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.

Weeping Rachel

Matthew 2:13-23

Now after they had left, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, “Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.” Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt, and remained there until the death of Herod. This was to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet, “Out of Egypt I have called my son.”

When Herod saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, he was infuriated, and he sent and killed all the children in and around Bethlehem who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had learned from the wise men. Then was fulfilled what had been spoken through the prophet Jeremiah:

“A voice was heard in Ramah, wailing and loud lamentation,

Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be consoled, because

they are no more.”

When Herod died, an angel of the Lord suddenly appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said, “Get up, take the child and his mother, and go to the land of Israel, for those who were seeking the child’s life are dead. Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother, and went to the land of Israel. But when he heard that Archelaus was ruling over Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. And after being warned in a dream, he went away to the district of Galilee. There he made his home in a town called Nazareth, so that what had been spoken through the prophets might be fulfilled, “He will be called a Nazorean.”

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This Gospel is always a buzz-kill when it shows up so soon after Christmas – and on New Year’s Day this time around, no less. This story of Herod’s “Slaughter of the Innocents,” as it’s known, is a fly in the ointment of our Christmas celebrations. It is a turd in our New Year’s Eve punch bowl. It is rain on our parade, all the way around. And it’s a story we might wish we would have stayed home from on the first day of 2023.

It is Matthew’s Gospel moving straight from the story of Jesus’ birth, told in just a handful of sentences that say nothing about shepherds in fields, mangers in Bethlehem, angels singing “glory to God” or “peace for those whom he favors.” In Matthew’s version of the story, Mary takes no time to ponder or treasure any of that in the glow of candlelight, like we did on Christmas Eve.

In Matthew’s version of the Christmas story, Mary and Joseph are engaged, there’s going to be a baby, his name will be Jesus – “because he’s going to save his people from their sins” – and that’s that. “That’s the tweet,” you might say, according to Matthew.

And then, some wise men show up, raise the ire of King Herod by tipping him off that this “king of the Jews” has been born, and before you know it, the first family is on the move again – on the run, suddenly – refugees to Egypt – so they can spare their son from the mass murder of children – infants and toddlers, two and under – in Joseph’s hometown. Merry Christmas! And Happy New Year!

So, in keeping with the theme…

Did you know that there’s a war going on over in Yemen that’s been raging for the last eight years? And did you know that tens of thousands of children have been orphaned there because of it? From what I can tell, the ugliness in Yemen is barely on our radar in the U.S. I suspect the reason that war doesn’t make the news, like the one in Ukraine does … the reason their president doesn’t get to speak in front of our congress … the reason their plight doesn’t make it into our consciousness is two-fold. First, because they are brown and because Yemen is the poorest country in the Middle East. And second, because smarter people than me call it all a proxy war between Saudi Arabia and Iran. We like the oil we get from Saudi Arabia and don’t want to have to pay too much for it. Anyway, all of that is another story.

Some call what’s happening in Yemen the worst humanitarian crisis in the world and it’s been going on since 2015. And it made me think of Herod’s “Slaughter of the Innocents” because in addition to all those orphans the war has created, 10,000 children have been killed or maimed, and up to two million more have been displaced – just like Jesus – since it all began.

Merry Christmas.

And did you know there were more mass shootings than there were days in 2022? (Almost twice as many mass shootings as there were days, according to one source I saw.) And did you know that this has been a true statistic every year since 2019? But, I digress. It’s Christmas and our theme today is children.

Last year, just in the United States, 3,597 children died by gunfire, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

Nearly two-thirds of gun deaths involving children — 2,279 — were homicides, which have increased by more than 73%, just since 2018. Most of these involved Black children, even though they are a numerical minority in our country. Last year, suicides made up almost 30% of gun deaths among kids, to the tune of 1,078. Unlike homicides, it’s white kids – mostly white, teenage boys – who die by suicide using guns, but that’s growing among Black and Hispanic kids, too.

One last thing. The United States is the only country among our peers – which means, supposedly, that we are “advanced” in terms of industry, technology, standard of living, and what not – we are the only country among such leading nations where gun violence is the number one cause of death among kids. In other countries like ours, kids are more likely to die from car accidents and cancer/diseases.

In the US, in 2020, 4,357 kids under the age of 19 were killed with a gun. In Australia, there were 10.

In the US, in 2020, 4,357 children under the age of 19 were killed with a gun. In the UK, there were 8.

In the US, in 2020, 4,357 boys and girls under the age of 19 were killed with a gun. In Japan, there were 5.

Merry Christmas.

But, to bring this back to something more closely related to Mary and Joseph and Jesus, on the run, remember, from Herod in Bethlehem to safety in Egypt, it’s interesting to know that nearly 130,000 migrant children entered our own government's shelter system in 2022, which was an all-time high thanks to a record number of minors who show up unaccompanied – alone – by themselves – without a parent or a protector or a guardian to claim them. That’s 8,000 more than last year – and a statistic that’s more than two months old already. Can you imagine how desperate and dangerous things much be for a child to be sent or taken to or left in a foreign land, without a parent, protector, or guardian to claim them? I know kids who won’t go to summer camp on their own or children who won’t spend the night at a friend’s house.

Merry Christmas.

We are generations away from Herod’s “Slaughter of the Innocents,” but all of this is why Matthew invokes Rachel as part of his version of the Christmas story. She weeps for the children – her own and for others, and for ours, I imagine, too.

See, when Matthew, by way of the prophet Jeremiah, invokes the notion of Rachel, weeping for her children, he was referring to the people of Israel being banished to exile and captivity in Babylon, and having to pass by the grave of Rachel, one of their matriarchs, whose grief cried out from the ground on which they traveled. That was the weeping and loud lamentation they heard at Ramah.

While God promised them hope and deliverance and salvation, in the end, much like the Good News of Christmas means to be for us now, Rachel was the mother who wouldn’t let the people forget about the children – her children, their own children, or any of God’s children for that matter. Rachel’s tears were the rain on their parade.

And I think we’re supposed to listen to Rachel, still, as we hear this hard, holy story about Herod’s slaughter of the innocents and see it happening among us, still, in so many scary, shameful, sinful ways.

Rachel is every mother weeping for her children, even while living with hope for what has come – and for what is coming – in Jesus.

Rachel is every father weeping for his children, even while searching for the joy that has been born – and that will be born again – in Jesus.

Rachel is every parent – and she would/could/should be all of us, together – weeping and wailing and refusing to let our own comfort and joy, our own silent nights, our own peace and prosperity allow us to neglect the reason for Christ’s coming, in the first place…

To bring good news of great joy to ALL people…

To save God’s people from our sins…

To shine light into the darkness in a way that the darkness cannot, has not, will not … ever … overcome it.

Amen. Merry Christmas.