The Work of Christmas

Luke 2:22-40

When the time came for their purification according to the law of Moses, they brought Jesus 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 for seven years after her marriage, then as a widow to the age of eighty-four. She never left the temple but worshipped 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.

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Maybe you’ve seen this poem by Howard Thurman that seems, in the last few years to, appropriately, make its rounds on social media in the days after Christmas. Thurman was a Black American theologian, philosopher, writer, civil rights leader, born at the end of the 19th Century. He wrote a poem called The Work of Christmas Begins. It goes like this:

When the song of the angels is stilled,

when the star in the sky is gone,

when the kings and princes are home,

when the shepherds are back with their flocks,

the work of Christmas begins:

to find the lost,

to heal the broken,

to feed the hungry,

to release the prisoner,

to rebuild the nations,

to bring peace among the people,

to make music in the heart.

That’s a lot of work, don’t you think? It’s a reality-check, for sure. Frankly, it’s kind of a holiday buzz kill. It’s feels like a bah humbug moment, for anyone still basking in the glow of Christmas with fun plans for New Year’s Eve tonight. It makes me think of those people who already have their Christmas decorations packed up and put away. (You know who you are.)

But it makes me think of Simeon and Anna, in this morning’s Gospel for the First Sunday of Christmas, too. These sages of the synagogue who are hip to what Jesus was really all about.

This morning… the Holy Family… Jesus, Mary and Joseph, are doing their thing as faithful Jews in their day and age: it’s been eight days since his birth, so they’ve made their way to Jerusalem, for the required rituals of purification and for the baby’s dedication at the temple. They’ve brought their simple, customary sacrifice of some birds – two turtledoves or a couple of pigeons – nothing of much value, unless you’re a young, peasant couple in First Century Palestine.

And while they’re likely still tired from all of their recent travels and still shocked and surprised and trying to make sense of all that had already happened in their lives in the last week or so – those angels, that manger, the shepherds, and all the rest – and still living into what it means to be brand new parents and hopefully finding some joy in all of that … along comes this old guy in the temple, claiming to have been guided there by the Holy Spirit, saying all kinds of craziness about Jesus and to his parents; nothing altogether new that they hadn’t already heard from the angels or wondered about in Bethlehem, but still crazy, nonetheless.

Simeon wandered in off the street, looked at Jesus – this baby he’d never met – and claimed to be seeing, in him, the salvation of God … a light for revelation to the Gentiles … and glory to the people of Israel. And while all of that’s a tall order in-and-of itself, then comes the real kicker … the Howard Thurman, buzz-kill, bah humbug, reality-check, “Work of Christmas” kind of moment.

Simeon takes his eyes off of Jesus, turns his attention to the young parents, and says to Mary that her child is “destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel” and that this sweet little baby Jesus is going to “be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed” and that a sword would – somehow, someway – pierce the soul of Mary, because of it.

Merry Christmas. Happy New Year. Bah Humbug.

But seriously… This shouldn’t be news to us and may not have been all that surprising to Mary, really. She may never have been able to guess the details or predict the future of how it was all going to pan out, but Simeon was just another in a line of prophets and angels to let Mary know Jesus was destined for something big – that he was going to save his people from their sins, and whatnot.

So we have to wonder… like Mary must have wondered… what Simeon’s words announced… and what Howard Thurman’s words mean to inspire: What’s the point? What happens now? What do we do next about this “good news of great joy for all people?” What is the work of Christmas that Jesus’ birth and life meant to instigate?

Are we doing the work of Christmas if there’s still no peace in Israel and Palestine?

Are we doing the work of Christmas if God’s creation groans under the weight of our pollution and misuse?

Are we doing the work of Christmas if 44 million people in the US are food insecure?

Are we doing the work of Christmas if people of color are still imprisoned more often and for longer sentences than white people for the same crimes?

Are we doing the work of Christmas if we still spend and invest more on war than on healthcare?

Are we doing the work of Christmas if it’s all and only about the trappings and traditions we’ve created to make it all rhyme like a poem, sound like a song, sparkle like the lights on a tree, or shine like the candles we held to sing about silent, holy nights? Or about babies, tender and mild, sleeping in heavenly peace? (None of that sounds very much like the piercing sword Simeon was yapping about just eight days later in Jerusalem.)

But, speaking of candles … I didn’t come here just to rain on your New Year’s Eve parade. Howard Thurman wrote another Christmas poem that’s full of as much hope as “The Work of Christmas” is full of challenge. It goes like this:

I will light Candles this Christmas:

candles of joy despite all the sadness,

candles of hope where despair keeps watch,

candles of courage for fears ever present,

candles of peace for tempest-tossed days,

candles of grace to ease heavy burdens,

candles of love to inspire all my living,

candles that will burn all year long.

My prayer for these remaining days of Christmas, for this New Year’s Eve, and for every day of the year ahead is that we’ll be honest, deliberate, and faithful about what the work of Christmas looks like. That it’s not always clean and neat and tidy. But that it’s hard and holy a lot of the time, too. And that it’s our work to do – that it requires something of us – as recipients of and in grateful response for the gift of grace that has come in Jesus.

And that if we can’t … or when we won’t … or if we refuse … or when we don’t … we’ll at least light a candle maybe … to remind ourselves and to let others see that the work of Christmas can’t be packed up or put away; that it may never be complete on our watch; but that the light of God’s love in Jesus, always shines in the darkness of this world, and the darkness will never overcome it.

Amen. Merry Christmas. Happy New Year.

Of Whom Shall I Fear?

Matthew 10:24-39

"A disciple is not above the teacher, nor a slave above the master; it is enough for the disciple to be like the teacher, and the slave like the master. If they have called the master of the house Beelzebul, how much more will they malign those of his household! 

"So have no fear of them; for nothing is covered up that will not be uncovered, and nothing secret that will not become known. What I say to you in the dark, tell in the light; and what you hear whispered, proclaim from the housetops. Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell. Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. And even the hairs of your head are all counted. So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows. 

"Everyone therefore who acknowledges me before others, I also will acknowledge before my Father in heaven; but whoever denies me before others, I also will deny before my Father in heaven. 

"Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and one's foes will be members of one's own household. Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.

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There are any number of directions to take a message based on today’s gospel text, but what I felt most compelled to address are Jesus’ words about fear. 

The concept of fear was present to my family in several instances over a 12-hour period this week. The first example happened as I read to my children before bed. We are reading the book Woodsong by Gary Paulsen, about his experiences with sled dogs and the Iditarod race. The first couple chapters include several accounts of fear, particularly his account of a doe being chased by a pack of wolves and his story about the time he threw a stick at a bear and nearly lost his life when that bear attacked him. His writing on fear is gripping and palpable. 

Next there was the case of my child who could not fall asleep. By midnight a sobbing boy was admitting to us that the reason he could not sleep was that he was afraid of something. Perhaps out of shame or embarrassment, he initially didn’t want to tell us what he was afraid of. I tried to explain to him that the way our fears get out of control is when we fail to put words to them and keep them locked inside us. Eventually he told us what he was afraid of...and no, it wasn’t anything to do with the Gary Paulsen book we had read together (which was my first assumption). His specific fear is not important to the story, but suffice to say I think it helped for him to tell us about his fear. 

The next morning, during a family walk through the woods at Southeastway Park, my other son jumped over a large stick stretched across the path and screamed as he landed on the other side. What he noticed, while in mid-air, was that the large stick he was jumping over was actually a large snake! Not only was he terrified and shocked from the sight of a snake (an experience I know all too well and have struggled with my whole life), but now that snake was separating him from the safety of his family, as he was not about to jump over the snake again. 

In some respects, these experiences with fear are minor. Certainly there are other things in the world more terrifying than snakes or the thoughts that pop in our heads as we try to sleep. But on the other hand, fear is fear. You can’t experience only a little bit of fear. There isn’t a spectrum to fear as we feel it pulse through our bodies. And we cannot look objectively or rationalize our fear in the moment. The work of teaching ourselves how to overcome fear has to be done preemptively. 

It is tempting to think that the way to deal with fear is to avoid the experiences about which we know we are afraid. For example, my family could stop walking through the woods to avoid more snakes; much the same way that I have avoided swimming or surfing in the ocean because I’m terrified (and convinced) I would get attacked by a shark. This is far from an ideal solution. Not only does it end up limiting one’s life experiences but it’s entirely impractical to most situations. For example, I don’t think it would be in anyone’s interest for my son to avoid going to sleep ever again! 

Jesus never taught his disciples the ways of fear-avoidance. He did not comfort them with the words, “Do only what makes you comfortable, for as long as you follow me you will have a safe life.” Instead, Jesus warned his disciples that to follow him meant to make the same enemies as him, to endure the same afflictions and punishments as him, and to ultimately lose their life like him. Jesus’ command for his disciples to not be afraid is less an invitation to avoid fear than it is to run headlong into the things they think would be terrifying and have faith that God’s ultimate goodness will prevail through it all.

Jesus instructs his followers that the ones who profess to have power in the world have only the illusion of power. These illusions of power will be uncovered and exposed in the light of the gospel. Jesus says it would be right to fear only one thing: the one who wields absolute power over our soul and our body--that is, God; but even God is not to be feared because the one who wields absolute power over our soul and body will never harm us. Never ever...for we are too valuable. God is not in the business of destroying what God has created and redeemed. 

The quote “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself” doesn’t belong to Jesus, but it is a Christ-affirmed conviction nonetheless. Only fear will prevent us from following in the footsteps of the Christ. Only fear will prevent us from sharing the good news of God’s redemption of all creation. Only fear will prevent us from seeing our diverse brothers and sisters as God’s children. Only fear will prevent us from critiquing the systems and structures that diminish peoples’ livelihoods and claim their very lives. Those systems and structures do not have ultimate divinely-ordained power and therefore we should not fear them. 

The three examples of fear I mentioned earlier are not the only ways in which I have learned about fear lately. I have also gleaned much from the work of African-American professor, author, activist, and theologian Howard Thurman and his book published in 1949 titled Jesus and the Disinherited.

In his chapter on the topic of fear, he posits that fear prevents us from having a meaningful and formative answer to the question at the core of each person’s life, which is: “Who am I?” He explains, 

“There are few things more devastating than to have it burned into you that you do not count and that no provisions are made for the literal protection of your person. The threat of violence is ever present, and there is no way to determine precisely when it may come crashing down upon you...The underprivileged in any society are the victims of a perpetual war of nerves” (29).

I don’t know what it is like to be underprivileged in society. My answer to the question “Who am I?” has not been shaped by the fear of violence against me or my people. But even for the underprivileged who live assaulted by the perpetual war of nerves, Howard Thurman insists The answer to “Who am I?” has to point to God. His grandmother, who was enslaved in Florida, would recount to him the constant message from the preacher of secret religious meetings who would triumphantly proclaim, “You–you are not slaves. You are God’s children.” 

Howard Thurman goes on to write, “This [identity in God] established for them the ground of personal dignity, so that a profound sense of personal worth could absorb the fear reaction. This alone is not enough, but without it, nothing else is of value” (39-40). In other words, only after a person understands they are inherently valued and cared for by God, can they then demand, bravely, in the face of oppression, to be treated by others as a child of God…which is exactly what is happening throughout the world right now.

My friends, God commissions you to be the beautiful hands and feet of Christ that bear the good news for all people that they are God’s beloved children. As we see throughout history, and still today, too many people stand in direct opposition of this inclusive message. But do not fear in your proclamation of the good news. Nothing is more important for God’s followers today, than to be fearless. To borrow the words of Howard Thurman once more, “Nothing less than a great daring in the face of overwhelming odds can achieve the inner security in which fear cannot possibly survive” (45). 

May you be fearless in your proclamation of the good news. Amen.