The Prince of Piece

This morning I read about this family Christmas photo that was shared on Twitter recently by a United States congressman. Thus far, the commentary I have read on it notes how inappropriate it was for him to share this photo at this time, given the school shooting that took place in Michigan last week.

I have another concern about the photo, however. It should be self-evident to any Christian who is motivated to “put Christ back in Christmas” that this image is contrary to the core message of Christmas.

In the birth of Jesus, we see that God did not respond to the world’s violence with more violence, even in self-defense. Jesus was born into a regime of heartless brutality, terror, and oppression. Yet, the Son of God did not enter this world armed to the teeth; nor was he born into a family who had stockpiled a great arsenal to defend their rights against the might of their Roman oppressors.

Instead, the Son of God took on human flesh, laying aside his heavenly power and prerogatives to identify with us as powerless and weak. His real power was simply in his solidarity with the oppressed, in his becoming one of them. In becoming human, God became vulnerable and approachable—gentle, not forceful.

This was (and is) God’s way to peace on earth—and the Christmas story is our yearly reminder of God’s heart. Now is not a time to celebrate our capacity for violence, whether personally or nationally. In fact, if we were to really embrace the spirit of the season, we would sense the invitation of God’s Spirit crying out to us to mourn our violent response to God’s offensive of love.

The world will always have a “Yes, but…” to this initiative of God’s—but that will not cause God to give up on his program for peace. On the contrary, the one who would follow Christ sees the connection from the cradle to the cross of Jesus. He died as he was born…caught up in the swirl of violence, but relentless in refusing to take up arms. In both his birth and death, Jesus showed us the full extent of God’s love for us and he exposed the utter absurdity of our unjust brutalities.

Let us not desecrate the light of the nativity of the Christ by treating our capacity for violence so flippantly. Instead, may we mourn our tendency to perpetuate the violence that plagues our world and may we learn to identify with the One whose only weapon to counter the hatred was love and love alone. Then we will really experience God’s good will for all; then and only then will we have true peace on earth.

………………….

The Prince of Piece

reflections by Troy Cady

Suffering, Evil and the Nativity

Suffering, Evil and the Nativity

commentary on

the massacre of the Innocents

by Troy Cady

.....................................

“Glory to God in the highest

and on earth peace to those

on whom his favor rests.”

-Luke 2:14

“A voice is heard in Ramah,

weeping and great mourning,

Rachel weeping for her children

and refusing to be comforted,

because they are no more.”

-Matthew 2:18

There are two accounts of the life of Jesus in the Bible that describe the time of his infancy. The first is found in Matthew’s Gospel and the second is found in Luke’s. Mark’s biography begins when Jesus is an adult and John’s begins with a theological interpretation of Jesus’ life.

Each of the four biographers had different reasons for writing, so they highlight different aspects of Jesus’ life. In Luke, for example, we read of Caesar Augustus who had already been propagating his own “good news” for many years by the time the angels announced to shepherds a different “good news” message about the birth of Jesus.

Augustus’ good news claimed to be the salvation of the world but to the Jewish people of Jesus’ time, and especially the poor and marginalized, it was oppressive. So, it’s significant that the angels (literally, “messengers”) give their news to a group of Jewish shepherds—a group regarded both by the Romans and their fellow Jewish citizens as “less than.”

Matthew’s account focuses on Jesus’ genesis in three stages through the figures of Joseph, Mary, Herod and a group of “Magi from the east.” The first stage tells of his birth and its basic meaning: his name will be Deliverer and he will be God-with-us.

Photo by Kat J on Unsplash

The second stage happens after Jesus’ birth when the Magi from the east have arrived to pay their respects to the newborn King. Herod tries to use them to get to the baby so he can put the child to death and preserve his own pre-eminence. When he discovers the Magi will not cooperate with him, he decides to kill all the infants in Bethlehem and its vicinity. In the middle of this second part, Joseph is warned in a dream to flee to Egypt with Mary and the child.  

The third stage portrays the return of the holy family to Nazareth, a small town in the northern province of Galilee in Israel, once Herod has died and the danger has passed. In Matthew’s biography, the next chapter flashes ahead to where Mark begins his account (with the scene of Jesus as a full grown adult on the verge of commencing his public ministry).

The Practice of Remembrance

Yesterday (December 28^th) was a day when many Christian traditions solemnly remember the slaughter of the Holy Innocents. This is somewhat surprising since the day of remembrance always occurs in the midst of the twelve days of the Christmas feasting season. Having spent four weeks of Advent in a state of longing, lamenting the darkness all around and crying out for God’s light to break forth, Christians are relieved when Christmas day comes because it means that, at long last, they can break their spiritual (and, perhaps, physical) fast with an extended time of rejoicing.

The twelve days of feasting between Christmas and January 6 (Epiphany) thus hold an important place in the annual rhythm of spiritually re-enacting the entire story of Jesus (birth, life, death, resurrection, ascension and promised coming again). This re-enactment is important because, for centuries now, it is the primary way Christians have “made disciples” of Jesus. That is to say, such a re-enactment is how Christians pass on and embody Christ from one generation to the next. More than a set of doctrines, Christianity claims to be a true, timeless and timely story around which one wraps their life and within which one’s life is wrapped. It’s a story that has happened, is happening still today and has yet to reach its complete consummation. It’s more than a history; it’s a present living orientation—an enduring reality for the Christ-follower—and a directive hope.

So, again, it is somewhat strange that, during this time of feasting, Christians would remember something so horrific as the slaughter of the Innocents. Why? Why remember such a thing during such a happy time?

Some might assert we remember it because it’s what happened; it’s part of the story of Jesus’ infancy—and, therefore, it’s part of our ongoing story. From that vantage, a closer look at the flow of Matthew’s account bears out some interesting and important perspectives concerning the gospel Christians proclaim.

How Matthew Tells the Story

Textually, the entire birth narrative in Matthew forms a chiastic literary structure, where the mass murder serves as a narrative fulcrum. Part 1 of the chiasm relates the redemptive significance of Jesus’ birth: his deliverance and immanence. Part 2 relates our response and the consequences that follow from such a response. Part 3 relates the return of the Deliverer from exile—a type of restored immanence.

Visually, we could lay the text out like so:

A- Good News

                   B- Bad News

A’- Good News

These three parts parallel three dreams that Joseph has.

In the first dream, the angel tells him not to be afraid to take Mary as his wife: the child is God’s Son, he is to be named Deliverer, and he will be called The Nearby God.

In the second dream, the angel warns Joseph to “take the child and his mother and escape to Egypt” in order to preserve the child’s life from the mass infanticide Herod is about to commit.

In the third dream, the angel tells Joseph to “take the child and his mother and go to the land of Israel” now that “those who were trying to take the child’s life are dead.”

The Magi and Herod only appear in the middle of this narrative arc. Like Herod, the Magi are wealthy and powerful, but that is where the resemblance ends. Everything else about them serves as a contrast to Herod; thus, Matthew uses this part of the story to establish the Magi as a literary foil for Herod. Herod has been in the midst of Jesus’ arrival all along, but the Magi have come from far away. Herod has missed the clues about the origin of the Messiah, but the Magi are wise. The Magi come bearing gifts for the child to honor him, but Herod wants to put the child to death—he seeks only his own glorification.

What’s more, the scene with the Magi parallels what Joseph experiences, thus tying the Magi to the redemptive thread that runs through the entire story. All told, there are five dreams, four of which are dreams of Joseph. Notice in the diagram below that the dream of the Magi occurs in the verse immediately preceding the second dream of Joseph. The dreams build, then resolve.

Structurally, the entire pericope looks like this:

Part 1 focus: the holy family

J’s dream to wed Mary

          Name the child “Deliverer”

          He will save us from sin

          He will be God-with-us

Part 2 focus: Magi and Herod, honor and attack

Part 2a: Magi guided by the star to Jerusalem

Part 2b: Magi meet with Herod

Part 2c: Magi follow the star to Bethlehem

Part 2d: Magi present gifts to the child

Part 2e: Magi dream not to return to Herod

Part 2f: J’s dream to flee to Egypt

Part 2g: Herod kills the innocent children

Part 3 focus: the holy family

J’s dream; family returns to Israel

J’s dream; family settles in Galilee

It is significant that the presentation of gifts by the Magi (gifts most people still recall today) occurs right before the Magi and Joseph flee from Herod. Scholars often note the significance of gold, frankincense and myrrh as it pertains to Jesus: 1) gold for a king, 2) frankincense for a priest and 3) myrrh as an embalming agent when preparing a body for burial.

But what is interesting is that the placement of these gifts at this point in the narrative suggests that the gifts also apply to the tragedy that immediately follows in the story. All three gifts, like the Magi, serve as a foil to Herod’s action. The gold would help them move and settle in Egypt. The frankincense represents the prayers that rise to the ears of God—in this case, the “voice” that is heard: “Rachel weeping for her children.” Finally, the myrrh is for all the children whom the Child held close to his heart when he gave up his own life for them. He chased after them all the way to the grave, to share with them everything he has.

Concluding Thoughts

The slaughter of the innocents is far from an inconvenient diversion when considering what kind of gospel Christians are called to embody and proclaim. Indeed, in Matthew’s account of Jesus’ birth, the tragedy occurs right at the heart of the story. Everything leads up to it and Jesus’ homecoming after it serves as a narrative resolution.

          Remembrance of the atrocity is important because it tells us that Jesus came right into the heart of the darkest places of our world. Though Luke proclaims “peace on earth,” Matthew portrays the need for peace through showing us the horrors we’re capable of committing. Matthew describes in vivid detail what Luke only hints at by referencing Caesar Augustus. Matthew tells us that Herod, placed into power by Augustus, showed us the true nature of Augustus—but Jesus (the Deliverer, God-at-hand) shows us the true nature of God.

          Matthew’s account presents no placid picture of redemption. On the contrary, he raises a theological problem that stretches faith to the breaking point: the good news contains the mystery of suffering—and this mystery unsettles us, causes us to doubt. Namely, we struggle to understand why the Father would deliver the Deliverer from the massacre, but not the other children. Surely, if God could speak to Joseph in a dream, he could have spoken to all the other families, too.

          “Why, God?” we ask—and in the asking, we begin to understand why the mothers (represented by Rachel in the text) weep ceaselessly, “refusing to be comforted.”

          I suppose the comfort takes some time to begin to settle in and this is alluded to by the fact that Jesus is no longer an infant when the holy family returns from Egypt. Still, he refuses to lay hold of comfort. We see this both in his exile and in the scenes that immediately follow (in which Jesus is baptized to face the trial of the desert).

          Though Jesus was delivered earlier, what makes him the Deliverer for others is his refusal to be “delivered” so easily. He faces what we face head-on. He knows hunger and thirst. He knows the desire for power (like Herod). He knows evil first-hand. And this is comforting to us, in the end, because it means he is not exempt from the kind of suffering perpetrated by Herod. He joined us in it; he chose it. Thus, he can, as Matthew records, “save us from our sins” and the effects of our sins.

         The Christian who would “remember” the story classically (by participation) is thus someone who sees the suffering of the world and enters into it because of love. The Christian who primarily thinks of their faith as a separation from the world would do well to reconsider it more as an expression of solidarity with the world. While it is true that such a faith is risky and can even put one’s life in danger, we can trust there is a Deliverer who has been delivered to us and for us. Having been delivered, it is this same Deliverer who calls us to join him in delivering the oppressed, threatened and helpless--to put our lives on the line because of love. My prayer after reflecting on this text is that we would keep the true spirit of Christmas, though it is far from easy to do so.

the everyday miracle

God, the Ancient of Days,

broke forth from Mary,

a teenager from a tiny town.

God knows the newborn with no bed

because God was one of them.

God knows a people

harassed and helpless

because God was one of us.

By taking the most common name

God did what was most uncommon.

When the Word became an infant who had no words

God did a whole lot of listening;

God made himself dependent

on the care of those who cared not for him.

God became hungry;

he whose hand sustains us

was sustained by the hands he made.

“Why such Love?” I wonder.

Maybe God made himself small and unimportant

so he could slip inside our self-important, shriveled hearts.

After all, we are too small for God’s kingdom

because we are too big in our own eyes.

How shall we cling to pride

when God showed us his humility?

Let us humble ourselves before the Child,

whose single purpose was to Love,

the very picture of Dignity undignified.

Christ, Child of Love,

be our abiding Peace and eternal Joy.

Grant us Faith, humble King:

as we age, let us mature to childhood.

…………..

The Everyday Miracle

by Troy Cady

Christmas 2017

"Greetings, you who are highly favored!"

At Easter, many Christians practice a long-time custom when we gather for worship. A leader will say, “Christ is risen” and the congregation will respond, “He is risen, indeed!”

It’s a peculiar custom because we do not say “Christ has risen” as if Jesus’ resurrection is confined to the past. No, if Christ has risen, he is risen now.

The expression carries theological significance. By expressing Christ’s resurrection in the present tense, we declare his resurrection life in us today. It’s a mystery why this should be but Christians believe that we experience past events in the present by a dynamic called faith.

In a similar way, linguists who have studied the Bible refer to two ways in which we may understand the development of Scripture. One way to interpret it is synchronically; the other way is diachronically.

The first way is to simply study the Bible in historical sequence. More accurately, a linguist studying Scripture synchronically may pick any text of Scripture and study it on its own terms, without reference to past or future linguistic developments. A synchronic interpretation of Psalm 23, for example, would involve observing the verbal structure, flow and tone of the text itself, without referencing, say…Jesus’ last supper or his parable about the good shepherd.

The other way to approach the text is diachronically. In this instance, to understand the full significance of Psalm 23, we would bring to bear texts of Moses as a shepherd, David’s life, Jesus’ teachings, and the nativity text in Luke 2 where the angels appear to shepherds. This approach puts different time periods in conversation. We see more recent events in light of what came before and we are even able to glean insight on texts that came before in light of what came after.

That is how the past and present converse. The past doesn’t stay in the past. What’s past is present.  That is why we say “Christ is risen” instead of “Christ has risen.”

I am writing this on Christmas day and I do so because I wonder how this principle might play out with regard to Christ’s birth. And it struck me: at Christmastime, we say “Merry Christmas” to one another but there is no verbal analogue to the Easter greeting we exchange.

To be sure, many churches employ the liturgy in which the leader and congregation proclaim “The Lord be with you/And also with you.” I suppose this could be a Christmas exchange since the central theological tenet of Christmas is that “God is with us.” But, culturally speaking, I do not think this little dialectic carries the same weight as the Easter greeting. We tend not to think of it as a Christmas greeting, per se; we tend to think of it as a “common time” greeting, in fact.

At any rate, I am pondering this morning how to personally reclaim the diachronic sense of the Christmas story; how to let it speak to me now and guide my life now, as if my present life is in conversation with Christ’s birth some two thousand years ago.

Pondering this, I was drawn to the idea of God’s favor which both begins and ends the account of Jesus’ birth. The conception of Christ and his birth converse with one another diachronically so each can converse with us today. Notice:

When the angel appears to Mary she is greeted with the words, “Greetings, you who are highly favored!”

When the angels appear to the shepherds on the night Jesus was born, they sing, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”

The first thing I take from this for today is this: God’s favor rests on the most unlikely people. In fact, God’s favor rests on all of us…men and women, rich and poor, young and old, no matter our station in life.

Notice that the first greeting is for one person and the second greeting is given to a group of shepherds (and their sheep!).

And, most importantly, the second greeting is for the entire “earth”; it is for everyone and everything. In the space of nine months, the blessing of God which starts as a seed, grows to a harvest of global proportions.

This is akin to the story of Abram/Abraham, to which the story of Jesus stands in diachronic continuity. Recall that God gave a promise to Abram that he would bear a son and through that “seed” all the nations of the earth would be blessed. In fact, God said this to Abram/Abraham on three different occasions (in Genesis 22:18, 26:4 and 28:14) and this same Abrahamic promise was repeated in Acts 3:25 (in Peter’s speech to the crowd after healing a lame man).

What begins as a blessing for one person grows to bless all persons. All persons…everyone.

But we do not treat everyone as if they are someone on whom God’s favor rests, do we? We classify others as blessed or cursed, but the birth of Jesus is for everyone. Because of Jesus’ birth, the curse is lifted.

And this is the diachronic knife that cuts deep, I do believe. Somehow, we are not really living the birth of Jesus—and maybe that is because we are not even living the conception of Jesus.

For Jesus to be born for everyone, he must be conceived in me. A Christian is one who hears God’s greeting to him or her personally, saying, “Greetings, you who are highly favored!” The greeting is not just for Mary. It is for each one of us and if it is not for you personally, it cannot be for everyone.

A Christian is one who allows God to grow inside himself or herself. Notice that when the angel appears to Mary and tells her what God wants, she willingly responds, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” (Luke 1:38, NRSV)

And notice that the response of Mary stands in diachronic continuity with Isaiah, the prophet we know best for texts that foretell the birth, death and resurrection of Christ. Many Christians are familiar with the text of Isaiah 6:8. Notice the parallel structure to Mary’s response. It reads:

Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” And I said, “Here am I; send me!”

On this day when we celebrate the birth of Christ, it is an excellent time to consider whether you are responding with the same willingness as Mary and Isaiah: “Here am I, Lord! I am your servant. May your will be done.”

On this day, it is also an excellent time to consider how Christ is growing in you and how Christ’s growth in you sends you to be a blessing to all people. That is the message that flows between Abraham and Mary, between Isaiah and the shepherds, between Jesus and you.

To practice a Christmas faith like we practice our Easter faith, Christians should treat the remembrance of Jesus’ historic birth as occasion to start the story all over again—from within, by faith. Christmas day proves to be an excellent time to consider how Christ’s birth commences a season wherein Christ’s life grows inside us to share with all.

In this season I invite you to ask yourself: “How is Jesus growing in me? When his life breaks forth, how am I sharing his joy with everyone? When I see him growing in others whom I least suspect, how will I recognize it and will I join with God’s angels in celebrating it?”

I invite you to let the historic event of Christ’s birth truly speak to you today. To do that, I invite you to reflect on your own wondering questions…the questions of Christmas that simultaneously comfort us and challenge us.

May Christ grow in you and may Christ be born for others through you. Merry Christmas!

a newborn named joshua

The mother and father were not from around here, but the king told them to report. They came from a town up north, also small, about seventy miles away. It was an uphill journey to the capital and then a little more uphill to our town.

The woman was pregnant when they arrived—and they had no place to stay. The lodging for out-of-towners was all booked up. Poor girl.

Our next door neighbor had a space for them—in his stable.

I am not sure how long they were here before she gave birth, but that is how I got to know them. I heard the baby crying.  I asked father if I could pay them a visit.

I am the middle child, ten years old. We are a family of musicians. We make all kinds of instruments. The holidays had passed not long before so we were back to life as usual.

The strangers next door were a welcome curiosity to me. Mother gave me some bread, cheese and wine to take to them.

The father was holding the baby when I arrived. The mother was resting.

I greeted him. “Mazel tov!”

“Thank you! Shalom.”

“My name is Asher. I live next door.”

“I am glad to meet you. My name is Joseph ben Jacob.”

“He is a beautiful baby.”

“Would you like to hold him?”

“May I?”

“Of course.”

His eyes seemed smaller than my little brother’s. His fingers were shorter and he had less hair on his head.

“What is his name?” I asked.

“Joshua.”

We made fast friends. I wanted to teach him to whistle. 

"Here is a tune you should learn."

Joseph laughed.

…………………………….

It has been some days since I met Joshua ben Joseph.

The king’s men came through town three nights ago. It was horrific.

They killed my little brother. Slashed his throat.

I was awakened by the sound of my mother screaming and crying, fighting for my brother's life. My father was bent over his small body. He kept me away. 

My mother cried and cried and cried. I had never before seen her like this. My father covered his son, held him, joined my mother by the wall and cried, heaving.

The following morning I found out that every boy in our village two years old or younger was killed.

We buried him yesterday, according to our custom.

Earlier today, I wondered what had happened to the family in the stable and found out they left town just before the slaughter.

There will be no flute-making for twenty-seven more days. We will say Kaddish. Mother and father will attend no celebrations for the next year. Most of the town would have no celebrations, anyway. An entire village in mourning.

We will not strum our instruments. Our harps will be played only by others and we will stop our ears from their sounds. Slavery in Egypt would be better than this hell.

I miss my brother but I wish Joshua well. I wish I could see him again. I would take him to my special hiding place and whistle softly so no one else could hear. He needs to learn these tunes, even the songs of mourning. 

I am glad he escaped. I hope to meet him again some day. He is just a normal boy but I suspect there may be something special about him. He reminds me of music, a simple tune.

Maybe some day I can play some music for him. For now, there will be no music.

A Newborn Named Joshua

a short story by Troy Cady

happy holidays

Today marks the last day of Advent. Some of us (myself included) have flipped to the end of the story, the birthday. But we are not there yet. Be patient.

When my wife was pregnant with our son, we could hardly wait. Her abdomen looked ready to pop, quite literally. I wondered how, how much longer could she hold that child inside? My, she must be tired and ready to have that boy out of her body at last!

Those last days seemed like the longest waiting days.

We knew he was ready to be born. We knew his heart was strong and his lungs were capable of full breath. Now he was simply gaining weight inside, growing larger and larger each day.

When would he finally arrive? We didn’t know.

…………………………………………….

They didn’t know the king would be born in a barn. They didn’t know he’d have to use a feed box for a cradle. When Mary first became pregnant, she did not know her family would not be there to hold the baby and smile over him. That first night he was visited by shepherds, total strangers.  This is not what one hopes.  That is why they didn’t know it would turn out the way it did.

A book was filled with the things they didn’t know. His life is history’s most note-worthy.

Why?

Because he came to make friends with his enemies. What kind of person does this? Someone who forgives. Jesus, our exemplar, is named “God saves” because he atoned for a heritage of enmity, unbroken for generations.

I can list my enemies. I have many. You do, too. They are not nameless. They were likely once close to you. They might even be in your own family.

Our enemies are not the kind of people you read about in the news. You will not find a story about them on CNN. Nations they are not. They are next-door neighbors, classmates, colleagues, bosses, stepmothers, fathers or siblings.

You will not consciously write about them. What’s the point? They are not worth a second’s thought, let alone a cluster of computer pixels.

Nevertheless, they are written on your heart. And their voices are a part of each person’s story, whether we like it or not.

God is the only one whose enemies are written on his heart in love. The rest of us have them on our hearts in bitterness. That is why he sent his Son. So that he could give us his heart.

By faith, his heart can become our heart. We have a new capacity to make peace.

…………………………………………………………

This year was no different than any other year I can remember in my lifetime. We witnessed culture wars in America.

Pick the topic: homosexuality, Obamacare, the war in fill in the blank, Duck Dynasty, the Pope, Christian celebrity plagiarism, and….as usual…the so-called “war on Christmas.”

The story goes that we have been told we should greet one another on the street and in public places with the words “happy holidays” instead of “merry Christmas.”

Christians do not like this. It is a sign we are “losing our country.” So…we’ll say “Merry Christmas” if we want to, by gum. “America is a Christian nation and don’t you forget it.”

But we should be the first to embrace the phrase “happy holidays” because a holiday is a holy day.

The word holy is so wonderful it means many things at once. It means “wholeness.” It means “set apart for something special and good.” When the temporal is impregnated by the eternal we call that holy. Holiness is more adventurous than puritan. It is more playful than serious. It is more like a dance than an exam. The word “shalom” accompanies holiness. It connotes well-being, peace, prosperity, abundance, rest. To be holy is to be blessed, happy. The very shadow of holiness is joy.

So, the greeting “happy holidays” befits the Christian. Say it with gladness.

But remember, it comes with a discipline: forgiveness. There is no holiness without forgiving and being forgiven. Christ’s clothes healed the wounded because of grace. Grace and only grace makes us holy.

To wish another “happy holidays” is to remind yourself to be a reconciler, a peace-maker.

In this light, our culture wars seem petty. In the light of eternity, Duck Dynasty will fade. We don’t need to fight that battle. Visit the small stable where the Christ was born, where eternity invaded the dying lands, and you will see how much smaller Obamacare is. 163 years from now the story around which we revolve will not be about celebrity pastors or the war in Afghanistan. It will be about the wonder of a God who forgave and still forgives.

This small story is the Christian’s anchor. The Christian story is a proclamation of hiddenness, the power of humility, and the scandal of grace.

Let’s keep Christ in Christmas, truly, truly. Let’s leave outcomes to God—and wait. It’s still Advent, after all.

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the house of bread

It has been raining all day, with the promise of snow forecast. A little while ago, snow appeared for some minutes, but now it is dry. Nothing comes down from the sky and darkness has fully veiled the city on the eve of the year’s longest night.

Within a week a menacing shadow has seemed to grow. Senseless shootings dominate the news from west in Portland to east in Connecticut. Two nights ago, two friends told of touches with suicide and another told of a friend suffering from sudden fits of uncontrollable anxiety.

For many years at Easter now, we have celebrated the breaking of the “lechem onee”, a Hebrew phrase meaning “the bread of affliction.” The story is told that Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, took this bread and when he broke it (as in the midst of affliction), he gave thanks and offered it to his disciples to share with him.

I have found myself wanting Jesus to share this same bread with me this Christmastime but have wondered, “Where is he? Why does he not offer to eat it with us now? Must we wait for another time?”

And the answer is “no”. He shares it with us now. For Bethlehem, the place of his birth, declares this by its very name. Literally translated, Bethlehem is “the house of bread.”  

This is the Christian answer to suffering:  solidarity. Better still: compassion—which, in Latin, means “with bread”.

“Where is God in such terrible times?”

Christianity says that God is sharing our suffering with us, like one who comes with bread, the bread of affliction. We believe that this house of bread called Bethlehem is here now, and we are all but forgotten--for God is with us.

I will worship this hidden God who comes in solidarity, with compassion. Will you please join me?  None of us wishes to be alone.

the gospel according to simon and garfunkel

In 1966 Simon and Garfunkel recorded a song that speaks to the Christmas advent season we are in. It is the song “Silent Night”, but it is performed with a dissonant twist.

Hidden between the lines of this recording are questions we all must ask ourselves this holiday season. They are questions such as, “If God fulfilled his age-old promises by sending us the Messiah, why is this world still so messed up? Is God’s answer to humanity’s suffering, (that is, the answer of Christ’s birth) really good enough? If so,why?”

Seeing those images, we cannot help but be struck by the difference in the two worlds represented. On the one hand, Simon and Garfunkel’s recording suggests that apart from truly living in the spirit of Christ, this world becomes a very complex place, impossible to navigate. It is riddled with violence, politicking, lust and coercion.  This was the state of the world in 1966 and it is no less characteristic of us in the twenty-first century.

It should also come as no surprise that these societal stains were just as common in the first century when Jesus was born. Yes, he too was born in a world tainted by violence, politicking, lust and coercion. Yet, on that night, in a world filled with sin and dominated by evil, the Messiah was born. And in that place, in that place, there was only peace, perfect love, joy, hope. If the cave was a complex place, it was not like the complexity of the world around it; it was only complex because it was filled with a mysterious kind of simplicity: a newborn baby, his mother and father, and worshippers from all walks of life, high and low. In that cave we see a vision of what this world needs. In that space, we see the promises fulfilled.  

Until that day, when the entire created order will be renewed, may we continue to create pockets of heaven on earth where those enmeshed in the seemingly endless cycle of violence can see God’s promise of redemption fulfilled in their own lives. Let’s pray.

Father, thank you that you sent your one and only Son into this mess. We confess that this world is still messed up because we have failed to place our faith in you. Teach us now to understand the promises you have made in ages past; promises of watchful care, redemption and forgiveness. Show us how faith in Jesus applies those promises to our heart and world today. And remind us that there will yet come a day when all of your promises will be completely fulfilled in your second coming. Help us, until that day, to wait patiently, to serve you with our whole heart, to believe in your promises, to be a light shining in a dark world. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

an international christmas greeting

Here's a video put together by the organization I work for. From different parts of the world, Christian Associates wishes you a very merry Christmas! I hope you enjoy watching it--I know I did.

Merry Christmas 2010 from Christian Associates on Vimeo.

some black and white christmas pics

I had fun playing around with some black and white images. I hope you enjoy them, too. -Troy