Monday, December 19, 2005

The message comes to the outsiders

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 those on whom his favor rests. (Luke 2:8-14, NIV)
It's Monday of Christmas week...and echoing in my mind is a lesson that recurs in my mind every year at this time. It's a powerful lesson I learned about shepherds nearly 8 years ago, in one of my first ministry classes. Some who have listened to me for a while have heard this before...feel free to tune out. But I think it's an image that bears repeating...

I think it's especially important to repeat the image now...when a great deal of what society sees as "Christianity" comes down to pseudo-righteous people pointing fingers at other groups, and yelling "You're a sinner! You'd better repent or you're going to Hell!"

As if we all weren't sinners...as if, somehow, there were people who somehow didn't have lifestyles that were unacceptable to God in some way...

It's particularly appropriate to talk about this in connection with this passage of Scripture, too. You see, in Biblical times, shepherds were considered some of the most distrusted, dishonorable, dishonest, and lowly people of all the world. Listen to what professor of ministry Donald Messer says about shepherds:
Far from being a noble profession, the job of shepherd in first-century Palestine was one of the most despised trades, along with gamblers, usurers, and publicans. Contrary to our romantic images, shepherds were generally considered to be thieves. Far from being viewed as reliable and responsible, they were habitually known to graze on other people's lands and to pilfer the produce of the herd. Their social and religious status would not be much higher than pimps and drug pushers in our day. They, like the publicans and tax collectors, therefore, were deprived of their civil rights. They could not fulfill a judicial office or be witnesses in a court. It was forbidden to buy wool, milk, or a kid from a shepherd - because it was widely assumed that it would be stolen property. One ancient writing reports that 'no position in the world is so despised as that of the shepherd.'" (Donald Messer, Contemporary Images of Christian Ministry (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1989), page 172.)
Yet Luke reports that the first ones to hear of Jesus' birth were shepherds - among the most despised people in the New Testament world! Can you imagine their shock - to find out they were the first ones to be eye-witnesses of God's majesty? And can you imagine the people they talked to afterwards? No wonder Luke writes that everyone who heard of Jesus' birth from the shepherds "wondered at the things told them by the shepherds"!

When you read it that way, it's not a very pretty scene, is it?

No, it's not. And it's not meant to be.
God didn't mean it to be pretty. God meant it to be real.

Let's put it in today's words. Jesus could have come as a triumphant warrior-king, bristling with power, to smite the evil and establish a kingdom built on power. But that wasn't God's plan at all. There was no royalty, no engraved invitations for the rich and mighty to the arrival of God's son. Instead, there was an obscure town of Bethlehem, in the filthy corner of a barn, in a feed trough, where a confused carpenter was witness to the birth of God's son to his teen-aged wife-to-be. Wonder with me at how the despised and lowly men tending sheep felt as angels from Heaven give them the telegram: "...Born to you this day is a Savior, which is Christ the Lord." The news of God's son had come - not to those who felt they deserved to hear, sitting comfortably at the Temple - but to those who needed the news most! Creatures who thought that their sins had left them without a prayer were the ones who found that the salvation of the world had come first to them!

And what does it say of the one who becomes "the Good Shepherd"? Messer points out that this oxymoron is the equivalent to saying "I am the the Good Homosexual" to the religious right, or "I am the Good Fundamentalist" to the gay & lesbian community, or like saying "I am the Good Terrorist" - because in those days, shepherds were just that despised. Messer writes, "It is no wonder that after Jesus called himself 'the Good Shepherd' the Gospel of John reports, 'there was again a division among the Jews because of these words (John 10:19)" (page 173). Jesus identified with the lowly, and with the despised - and yet turned that despising description on its head, transforming the label as he did everything else he touched.

In these days of insanity - when businesses are encouraged to "keep the 'Christ' in Christmas" so they won't get boycotted - it's important not to lose the amazement and wonder of those who witnessed the birth of our Savior. And let me never forget that if God could be present and "with them" in the mess of the stable, surrounded by the disreputable and untouchable ones of that time, then God can and is surely with me, during the messes of my life, and when I feel unworthy and apart from the rest of the world.

It is in the most impossible of my own times and situations that I have to remember the amazingly unlikely people and places that were part of the story of God's arrival on earth. And I also remember that I am the unlikely - and undeserving - recipient of the gift of grace brought by Jesus to the world. May I continue to stand by the manger in wonder at the astonishing love of God for you, and for me!

3 comments:

Michael said...

From the beginning, we have tried to clean up after God's mistake in the Incarnation. Some of us claimed Jesus could not have been a real man (that would be unthinkable -- piss and shit and ewww! --, so we said he just appeared to be a man. Although that notion was condemned by the church, many of us still believe it at some level. As a nun friend told me, "It is God-in-a-man-suit christology." Then we tried to say he was a creature, but not a creature like us. Then we said he had no human personality. Then we tried saying he had no human will. And on and on and on. Scripture (Hebrews chapters 2 and 4) goes so far as to say he was tempted like us, but we explain that away by saying he was only externally tempted: he saw the chocolates but didn't really want them.

The temptation to clean up God's mistake keeps coming back -- we will make Jesus sweet and blond, Aryan or Italian, God-knows-straight, whatever. We will picture him in spotless white or regal reds. We will surround him with cherubs and adoring women and children gazing at him while he looks off into the distance. We will obsess about his physical pain while ignoring the pain we inflict on his people. We will claim his support for our homphobia or our social liberalism. Whatever we do, we won't let him be human. WE porject our distorted ideals onto him, and worship that projection, bowing down before the golden calf of our own making. It must be God; it's so shiny!

Yes, God, beoming human sounded like a good idea. But then, wouldn't we have to live and find you in our own human experience? How could God be here with the misfits, the drunks, the addicts, the fags, the rednecks, the Republicans and the tree-huggers?

People talk of the scandal of the cross. It is only part of the scandal of the incarnation, and we keep tripping over it in every generation.

Thanks for the reflection. And don't even get me started on sheep!

AnotherLostAngel said...

Steve;

I am saddened imagining you freezing in your porous apartment as the coldest days of the year decend upon us. I think of you bundling up and trundling down to the train station, freezing as you wait on the kennsington....many years I rode that train downtown in the harsh winters...Yesterday I was out for less than 15 minutes with no hat or gloves....at first I was like "what's the big deal?" and after a few short minutes I was like "holy f*ck!!!" It was cold. At least you grew up on the great plains, where I know winter is harsh...so you are genetically programed to survive....

I struggle greatly with the concept of redemption. My sins, my evils, my character defects....whatever you call them...I am always aware of them...and when I do them, I am usually aware I am not doing the right thing...there is some selfish, usually viseral pleasure involved in doing them....acts I am driven to, urges...and when I finally come out of it, I feel deep guilt...sorrow....sadness....remorse....sorry that I did it and then a sincere desire but also vague hope that I won't do it again. But is that just guilt, self-disgust, or true repetence? If you repent, aren't you saying "please forgive me, I am so sorry I did this, I know I was wrong!!I will not do it again!!" Is that valid or real if you DO do it again? If even as you are "repenting" a part of you knows you will do it again, because if you had the ability to stop or restrain yourself, you would not hae been there in the first place? If the sins are actions you seem to have no control over, urges, addictive behaviors, and all your will seems to avail you nothing, and you try so hard and stll fall again, is there any real repetence? Real step 6 and 7 stuff here, as well as step 1-3...but not sure how it fits into theology or spiritual thinking.....and of course, I always struggle with the "it's addictive behavior, it's a compulsion, it's beyond my control, it's a cumpulsion I need lifted by a higher power" vs. an equally strong little voice saying "Bullshit! You could stop any time you want, you just dont want to bad enough. You're weak, you want it both ways. If you were serious about quiting, if you were truly as deeply saddened and disgusted as you say you are, you would just stop. Period."

So as usual, I'm lost.

"...and you read your Emily Dickenson...and I my Robert Frost...Can analysis be worthwhile? Is the theatre really lost?"

Happy Tuesday, bro...Thanks again for your help.

Peter

~m2~ said...

It is in the most impossible of my own times and situations that I have to remember the amazingly unlikely people and places that were part of the story of God's arrival on earth.

is it not true to this day that the most unlikely are the ones who still feel He is with us?

(i am one of your favorite lurkers, aren't i??)

~peace & many blessings in '06~