that could have -- and still could -- destroy the human race. Surprisingly, Father died of cancer before he could be killed. But we look at his life as an excellent example of telling truth to power, both to his Communion and to his country.
John the Baptiser, the feature of our Gospel reading today, also spoke truth to power in the religious and political establishment, but in his case it cost him his life. John knocks the props out from under his culture's favourite excuses for not getting real with God. First, he attacks inherited religion. In his view, that doesn't count unless it relates to how you live your life. Second, spiritual or sentimental feelings that ignore the real-life needs of others are bogus. Third, passing on ethics, in order to get by is religious treason. In their place, we must have real repentance that leads to action in our relationships. He tells people how to live. Everybody is to give their second coat to the poor, to share their food. Tax agents are to collect what is actually due. Soldiers are to avoid extortion. And, as well know, all of that simply boils down to implementing the Golden Rule.
I fear that many in our culture have psychologized their faith. The Gospel is just a feeling, not a call to build the Kingdom. And the Kingdom is just a mood. And the Messiah is just our mascot who can be pressed into service to affirm our political and cultural false values, instead of transforming us. We do not need a mascot. We need a Saviour.
After the U.S. withdrawal from that country, he devoted his life to opposing nuclear proliferation, a development that could have -- and still could -- destroy the human race. Surprisingly, Father died of cancer before he could be killed. But we look at his life as an excellent example of telling truth to power, both to his Communion and to his country.
John the Baptiser, the feature of our Gospel reading today, also spoke truth to power in the religious and political establishment, but in his case it cost him his life. John knocks the props out from under his culture's favourite excuses for not getting real with God. First, he attacks inherited religion. In his view, that doesn't count unless it relates to how you live your life. Second, spiritual or sentimental feelings that ignore the real-life needs of others are bogus. Third, passing on ethics, in order to get by is religious treason. In their place, we must have real repentance that leads to action in our relationships. He tells people how to live. Everybody is to give their second coat to the poor, to share their food. Tax agents are to collect what is actually due. Soldiers are to avoid extortion. And, as well know, all of that simply boils down to implementing the Golden Rule.
I fear that many in our culture have psychologized their faith. The Gospel is just a feeling, not a call to build the Kingdom. And the Kingdom is just a mood. And the Messiah is just our mascot who can be pressed into service to affirm our political and cultural false values, instead of transforming us. We do not need a mascot. We need a Saviour.
Sunday, December 9, 2018
Advent II: Before and After
We spend a lot of our time waiting, don't we? In today's Jewish scripture reading [Baruch 5: 1-9] we are reminded of the Babylonian Exile. In 587, the forces of Babylonia decimated Jerusalem and took captives to be deported to Babylonia. Some Jews fled north to become part of what we call Samaria. Others fled to Egypt, and some remained behind; the Babylonians prioritized the well-educated and most skilled people. Fortunately that included priests and others who could give encouragement and instruction to the people. Upon arrival, the Jews not only had to deal with the theological issues surrounding loss of nation under a God with whom they were in covenant. They also had to deal with inability to travel to the Temple for required worship and sacrifice. So they invented the synagogue and became "people of the Book," as their worship quickly began to focus on reading.
At the same time they wrote the seven books sometimes called "Apocrypha," always accepted by Catholic Christians but later rejected by protestants. The Jews thus adapted until 539 when the Persian king Cyrus defeated the troops of Babylon and released the exiles to go home. Baruch, who has first admonished his readers to remain faithful to their religion and avoid assimilation, now presents this beautiful image of Mother Jerusalem standing on the heights and watching her beloved children marching home again! What a beautiful image of looking back and also forward.
Another, later example was the daughter of Constantine who called for a large piece of Jesus' cross to be delivered to her and she built a church in Jerusalem, Basilica of the Holy Cross, around it. She said that relic made possible a church that could truly look backward to its roots and forward to its future.
Advent is like that. We quietly prepare to celebrate again the Gift of God at Christmas, but also looking forward to our future, as individuals and community. Congregational elections come up next month and this is a perfect time for us to reflect on our gifts and skills and prayerfully ponder where the Spirit may be leading each of us.
At the same time they wrote the seven books sometimes called "Apocrypha," always accepted by Catholic Christians but later rejected by protestants. The Jews thus adapted until 539 when the Persian king Cyrus defeated the troops of Babylon and released the exiles to go home. Baruch, who has first admonished his readers to remain faithful to their religion and avoid assimilation, now presents this beautiful image of Mother Jerusalem standing on the heights and watching her beloved children marching home again! What a beautiful image of looking back and also forward.
Another, later example was the daughter of Constantine who called for a large piece of Jesus' cross to be delivered to her and she built a church in Jerusalem, Basilica of the Holy Cross, around it. She said that relic made possible a church that could truly look backward to its roots and forward to its future.
Advent is like that. We quietly prepare to celebrate again the Gift of God at Christmas, but also looking forward to our future, as individuals and community. Congregational elections come up next month and this is a perfect time for us to reflect on our gifts and skills and prayerfully ponder where the Spirit may be leading each of us.
Tuesday, December 4, 2018
Artwork or idol?
The Saint-du-jour is named John of Damascus. He was son of the Christian tax agent for the Muslim Caliph of Damascus. (Throughout history, Muslim rulers have generally been tolerant of other religions, unlike many of their Christian counterparts.) John succeeded him in that prestigious post. In time, John desired to know more about his faith, and entered the St. Saba Monastery for study and Christian formation. He went on to be ordained a priest in 726, the same year that the Byzantine Emperor issued a decree against Holy Images, triggering a major controversy. At issue was the question whether artistic forms such as crucifixes, statues and other carvings, paintings, or murals constituted idols. Answering in the affirmative, the emperor ordered the destruction of all Christian art. John wrote three treatises against the iconoclasts {lit. image smashers) and in favour of Christian art. He pointed out that images do not represent either false gods, or even God in God's divine nature, but only saints, or our Lord as a man. He distinguished between veneration and worship, which can be properly given only to God.
The iconoclastic movement was really rooted in the long-discredited, but not fully abandoned, heresy called Monophysitism, which held that Jesus only appeared to be human but actually had only one nature, divinity. If he was not human, then an image depicting him would be inappropriate. It was also related to Manichaeism, another heresy which held that matter itself is evil. Either of these discredited theological teachings, John wrote, denies the Incarnation, the central truth of our faith.
Finally, the last valid ecumenical council, which was held in 787, settled the controversy, decreeing that crosses, icons, and other sacred objects -- indeed Christian art in general -- was appropriate and acceptable for veneration, because the honour paid to them passed on to what they represented.
The religion in which I was raised obviously didn't get the memo, because they were keen to spread the falsehood that Roman, Episcopal, and Orthodox Christians worship idols. Nothing could be farther from the truth! In fact, as we have seen, the matter was settled long, long ago.
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The iconoclastic movement was really rooted in the long-discredited, but not fully abandoned, heresy called Monophysitism, which held that Jesus only appeared to be human but actually had only one nature, divinity. If he was not human, then an image depicting him would be inappropriate. It was also related to Manichaeism, another heresy which held that matter itself is evil. Either of these discredited theological teachings, John wrote, denies the Incarnation, the central truth of our faith.
Finally, the last valid ecumenical council, which was held in 787, settled the controversy, decreeing that crosses, icons, and other sacred objects -- indeed Christian art in general -- was appropriate and acceptable for veneration, because the honour paid to them passed on to what they represented.
The religion in which I was raised obviously didn't get the memo, because they were keen to spread the falsehood that Roman, Episcopal, and Orthodox Christians worship idols. Nothing could be farther from the truth! In fact, as we have seen, the matter was settled long, long ago.
.
Sunday, December 2, 2018
Advent I: Waiting
In 1966 a new musical debuted called "Auntie Mame." Mame was a bohemian, liberated woman who danced to a different drummer and liked to challenge convention. She had an entourage of her own, supporting her lifestyle. And all went well until Patrick, her deceased brother's ten-year-old son, arrived to live with her. He became a foil, testing her. At one point, Mame announces that she intends to decorate for Christmas early. Patrick replies, "Auntie Mame, it is only one week past Thanksgiving Day!"
You know where I am going with this. In our culture, the decorations appear on shop shelves well before Thanksgiving. The hardware often shows up in August. The twelve days of Christmas are sometimes said to end on Christmas Day (when, in fact, the twelve days start on Christmas Eve, ending at the Epiphany.) There are festive "countdowns to Christmas" and Hallmark television programs that span many weeks. Christmas hymns are played and sung months in advance.
What all this is symptomatic of is America's infatuation with instant gratification. We cannot wait for anything. I want Christmas and I want it now! And the marketing world responds accordingly by distorting Christmas to a protracted period. Everything must bow down before the Almighty Dollar and the world of consumerism.
Sometimes, obviously, waiting is hard. In Jesus' time people lived on the edge of their seats. At any time God would solve the world's problem by bringing in God's Kingdom, the Divine Reign, not through us but around us. And that inbreaking of a perfect world be accompanied by amazing cosmic fireworks and special effects. Apparently Jesus shared in that common Jewish expectation of a soon, sudden, and spectacular end to the world as it had been known. [viz. Luke 31: 25-36] He even told a crowd that some of them would not die before the End.. However, elsewhere in Scripture that view is gone and he assures his disciples that no one -- not even he -- knows when the Reign of God may come. But we do know now that it will come when we get off our duffs and change the world.
So where does that leave us? Waiting.. Perhaps you will remember the phrase from Carly Simon's song, Anticipation, in which she sings, "We can never know about the days to come. We think about them in many ways." Yes, we do live in uncertainty but also in expectancy, because we wait, not in passivity or anxiety or fear -- as our culture does -- but rather in faith, confidence, and joyful preparation to celebrate again the birth of the Saviour. We trust that in our lives and mission God is both companion on our journey, and our destination. Thus, we know this Advent season that the one we await and will celebrate once again is Emmanu-El, "God is with us."
You know where I am going with this. In our culture, the decorations appear on shop shelves well before Thanksgiving. The hardware often shows up in August. The twelve days of Christmas are sometimes said to end on Christmas Day (when, in fact, the twelve days start on Christmas Eve, ending at the Epiphany.) There are festive "countdowns to Christmas" and Hallmark television programs that span many weeks. Christmas hymns are played and sung months in advance.
What all this is symptomatic of is America's infatuation with instant gratification. We cannot wait for anything. I want Christmas and I want it now! And the marketing world responds accordingly by distorting Christmas to a protracted period. Everything must bow down before the Almighty Dollar and the world of consumerism.
Sometimes, obviously, waiting is hard. In Jesus' time people lived on the edge of their seats. At any time God would solve the world's problem by bringing in God's Kingdom, the Divine Reign, not through us but around us. And that inbreaking of a perfect world be accompanied by amazing cosmic fireworks and special effects. Apparently Jesus shared in that common Jewish expectation of a soon, sudden, and spectacular end to the world as it had been known. [viz. Luke 31: 25-36] He even told a crowd that some of them would not die before the End.. However, elsewhere in Scripture that view is gone and he assures his disciples that no one -- not even he -- knows when the Reign of God may come. But we do know now that it will come when we get off our duffs and change the world.
So where does that leave us? Waiting.. Perhaps you will remember the phrase from Carly Simon's song, Anticipation, in which she sings, "We can never know about the days to come. We think about them in many ways." Yes, we do live in uncertainty but also in expectancy, because we wait, not in passivity or anxiety or fear -- as our culture does -- but rather in faith, confidence, and joyful preparation to celebrate again the birth of the Saviour. We trust that in our lives and mission God is both companion on our journey, and our destination. Thus, we know this Advent season that the one we await and will celebrate once again is Emmanu-El, "God is with us."
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