Nothing to Lose; Everything to Gain

“‘Dear Lord God, I wish to preach in your honor. I wish to speak about you, glorify you, praise your name. Although I can’t do this well of myself, I pray that you may make it good.’”[i]

Now it happened, writes Luke, in those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus to take a census of all the inhabited worldand all the people were going to enroll, each one to their own city (v1,3). Luke’s story about the event of Christ’s Nativity contrasts with what we expect it to be. Experiences and feelings of hope and peace, of love and joy, fill our expectations of Christmas and its season. But, on that night, for Mary and Joseph, for the shepherds at work, there was no hope and peace, there was no joy and love. There was fear. There was anxiety. There was chaos. There was pain (physical and emotional, maybe even spiritual). There was worry and concern threading through every thought and action. There were people struggling to find bravery when they needed it the most.

Luke narrows the scope of the story, focusing in on Joseph and Mary humbly going on their way: Now, Joseph went up from Galilee out of the city of Nazareth into Judea into the city of David being called Bethlehem because he was of the house and lineage of David. He went to be registered with Mary, the one who had been betrothed to him and the one who was pregnant (vv4-5). On that night, Mary and Joseph made a tough journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem. The path wasn’t easy, the ride wasn’t smooth, the forecast was unknown, and there was no confirmation that when they got to Bethlehem there would be lodging. On that night, all was not calm; it was scary and unknown because, on that night, tensions rose and the potential for harm from chaos loomed with every step they took. Adding to this heavy burden, Mary was ready to give birth to her first-born son; her body ached, her spirit fatigued, her mind consumed with what might happen if her time came. On that night, she fought to be brave—walking all that way, not wanting to be a burden to Joseph, unknowing of what was to happen or what would come. Where was God in this for Mary?

And what of Joseph on that night? We don’t hear much about his plight as he made his way, leading the pregnant Mary, to Bethlehem, away from the comfort of his own town of Nazareth, the places and spaces he knew so well. The discomfort of the unfamiliar road and journey barely eclipsed the rolling and roaming narrative in his head: is she telling me the truth? I know the angel spoke to me, but it feels strange, surreal, farfetched… Thoughts of the census accompanied his human doubt and questioning, what will happen to use once this census is done and all the chips are collected into wealthy pockets?[ii] As they traveled into Bethlehem and faced closed door after closed door, Joseph’s brave face faltered as he watched Mary’s face give way to the first pangs of labor. Now it happened, Luke writes, while being there, her days completed… (v6)One prayer passed over his lips, please let me find somewhere safe for her, for him…this child… that’s not even mine… Everything felt up to him; as frustration, fear, and maybe even some resentment began to surface, the burden continued to weigh down on his shoulders.[iii] Where was God in this for Joseph?

In a stable in Bethlehem, they felt safe enough. …[Mary] brought for her first-born son, and she wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger because there was not lodging for them (v7). Neither Joseph nor Mary thought this situation ideal, but it was what it was. And, for now, the child was safe in the wooden manger and hay, among the animals forming fortress around the exhausted couple and the long-awaited Messiah of Israel and the world. Those who felt exhausted from the long, lonely journey, felt beleaguered by the socio-political demands of Caesar Augustus and Syrian Governor Quirinius,[iv] and isolated from family, those who wondered where God was in their plight, now had God in their midst, dwelling among them. God as brave, poor[v] infant daring to face the world in vulnerable humanity: to feel every pain, every sadness, every frustration with systems and ideologies set up and upheld just to keep the already down, down. This one, this brave divine infant, will be the one to heal the fractures existing among humanity and between humanity and God and creation, the fractures that fuel injustice, war, hatred, domination, inequality and inequity, disunity and discord.[vi]

And Shepherds were in that region spending the night and keeping guard through the night over their flock (v8). The shepherds held ground in that dark night, in that silent night. There was, of course, worry about potential animal attacks on their sheep;[vii] there was more worry about what would happen to them and their flock once the census completed. How much more will I lose? I already have so little and this feels like a kick in the gut while down… The shepherds feared not the literal wolf, but the metaphorical one, the one against whom they could not fight and if they did, they knew they would not win.[viii] The shepherds, the oppressed of the oppressed, where afraid; it is quite certain their blanket of anxiety that night did not keep them warm but it sure kept them awake and on guard.[ix] That night, those shepherds didn’t feel that brave as the powerful were gearing up to take what they wanted and they couldn’t do anything about it. Where was God for them?

And then to those who were eager to stay unseen and unnoticed, were exposed by divine, celestial light.[x] Luke describes,

And then an angel of God came upon them and the glory of God illuminated them, and they were frightened with a great fear. And the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid! For, BEHOLD!, I announce to you great joy whichsoever will be for all the people. A savior was born for you today—who is the Lord Christ—in the city of David. And this is a sign for you, you will find a newborn child having been wrapped in swaddling closes and being laid in a manger. And suddenly it happened a great number, an army of heaven appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to the most High God and upon earth peace among humanity whom God favors!” And it happened the angels left from them into heaven… (vv9-15a).

Heavenly light encompassed the shepherds, and for this moment they are center stage in this divine drama. It’s not Jesus the Christ, it’s not God in a ball of fire or voluptuous cloud, it’s not kings or princes, not emperors or governors, it’s not even Mary, the “God-bearer”, who is the center of attention here. It’s the shepherds, the lowly, unclean, unknown, unseen, not-all-that-brave-in-this-instance shepherds.[xi] They are not only addressed by divine representative, they are sent to go find God in a stable, in the hay and wood, among animals, among two very tired, fatigued new parents.

And they go! They are addressed by divine messengers and they are terrified by them,[xii] but they still go because there is always comfort and joy in God’s Goodnews.[xiii] Luke tells us, and they went and hastened and they found Mary and Joseph and the newborn child being laid in the manger (v16). These shepherds feeling, a bit unbrave against the raging of the kingdom of humanity, feel empowered by divine Spirit to go and dare to be in the presence of God without an mediator they know of. These lowly are now the brave, these unclean are now the righteous ones seeking and finding God in God’s humble abode and vulnerable body, it is these humble who are the first to be sent on a great divine mission in the world seeking, finding, and embracing the one who will bring both spiritual and temporal[xiv] release and instigate the divine mission of the revolution of life, love, and liberation to Israel and to the world to defeat the death, indifference, and captivity of the kingdom of humanity.[xv]

Conclusion

Every year I tell you that we are the shepherds, we are part of the rabble that is surrounding the baby Christ in the wooden manger and straw bedding. And this isn’t wrong, we are.[xvi] We are the ones peering in and being vicariously included, completely invited in this story as witnesses and onlookers.[xvii] We are the ones filled with anxiety, plagued with sorrow and grief, dreading what is to come from our own socio-political realities…more anger? More strife? More fear? More division and derision? We’re the ones struggling to be brave in the face of it all. And we’re the ones met tonight by the divine baby in the manger just like the shepherds.

But it’s more than just that; there’s more good news. The theme of tonight’s sermon is bravery. It is the case, in the divine economy, that those who have the least to lose can be the bravest.

Why did Mary say yes to God all those months ago? Because she, the lowly and poor, had little to lose and everything to gain.

Why did Joseph say yes to Mary by way of angelic vision? Because he, the lowly and poor, had little to lose and everything to gain.

Why did the shepherds say yes and hasten to find the new family carrying divine hope, peace, joy, and love into and for the world? Because they, the lowly and poor, had little to lose and everything to gain.

These are the bravest. And each of them was sent by divine summons to go and be in the world in a new way: a way trusting God, a way following Christ, a way empowered by the divine Spirit of God.

The baby is delivered. The mother is exhausted. Step-dad, too. The angels and the host of heaven have announced, glorified, and sang. The shepherds have heard and have found. But the work of Christmas is just beginning… because the baby of Christmas, Jesus the Christ, is born in our hearts tonight and now we become the brave ones called and sent.

“The Work of Christmas” —by Howard Thurman
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 flock,
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 others,
To make music in the heart.

Tonight, we are, along with the Shepherds, along with Joseph, and along with Mary, being sent to do something brave: to dare to have hope, dare to work for peace, dare to rejoice, and dare to love. And we can dare to do such things because this daring comes with nothing to lose, and everything to gain. It is by our faith in Christ, the humble, vulnerable infant born this night, that we can dare because he has gone before us and promises to be with us every step of the way. Immanuel, Immanuel, has ransomed captive Israel.


[i] LW 54:157-158; Table Talk 1590.

[ii] Gonzalez, Luke, 33. “A census had sinister implications. It was not just counting people in order to see how many they were, and what population trends were. In ancient times, and long thereafter, a census was in fact an inventory of all the wealth of a region—its people its animals, and its crops—so that the government would be able to tax people to the maximum. A census usually announced greater poverty and exploitation. It was as welcome among the subjects of the Roman Empire as undocumented immigrants in industrialized nations welcome a census today.”

[iii] Gonzalez, Luke, 33. “As usual, oppression is not a merely political matter, the concern only of those directly involved in politics. It also reaches the everyday lives of people, as is seen in the very fact that Jospeh and Mary have to travel to Bethlehem even though she is about to give birth.”

[iv] Gonzalez, Luke, 33. “The setting is rather that of people living under an oppressive regime. The mention of August and Quirinius—as earlier the mention of Herod—is political charged. For a period before the advent of the Roman Empire, the Jews had been struggling against Syrian domination. Now their land was ruled from Syria by a governor appointed by Rome. Whatever the actual chronology may have been, the political structure is clear: the Jews have a puppet government under Syrian and Roman power.”

[v] Cardenal, Solentiname, 24. “‘[Christ] was the greatest revolutionary, because being God he identified with the poor and he came down from heaven to become a member of the lower class and he gave his life for us all. The way I see it, we all ought to struggle like that for other people and be like him. Get together and be brave.’”

[vi] Ernesto Cardenal, The Gospel in Solentiname, translated by Donald D. Walsh (Eugene: Wipf & Stock, 2010), 23. “[Jesus] was born into a humanity divided and dominated by crime in order to unite us and to change the order of things. And that’s where we are.”

[vii] Justo L. Gonzalez, Luke, Belief: A Theological Commentary on the Bible, eds. Amy Plantinga Pauw and William C. Placher (Louisville: WJK, 2010), 33. “This is not a mellow. Bucolic story about some shepherds tending their sheep with little or no care beyond the possibility of a wandering wolf. That is not the setting in which Luke presents the story.”

[viii] Gonzalez, Luke, 33-34. The shepherds, “they live out in the fields, suffer all kinds of deprivations and even dangers, in order to protect their flocks. But the census threatens a new danger, a wolf more dangerous than any four-legged beast, a wolf that will probably decimate their flocks, and whom they cannot fight, for it is too powerful. It is not difficult to imagine what would be the talk of such shepherds as they sought to remain awake through the night.”

[ix] Gonzalez, Luke, 34. “…the setting itself was one of fear and oppression.”

[x] Gonzalez, Luke, 34. “One of the ways in which the ‘little people’ mange to survive under oppressive regimes is not to call attention to themselves. They seek to go on with their lives unnoticed by the powerful, who could easily crush them. Now these shepherds are literally in the lime-light and an obviously powerful personage confronts them.”

[xi] Cardenal, Solentiname, 26. “Felipe: ‘The angel came to them because they were working men, and I find this is very important for us. Because they were poor little people who were working. They were watching over their sheep which is like taking care of cattle today. They were workers, laborers, poor people. The angle of God could have gone to the king’s palace and said to him: ‘The Savior has been born.’ But the angel didn’t go where the king was but where the poor people were, which means that this message is not for the big shots but for the poor little guys, which means the oppressed, which means us.’”

[xii] Gonzalez, Luke, 34. “It is in that scene, perhaps silent, but not as peaceful as we tend to depict it, that an angel suddenly appears before the shepherds, and they are terrified. Their fear is not surprising.”

[xiii] Gonzalez, Luke, 35. “An encounter with God’s power and might leads to awe and terror, but then God’s gracious word produces joy and comfort.”

[xiv] Gonzalez, Luke, 36. “The title, ‘Savior’ (sōtēr) was employed in the Septuagint (the Greek version of the Hebrew Bible that Luke used) to refer both to God and to those whom God sense to liberate Israel. In the Hebrew scriptures, the function of such liberators in either purely religious nor purely political.”

[xv] Gonzalez, Luke, 36. “The ‘saviors’ in the Hebrew Scriptures liberate Israel from its political oppressors so that the people may be free to serve and obey God…Thus when the angel announces Jesus as ‘Savior,’ his declaration has both political and religious overtones. The child who had been born will free the people from bondage—bondage both to their sins and to their oppressors.”

[xvi] Cardenal, Solentiname, 26. Thomas Peña “‘The way I see it is that those guys who were watching over their sheep heard good news. There they were just like us here, and they heard good news.’”

[xvii] Cardenal, Solentiname, 28. “I: ‘That’s right. At this very moment you are receiving the same news form the angel that the shepherds received.’”

Whole People; Whole World

Sancta Colloquia Episode 403 ft. Lisa Colόn Delay

In this episode I had the honor of speaking with Lisa Colόn DeLay (@LisaDelay) about her book, The Wild Land Within, which was published this past spring. While our conversation is based on the contents of her book, Lisa’s wealth of knowledge and grasp of both theology and the pastoral brings us to weave and wend throughout many of life’s struggles and blessings. Lisa brings so much love and grace to this conversation, it was a joy to talk with this new friend. Lisa is also very passionate about human beings. This passion is not only communicated in this conversation with me, but is on every page of her text. She loves you and wants you to know it. One of the critical things I want to draw attention to here is that Lisa’s text is many parts Spiritual and Practical in its application of theology and pastoral guidance, but the underlying strength of the text is her interlocutors. She’s not relying on the standard Eurocentric white male theologians many of us have been trained to revere and frequently reference–if they didn’t say it, then how dare you say it?! Lisa participates in dismantling this septic trend and in overturning the status quo through her conversations with profound scholars like: George Tinker, Barbara A. Holmes, James H. Cone, Wilda C. Gafney, Ada Maria Isasi-Diaz, Howard Thurman, Ibram Kendi, Phuc Luu, Gustavo Gutierrez, and Evagrius Ponticus (345-400 CE). It was such an honor to talk with Lisa, I hope you enjoy the conversation as much as I did.

Excited? You should be. Listen here:

Interview with Lisa Colόn DeLay

Lisa Colόn DeLay is an author specializing in teaching spiritual growth, healing, and transformation as weekly broadcaster on the Spark My Muse podcast, and on LIVE Stream events. Lisa also provides spiritual companionship. She holds the following degrees:

• B.F.A. Communication Design
• M.A. Spiritual Formation

Lisa’s book The Wild Land Within focuses on spiritual formation and the landscape of the heart (published by
Broadleaf Books, an imprint of 1517 Media). Her blog website: https://lisadelay.com/blog/

Don’t Move so Fast

Matthew 3:13-17 (Homily)

Christmas is over and now we are thrust into the day to day of regular life. Entering the second week of school, it can feel as if we never had Christmas break. Everything picks up where it seems to have left off. Even for me. Even though I’ve an entirely new grade of students sitting at my desks, it’s as if they were always there. Humans are quite remarkable that way: resilient. New becomes normal quickly.

But yet, the events of Christmas did happen. The baby was born. As someone who has had a baby (or a few), I know for a fact that life does *not* just go back to normal within in a day or two. It changes. Forever. And in light of Christmas, the life of the world changes. And yet we seem to skip right over it like we’re in some cosmic competitive game of religious hopscotch.

Our liturgical calendar doesn’t help us either. Liturgically, we moved from the epiphany—the affirmation of Jesus as God incarnate, the long-awaited Christ—to the baptism of Jesus–the affirmation of the affirmation, if you will. So, it would seem we’ve all just moved on from Christmas and are thrust headlong into the descent to Good Friday.

But there’s still Christmas work to be done. This is exactly what happens as Jesus is baptized. As Jesus is baptized and he is affirmed in his divine sonship and belovedness, he leaves the Jordan and will proceed with his ministry. For Jesus, there is Christmas work to be done—it isn’t strictly about getting to the cross as fast as possible. That event will happen and in its own time. But first, there’s healing, feeding, finding, and releasing that needs to be done. African American pastor, author, civil-rights activist, and theologian, Howard Thurman,[1] writes,

The Work of Christmas

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 flock,
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 others,
To make music in the heart.[2]

However, I want to highlight something that isn’t in the text: I want to add a pause for a moment before we all head out of the Jordan and out of Christmas. Before we do anything, we have to find our footing in Christmas. Before we can even begin to appreciate and understand Easter, we have to locate ourselves in the event of faith in the encounter with God in the season of Christmas. To become substantial actors and doers of the work of Christmas, we must find ourselves encountered by God in Christ born a baby in a manager; we must be encountered in a way that undoes the very fabric of our preconceived notions of the world and of ourselves. Because it is in this encounter where we are brought to the end of the selves we think we are in a world we think we know and ushered into the selves we are but didn’t know in a world we hadn’t seen but see clearly now. We must first lose ourselves in order to find ourselves. We are of no earthly good unless we come to terms with who and what we are; we can’t pull someone else up if we don’t have our own good footing in our known strength and ability.

And in order to do this, we need a moment. We need a pause. And there’s no better week than this week—a week dedicated to your wellness. Take these next few days to just be, to just exist; to feel the sensations of the miracle of breathing, the exhilaration of physical existence, and the weight of emotional life. Take time to look and see, listen and hear, touch and feel; take time to notice the beauty of your friends and of your own wonderful and absolutely amazing creation.

Slow everything down. Live. Take that deep and much needed inhale and release a slow exhale. Be present. Receive and give. Rest. Press into being. Lean. Be aware of your mind and body. Be embodied. And remember you are loved. Beloved.

[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Howard_Thurman?scrlybrkr

[2] https://www.bread.org/sites/default/files/downloads/howard-thurman.pdf. This poem, as well as the idea for this homily, came to my attention by mention from a colleague I was listening to recently.