Not A Silent Night

Earlier this week the Christians In Action (C.I.A.) Bible Study group began a new book entitled, Not a Silent Night: Mary
Looks Back to Bethlehem. Reflecting on the humanity of Jesus, who came to earth as a noisy, crying baby on that holy, but not so silent night, the author reflects on Mary's experience as the mother of our Lord:

As Mary learned, God doesn't promise a perfect, peaceful life or a silent, holy night. She was blessed, God-favored, and grace-filled, yet her troubles did not end. That's how life was for Mary, and that's how life is for us. Life doesn't go according to our plans. Sometimes it's hard and painful and scary. Yet, in the messiness of life, God is at work, bringing blessing out of pain. That's the message of Christmas.[1]

As we approach Christmas, these words resonate with me. Christmas is a difficult time of the year - a messy, noisy, (dare I say) crazy time. The more we try to make "perfect," the less perfect it seems to turn out. Indeed, everyone's idea of "perfect" is a little bit different. But then again, God never intended Christmas to be "perfect" or to fit any one person's plans. Instead, God came to earth incarnate. You see, the treasure we celebrate at Christmas is that God came to earth in Jesus incarnate. That means Jesus came to be one of us. Not "like" us, but one of us. Fully human. And despite what certain Christmas hymns may suggest, such humanity was and is far from silent.

Because Jesus came to earth as a baby. And babies cry. They babble, they scream, and they sing alleluias. So, we can be certain, Jesus did all these things too. Even the adult Jesus cries out in grief and in pain at pivotal points in the gospel. And so, really, I should say, people cry. People make noise.

At Christmas we celebrate that God came into our tearful and often distracting world. That God chose to take on our humanity - all our humanity - in all of its fragility, vulnerability, and yes, noisiness. To deny this would be to deny both Christ's humanity and through it the thread that connects us to Christ in his divinity and assures us of our salvation. It is such a claim to a God incarnate - a God made one of us - that makes Christianity unique.

In anticipation of Christmas Eve, the upcoming children's Christmas program, and the increased attendance and attendant bustle that such services often bring, I am struck even more by the power of the incarnation. God came to earth as a baby, as one fed and comforted by his mother. As he grew older, Jesus experimented with sound and with words, sometimes speaking too loudly. He stumbled as he learned to walk, he scraped his knees, and learned to navigate his growing limbs as an
adolescent.

Nor did the challenges stop as he grew older. Jesus caused commotion and distraction in the synagogues as he healed during worship and on the Sabbath. He stopped crowds to connect with and show mercy to the outcast. He ate with the unclean and spoke words of grace to a man so unruly that his own people had confined him to a graveyard outside of town.

"Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth," the adult Jesus says, "I have not come to bring peace, but a sword" (Matt. 10:34). But Jesus wasn't talking about going to battle or winning military victories - in fact, quite the opposite. In a society in which the military proclaimed the "Pax Romana" - the Roman peace of Caesar Augustus, won on the backs of the execution, enslavement, or imprisonment of anyone who threatened to disturb this "peace," Jesus offered a stirring alternative.

Jesus disrupted the order. He confronted the status quo. He, in his divinity, took on all the messiness and awkwardness of our humanity. So that true peace - God's peace - could be won, not through one silent night or an orderly service of worship free from distraction, but through the love and care for all God's children in the midst of the messiness and distraction that is human life.

As Jesus says in Matthew's Gospel, "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...yet, whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple-truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward" (10:37-42).

So, this Christmas, let me be very clear about one thing: as a congregation, God commands us to welcome the "little ones." God commands us to set aside our love of family...or tradition...or even "peace" in order to give these little ones the cup of salvation to drink.

When I was called to Christ the King over a year ago it was clear there was a strong emphasis on reaching out and attracting families with children and youth. This strong commitment to live into God's command, affirmed in responses to our long range planning survey, is cause to rejoice! Yet, over this past year, different understandings about how we are called to live into this command have begun to stir anxiety that affect the "peace" of our congregation, as little ones, like the Christ child, learn to navigate the volume of their voices and the awkwardness of their limbs.

Some have constructed these issues in terms of "sides" - asking me to choose and to restore the "peace." Some may even feel that I have chosen my "side" due to my family, busy as it is with young children. I have not. If there are "sides" to be had in any of this, the side that I have chosen and will continue to choose is that of Christ - God incarnate, who came to the world to bring not peace, but righteousness, in the person of a tiny, noisy baby, and who when grown has shown us the depth of God's love on the cross.

Yet, as I ponder the babe born in Bethlehem and look with hope toward the future of Christ the King, I know that we must continue to engage and wrestle with how we will live into Christ's command to welcome his little ones as a community. To help begin this conversation, I invite you to join me in a forum during the 10:00 AM Discipleship Hour on January 10, 17, & 24. There we will envision how we raise our children as disciples already now in Christ's church and with hope for their continued participation in our shared mission into the future.

In the meantime, for God's great, unexpected love, bestowed on us through Christ incarnate, let us all give thanks!

Grace and Peace,
Pr. Erik

[1] Hamilton, Adam. Not a Silent Night: Mary Looks Back to Bethlehem.