Matthew 1:18-25
Tonight we celebrate the fact that the greatest Christmas present that exists is that Jesus came to be our salvation. During the season of Advent we looked at salvation not as a legal transaction to appease an angry god, but as a healed relationship. All year long we tell stories that reveal Jesus’ salvation through stories of healing individuals damaged by sin It’s no coincidence that having been announced as the one who makes God known (John 1:18), Jesus spent the vast majority of his ministry healing people. "Where ever he went - into villages, towns or countryside - they placed the sick. They begged him to let them touch even the edge of his cloak; all who touched him were healed." (Mk 6:56) Where Jesus is present, healing is going on. I believe that is still true today.
We can’t have a proper understanding of the life & ministry of Jesus without realizing that salvation means healing. When blind Bartimaeus shouts out to Jesus, asking to receive his sight, Jesus replies: "Go, your faith has healed you." (Mark 10:52). Through his healing he was saved; receiving God's salvation he was healed.
Ephesians 2:8 describes God's salvation by grace. If we replace the word "saved" by "healed" the well known verse becomes, "By grace you have been healed, through faith.” Jesus came to win our trust so that because of his gracious nature he could then heal (save) us, revealing God’s desire to heal us, not just physically, but spiritually.
When we root healing & salvation in grace everyone has the same access to them. That mattered a lot in the early church where Gentiles & Jews fought for position. It mattered in the Middle Ages when the church actually tried to sell salvation. It matters in our world when we too easily accept systems that make healing more accessible to some than to others.
During the years our family lived in Mexico bringing Christians from the U.S. to experience God’s presence among the vulnerable, there was a period when we would take groups to the garbage dump and then the Sisters of Charity orphanage in a part of Mexico City called Santa Fe. We would talk with parents raising children in the dump, facing infection and sometimes inevitable death. In the orphanage, many of the children were disabled – physically &/or mentally.
At the end of each day we would spend time reflecting on & trying to make sense of what we had witnessed that day. That was a challenging feat for people who lived in comfort. I remember one person trying to connect her worlds, which were suddenly fraying at the edges. She said, “It seems that some things are the same whether you are rich or poor. To have a sick child, to lose a child, is the same heartbreak for a parent.”
After a respectful silence in the group I asked the group if they thought it was the same. One person finally responded: “I don’t think it is. In my world when a child dies, you know that you have done everything you could for the child. You have provided the best that doctors can offer. In the dump, when a child dies, the parents know that it is because they couldn’t afford the few
pesos to buy the medicine to save him. That strikes me as a very different heartbreak.”
To pray for healing means to pray for ourselves and our own children; and it means praying for children being raised in garbage dumps, orphanages, urban homes, and for a world where we have come to believe that there is not enough healing to go around. When Jesus offers salvation, he offers healing; when he offers forgiveness he offers salvation; and he offers all three to everyone. For Jesus healing goes way beyond a cure. It’s neither easy nor cheap; but it’s available and it’s free.
Showing posts with label Christmas Eve. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christmas Eve. Show all posts
January 26, 2008
December 24, 2007 - Peace - Elizabeth Gibbs Zehnder
And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger." Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests." When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let's go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about." So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.So what does the peace that the angels are singing about, what does this peace look like? Is it like a Christmas Card?
On the Christmas cards that I get, it all looks pretty nice, stars unfurled in the balmy night sky, angels soaring and proclaiming the glad tidings. We can be easily misled into thinking that God’s peace comes when all is right with the world, children are well fed, workers earn a fair wage, all war has ceased, when all is well, then the angels will unfurl their wings and take to the heavens and our hearts will soar as we resonate with the good news that God’s peace has come….
But when I read the gospels, the peace that Jesus brings has a different tone. Yes, it resonates with my core, yes, it clearly comes from God, but it is so contrary to convention and expectation that it is difficult to recognize it.
To the woman who had been working in the sex industry, who scandalized the host of a fancy dinner party when she came in and kissed Jesus’ feet and poured out perfume on him while the grilled salmon was served – to her Jesus said “your sins are forgiven, your faith has saved you, go in peace.” (Luke 7:50)
To the woman who had been cast out for 12 years because her bleeding made her ritually unclean, when she joined the crowd and dared to reach out for Jesus’ coat. The instant her fingers touched the hem – she felt the bleeding stop, Jesus felt the power go out from him. He called her out from the crowd and assured “daughter, your faith has healed you, Go in peace.” (Luke 8:48)
To the disciples who had fled into hiding, huddled in grief, bewildered by Jesus’ arrest, terrified by his brutal death on the cross, Jesus came and stood among them and said “feel my wounds, - peace be with you” (Luke 24:36)
That’s how peace comes in the Gospels. It comes in the middle of difficulty. It comes in the middle of excruciating hope and longing, it comes when things are as far from being perfect as we can imagine. Thank God.
Thank God that we don’t have to wait for perfection for God’s peace to break into our world.
So tonight, in the glow of the candles, As we celebrate the birth of Jesus, As we carry our hope for his speedy return, let us seek out the peace that the Gospel describes.
Let us join the angels in their joyful chorus and sing the good news in the most unlikely of places:
sing to the woman whose pastor refused to bury her life partner;
sing to the day laborer waiting in the rain for work;
sing to the mother holding her feverish child in the ER;
let us find ways to sing the good news with the whole of our lives—what we say, what we do, where we spend our money—let the angels song fill our hearts:
“Glory to God in the highest, and peace to all people on earth”
January 22, 2008
December 24, 2007 - Justice - Samuel Chu
Luke 2:46-55
There is a people in Africa who believe that we humans are each created having a unique melody, some music that is our own. Their tradition “is to honor that song by singing it as welcome when a child is born, as comfort when the child is ill, in celebration when the child marries, and in affirmation and love when death comes.”
It takes a while to figure out our song, and to distinguish it from the song that others want us to sing. Imagine having a tune that is just our own; a song living in us that describes us to the world; a song that we sometimes hear the world sing back to us; a song that is there, no matter it be day or night, ready to comfort, celebrate, sustain and guide us. Imagine that and ask yourself, what’s your song?
Mary burst out with quite a song. We know it as the “Magnificat”. It is a song of jubilee and justice. It dares to see the world upside down. It sings of the fall of the proud, the powerful, the rich and the rising of the lowly, the hungry, the servant. It is the kind of revolutionary tune might get you imprisoned or even killed. And that’s why it is such an enduring song.
In the muted world we live, poor, unmarried mothers and their babies don’t stand a chance; strangers are not welcomed; the gap between rich and poor is widening rather than reversing. Out there, the sky stays dark and silent. No angels, no trumpets, no guiding star, no good news, just the cold hard facts of life.
But with Mary’s song our muted imaginations get assaulted and pushed to the limits by images, lyrics, and dangerous ideas about what can and can’t be. They fuel our imagination for a new and just world. And you can’t do justice until you can imagine a world that’s just. The Magnifcat is the kind of risky, daring song that makes justice possible and permissible.
The Hindu poet, Rabindrinath Tagore says, “I have spent my days stringing and unstringing my instrument while the song I came to sing remains unsung.” Consumed by tasks, paralyzed by facts, waiting for more data… we leave our song unsung. There is a reason why people sing when they march. It fuels them, it cuts through the cold hard facts, and it awakens the courage to act like no data can.
In light of Mary’s subversive lyrics, I think it’s fitting we let Emma Goldman, the noted anarchist, have the last words. Emma loved to dance. One evening a boy took her aside, and with a grave face whispered to her that it did not behoove an agitator to dance, certainly not with such reckless abandon anyway. It was undignified for one who was on the way to become a force in the anarchist movement.
Emma was furious and told him to mind his own business. She was tired of having the Cause constantly thrown into her face. She didn’t believe that a Cause which stood for a beautiful ideal, for release and freedom from convention and prejudice, should demand the denial of life and joy. The Cause could not expect her to become a nun and that the movement would not be turned into a cloister.
"I want freedom, the right to self-expression, everybody's right to beautiful, radiant things." She wrote, “Anarchism meant that to me, and I would live it in spite of the whole world — prisons, persecution, everything. Yes, even in spite of the condemnation of my own closest comrades I would live my beautiful ideal. If I can’t dance, I don’t want your revolution.”
Do you hear the music? Have you answer its call and join the chorus? Born to us this day is a new and just world. Sing, Dance and be a part of the revolution.
“Mary said:Everybody has a song - Nations have anthems, lovers have ballads, children have lullabies. We’ve special songs for weddings, birthdays in every culture. When you are depressed, happy, when you want to protest, when you are in the shower, you’ve got a song. That’s one reason why IPods are such popular gifts. It gives us the power to put our life to its own song track and it fuels our imaginations for life.
My soul proclaims your greatness, O, God,
And my spirit rejoices in you, my Savior.
For you have looked with favor
Upon your lowly servant,
And from this day forward
All generations will call me blessed.
For you, the Almighty, have done great things for me,
And holy is your Name.
Your mercy reaches from age to age
For those who fear you.
You have shown strength with your arm,
You have scattered the proud in their conceit,
You have deposed the mighty from their thrones
And raised the lowly to high places.
You have filled the hungry with good things,
While you have sent the rich away empty.
You have come to the aid of Israel your servant,
Mindful of your mercy –
The promise you made to our ancestors –
To Sarah and Abraham
And their descendants forever.”
There is a people in Africa who believe that we humans are each created having a unique melody, some music that is our own. Their tradition “is to honor that song by singing it as welcome when a child is born, as comfort when the child is ill, in celebration when the child marries, and in affirmation and love when death comes.”
It takes a while to figure out our song, and to distinguish it from the song that others want us to sing. Imagine having a tune that is just our own; a song living in us that describes us to the world; a song that we sometimes hear the world sing back to us; a song that is there, no matter it be day or night, ready to comfort, celebrate, sustain and guide us. Imagine that and ask yourself, what’s your song?
Mary burst out with quite a song. We know it as the “Magnificat”. It is a song of jubilee and justice. It dares to see the world upside down. It sings of the fall of the proud, the powerful, the rich and the rising of the lowly, the hungry, the servant. It is the kind of revolutionary tune might get you imprisoned or even killed. And that’s why it is such an enduring song.
In the muted world we live, poor, unmarried mothers and their babies don’t stand a chance; strangers are not welcomed; the gap between rich and poor is widening rather than reversing. Out there, the sky stays dark and silent. No angels, no trumpets, no guiding star, no good news, just the cold hard facts of life.
But with Mary’s song our muted imaginations get assaulted and pushed to the limits by images, lyrics, and dangerous ideas about what can and can’t be. They fuel our imagination for a new and just world. And you can’t do justice until you can imagine a world that’s just. The Magnifcat is the kind of risky, daring song that makes justice possible and permissible.
The Hindu poet, Rabindrinath Tagore says, “I have spent my days stringing and unstringing my instrument while the song I came to sing remains unsung.” Consumed by tasks, paralyzed by facts, waiting for more data… we leave our song unsung. There is a reason why people sing when they march. It fuels them, it cuts through the cold hard facts, and it awakens the courage to act like no data can.
In light of Mary’s subversive lyrics, I think it’s fitting we let Emma Goldman, the noted anarchist, have the last words. Emma loved to dance. One evening a boy took her aside, and with a grave face whispered to her that it did not behoove an agitator to dance, certainly not with such reckless abandon anyway. It was undignified for one who was on the way to become a force in the anarchist movement.
Emma was furious and told him to mind his own business. She was tired of having the Cause constantly thrown into her face. She didn’t believe that a Cause which stood for a beautiful ideal, for release and freedom from convention and prejudice, should demand the denial of life and joy. The Cause could not expect her to become a nun and that the movement would not be turned into a cloister.
"I want freedom, the right to self-expression, everybody's right to beautiful, radiant things." She wrote, “Anarchism meant that to me, and I would live it in spite of the whole world — prisons, persecution, everything. Yes, even in spite of the condemnation of my own closest comrades I would live my beautiful ideal. If I can’t dance, I don’t want your revolution.”
Do you hear the music? Have you answer its call and join the chorus? Born to us this day is a new and just world. Sing, Dance and be a part of the revolution.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
