The giant winter storm sweeping across the country has disrupted folk’s travel plans, disrupted power… disrupted… it would seem… Christmas.
Here in the church, we had all five bulletins printed ahead of schedule,
our secretary and her family had headed out for vacation.
It seemed like we had things in order…
I’d even had time to send a thank you note to the Synod for the Fund for Mission Grant that paid for three ministries here at Spruce Run…
Then folk started to come down with Covid,
this included both our Bell Choir Director and our Director of Music.
We had to do a sort of Musical Chairs with Ushers,
Assisting Ministers,
the whole works.
These last minute audibles are one more example of how we’ve had to do things these days
—and I’m not just talking about the Church,
but our lives in general:
“Hold all plans loosely, and be ready to pivot.”
An attitude that can be exhilarating in small bursts…
but three years in…
it’s getting heavy.
So heavy that the basic Christmas message:
“Jesus turns the world upside down! Disrupts the status quo.”
might feel like bad news,
instead of good news…
We’ve been turned upside down enough…
we’ve held our plans so loosely we’ve lost ‘em,
and pivoting yet again feels like the spinning of a helicopter rotor.
Whenever any new disruption erupts, all we can say is, “Oh no, not again.”
And we’re not alone in this…
the Holy family had their lives turned upside down because
the powers that be decreed,
and so everyone in the empire was tossed into turmoil,
including pregnant Mary…
traveling at an inopportune time,
a dangerous time,
her and Joseph’s feet slapping against pavement and sand
in order to arrive in Bethlehem.
Arrive like uninvited guests,
their room mean and low,
complete with a rough manger.
So too the Shepherds have their world turned upside down,
or perhaps inside-out or outside-in
—heaven piercing the cold night sky,
a messenger of God among their lambs
—what is this?
Not “oh no, not again,” but a panicked and terrified, “Oh no!”
But, this panic gives way, Thank God.
The travails of travel are overwhelmed with the cries of a new baby born,
the mean estate of the manger transformed into a crib of joy.
The shock of an Angel’s arrival is replaced with the words,
“Be not afraid!”
The proclamation of Good News.
“Savior, Messiah, Lord.”
A figure unlike those you’ve experienced,
the Augustuses and Quiriniuses of the world,
they disrupt for disruption’s sake,
dehumanizing for the sake of ego…
“Not this one,” the Shepherds are told, “as His sigil,
that is His sign of authority
—will be soft strips of cloth and a meager manger.”
You see, the kind of turning Mary sings about in the Magnificat,
the kind of upside down Kingdom Jesus brings
—it’s the Prophet Daniel’s promise of a Humane Kingdom,
instead of a Monstrous one…
-instead of force, coercion and cruelty,
-creativity, wooing, and peace.
That’s what this Kingdom of Heaven stuff we’ll be reading about this year in Matthew’s Gospel is all about
—when folk are close to Jesus they know what real authority is,
they know what God’s Reign is like,
they experience God making all things right.
They get to go and see this thing God is doing,
this uncontainable story
—Christmas.
And we do too…
You see, the point of the “God conversations” we’ve been marking with marbles moved from container to container, is as much about listening as talking,
As Lutheran Theologian and Martyr to the Nazis, Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote, “We do God’s work for our brothers and sisters when we learn to listen to them. So often Christians, especially preachers, think that their only service is always to have to “offer” something when they are together with other people. They forget that listening can be a greater service than speaking.”
It can be hard to do,
but we get to ask our neighbors what God is already up to,
because we know, like the Shepherds, that God has already arrived,
we get to rush out and see the sight
—manger and cloth.
We get to go and find out how we can be part of the Kingdom of God
in our own back yards.
When done right, God conversations can be a kind of mutual proclamation of the Gospel.
This good news, God’s gentle rule, the Kingdom of Heaven,
can seem impossible
—it is after all so different from our ordinary experience of the world,
it can be jarring,
it can be like going directly from a battle field to a birthday party…
For that reason, Mary ponders it
—picks apart the proclamation she has heard,
and puts it back together again,
hearing it afresh and making it digestible and meaningful to her.
The shepherds too,
they have to go and see Jesus for themselves,
experience the good news the angel told them about.
And, as the Pastor of this congregation, I am privileged to see how those connections get worked out in our community.
-An all age Christmas pageant putting a fresh spark into an old story,
-gentle music and silence making the Christmas promise relevant in the midst of mourning,
-receiving Holy Communion for the first time in a long time,
-nursing home residents remembered
-hungry folk fed…
I could go on,
but you see my point,
the Kingdom of the Christ Child, the reign of God,
is found in small mundane moments made holy by God
—the Son of God born among us, a vulnerable baby.
And so, celebrating God’s holy disruption among us,
Jesus Christ born in our world of tumult and turmoil…
like the shepherds let us praise, the Prince of Peace,
like the angelic hosts let us sing Glory to the Newborn King.
