The practice of some Armenian churches teaches us important lessons about Christian faith and devotion: theology is more important than history, and peace is found in Jesus as Lord and King.
Summary Points
- The unique country of Armenia
- Why Christians celebrate Christ’s birth on different dates
- The timelessness of Jesus’ life
- What the Magi teach us about true faith and peace
The ancient country of Armenia is reputed to be the first to declare Christianity as its national religion. The map below shows the territory of the Armenians before and after the genocide committed by Turkey from 1915 to 1920. Nearly 1.5 million people, or 75% of Armenians, were killed or displaced. Hitler reportedly cited the success of the Armenian genocide in arguing for his attack on Poland.
One branch of Armenian Christianity celebrates Christmas on what has come to be called “Old Christmas Day.” Before telling you when that celebration will occur this year, I need to offer some history.
First, Julius Caesar promulgated the official Roman calendar, known as the Julian calendar, in 46 BC. At that time, the year was calculated as 365.25 days. Most people today still say this is the time it takes for the earth to revolve around the sun. In actuality, it takes 365.242199 days, which means the Julian calendar is off 11 minutes, 14 seconds each year.
After some 40 years of recalculations, it was Pope Gregory XIII in 1582 who finally offered a corrected calendar. By that time, the Julian calendar was off by 10 days, so in that year October 5 was followed by October 15. Even though in this instance the church was perfectly aligned with—was even the leading source of—scientific truth, some countries hesitated to adopt the Gregorian reform. Protestant countries refused because they didn’t want to recognize the authority of the pope. Others refused because of their tradition. Greece was the final country to adopt the Gregorian calendar in . . . wait for it . . . the 1920s!
Second, the Feast of the Nativity (what we call Christmas) wasn’t officially assigned to December 25 until the early 4th century in Rome. In large part, the church was motivated by competition with the surrounding culture. In other parts of the church, the Feast of the Nativity was celebrated as part of Epiphany on January 6. “Epiphany” is Greek for “appearance” and it refers here to the manifestation of Jesus’ divinity. Epiphany celebrations recognized four instances when Jesus’ divinity was revealed: at his baptism, when he turned water to wine in Cana, when the Magi visited him, and at his nativity.
Today most of Christianity celebrates the Feast of the Nativity as we do on Christmas, December 25, and Epiphany on January 6. The emphases on these days are divided. In the West, December 25 is the Nativity, and January 6 is the visit of the Magi. In the East, December 25 is the visit of the Magi (as part of the Nativity), and January 6 is Christ’s baptism. This is why, by the way, Christmas is a season that lasts twelve days from December 25 through January 5.
Third, some Eastern Orthodox churches don’t recognize December 25 as the Feast of the Nativity. They celebrate the Nativity on January 6. In some cases, the celebration is January 7 due to the irregularity of the calendar. And in one case, the Armenian Orthodox Church, they still don’t follow the Gregorian calendar, so their January 6 celebration of Nativity is our January 19! So you could conceivably celebrate the Feast of the Nativity on December 25, January 6 or 7, and January 19 if you were so inclined and willing to travel.
Here, finally, is the point. The actual date of Christ’s birth is unknown. If Luke’s story of the “shepherds abiding their flocks by night” is historical, then it would be in the Spring, perhaps March, when such abiding occurs. So when it comes to the Bible, we have to remember that it is less about historical accuracy and more about theological testimony.
The Bible answers questions not about human history, but about God’s future. Asking the question, “What does Bible say but about our future with God?” recognizes the priority of theological issues over historical ones. More to the point, the life of Jesus—each part of it: his birth, life, death, resurrection, ascension, and promised return—is outside of history. It is for everybody in every time. The whole of Jesus’ life is for every day.
The Feast of the Nativity—Christmas—is about Jesus’ birth and our rebirth. It is about God with us and us with God. It is about divine peace through reconciliation in contrast to human peace through vanquishing one’s enemies. It is about God’s dream for ALL nations, not just ancient Israel and not just Christian nations like Armenia. And all these meanings are included in the story of the Magi.
What we learn from the story of the Magi is that you can’t trust what you hear—especially from politicians. King Herod was nominally Jewish. He had the title “King of the Jews,” but only because he was a puppet of Rome.
Herod boasted impressive achievements. He built palaces for himself, reconstructed the Jewish Temple, and provided advanced infrastructure.
Herod used violence and threats of violence to overcome his political competitors and promote and maintain his narcissistic, ego-maniacal, insecure position.
Matthew tells us that the Magi “heard” Herod. I suspect they knew something was up. Herod requested to meet with them “in secret and inquired as to the exact time of the appearance of the star.” Only then does he direct them to Bethlehem. They had to have sensed that he was already plotting something nefarious. (Remember, after Herod realizes the Magi have betrayed him, he kills all the male children in Bethlehem under two years old—in accordance with the timing of the star’s appearance.)
When the Magi set out for Bethlehem, the star reappears. They apparently had lost track of it, which is why they stopped for directions from Herod in Jerusalem. But there they learned something of great importance to believers in Jesus.
They learned that what politicians say doesn’t address our deepest needs and desires. Even without the prophet (since they weren’t Jewish), they were trying to find a new king who could be known as, “Wonderful Counselor, Everlasting Father, Mighty God, and Prince of Peace.” (see Isaiah 9:6)
Herod was not that that king. He would not become that king. He didn’t want that kind of kingdom.
Those who seek true and lasting peace cannot look to a man who is placed in power by questionable means. It does not come from a man who consults religious leaders only to enhance his political image.
Those who seek true and lasting peace follow the course of the Magi. It comes from seeking the light of Christ, and when finding him, paying homage to him. Peace results from avoiding the Herods of the world and returning home another way—by the way of Jesus Christ.
- What do you think of “ex cathedra” and are there any examples you don’t agree with?
“Ex cathedra” is Latin for “from the chair” and refers to doctrinal statements promulgated by the Pope as the Bishop of Rome. Such statements are considered infallible (perfectly conforming to God’s will). There are two such dogmas in the Roman Catholic Church, namely the Immaculate Conception of Mary and the bodily Assumption of Mary. These were promulgated in 1854 and 1950 respectively. The first refers to Mary’s having been conceived without sin. (It does NOT refer to Jesus’ having been conceived without human sexual intercourse—most people get this wrong.) Since Jesus received his human nature from Mary and was without sin, the Immaculate Conception of Mary explains how he did not inherit sin from her. The second has to do with Mary’s ascent to heaven completely intact as body and soul. It is left unstated whether she actually experienced physical death. The point here is that her earthly life is so meritorious that it is perfectly preserved in heaven.
These dogmas have a complicated history, and the simplest and most gracious way to approach them in faith is to appreciate what they intend to assert. From this perspective, I see them as attempting to preserve Jesus’ uniqueness as a completely faithful person, obedient to God without letting doubt derail his mission, and exalting Mary’s example of faith. Both are presented to us as models to emulate. To that extent, I am happy to affirm the dogmas.
As to whether the Pope (or anyone else) necessarily and perfectly expresses the will of God, I consider such an assertion to jeopardize God’s sovereignty and to be vulnerable to human hubris. I respect people’s prayerful and studied articulation of God’s will, especially when it’s done so in the context of a thoughtful and prayerful community of faith (which is a principle of my Presbyterian tradition). But to state that someone infallibly expresses God’s will crosses a line with which I am not comfortable.
- Do you think the interpretation of the Bible should change along with the changing times? For instance, the church’s stance on homosexuality and gay marriage?
The interpretation of the Bible necessarily changes with time because interpretation is by definition a contextual exercise. EVERYBODY interprets, and the people who say they do NOT interpret are the most dangerous commentators on scripture because they are blind to their own contexts, which include biases and ignorance. This does not mean that every and any interpretation is as valid as any other. It does mean that interpretations are subject to criticism and change. It also means that interpretations are necessarily subjective, and so each should be received with a degree of skepticism. Modern interpretations are not necessarily more accurate than ancient ones. Academic interpretations are not necessarily more faithful than those arising from uneducated circles. Interpreting the Bible or any text in community is perhaps the best safeguard against interpretations that are so far outside the intentions of the authors or texts that they could be deemed just wrong.
The issue of the churches teaching on same-sex relationships is the current hot issue. But the history of the church’s interpretation of the Bible is full of examples where it has changed with the times: With regards to the role of women, the legitimacy of slavery, how the church should relate to the state, the justification for war, whether divorced people can remarry, just to name a few.
- Why do you think you were called to be a pastor?
This is quite a personal question, fully subject to my experience but yet confirmed by a community of faith. Without that confirmation, I would be incapable of answering. It started with my desire to help people. I discovered this desire and some ability through a peer counseling program in high school. Next came the comfort and direction I received through my involvement with Christianity. My faith oriented my life. I enjoyed studying theology, history, and the Bible, so I went to seminary but did not intend to enter the ministry. At this juncture, the community of faith made its first significant contribution when a pastor advised me to enter the “becoming a pastor” process since it lasts three years (the same time required for seminary), and so I might as well go through it.
That process required me to answer questions in a prayerful and thoughtful way, and in conversation with others. My studies were life-giving to me, and all these factors led me (some would say “God led me”) to the ministry. As long as a community of faithful people entrust me to lead them, and as long as I have a desire to contribute to others and serve God in this way, I consider myself called to be a pastor.
- If Jesus was crucified for his “rebellious” ways, then why were people so accepting of Paul’s teachings?
To answer this question I have to make some assumptions, as the question is a little unclear to me. I agree that Jesus was crucified for his rebellious ways—teachings that contradicted the Jewish religion and Roman politics of his day. I assume that the question has to do with Paul’s accommodationist teaching with regards to these two forces—but with qualifications. Paul proclaimed the inclusion of the non-Jews (Gentiles) in the covenant promises of God, which scandalized his Jewish contemporaries. And he also was eager to die a Christian martyr bearing witness of Christ’s lordship to the “Caesar is Lord” Roman authorities of his day. But at the same time, he allowed Timothy to be circumcised (to appease his Jewish audience), and urged submission to the authorities. I think people were accepting of Paul’s teachings because of his authority as a religious scholar, his testimony as a convert, his ability as a teacher, and his authenticity. These are, as I write and think about it, great criteria by which anyone, myself included, should be judged.
- Do you find yourself questioning Christianity because of Paul’s will to convince the people about a man as fulfillment of prophecy, even though he never met Jesus?
Paul did meet Jesus, just not the historical Jesus. Paul’s testimony begins with meeting the resurrected Christ, probably best understood in terms of having had a transformative vision. But Paul’s experience with Jesus was also mediated through existing disciples of Jesus. In other words, Paul had some kind of ecstatic experience with Christ and some kind of personal experience with his disciples. When you think about it, this is all anyone who lives after the crucifixion can hope for, and is in fact what anyone should base their Christian faith upon. I think Paul may have gotten it wrong about Jesus sometimes and in some circumstances, but that is what question 2 above is all about. Paul has his interpretation—and it is perfectly valid in his day and in his circumstances—and it is helpful and authoritative for us today. But we have a responsibility to discern our own positions. So I welcome Paul as a fellow faithful interpreter, but one who is limited necessarily by context.
- What makes Christianity so appealing that it is the world’s largest religion?
Good question. Lots of factors. Here’s a listing in no particular order. We’ve been at it a long time. We inherited a great foundational story in Judaism. We value the body because we believe in the resurrection, so when others fled the sick and needy, we served (and continue to serve) them. It is adaptable to culture because truth is independent of culture. At its core, the story of Christianity—that light prevails over darkness, good over evil, life over death, hope over despair, redemption over loss, community over alienation—is a really good story. It shares the ethic of love with all faithful religions and thoughtful non-religionists.
- Where in the Bible does it say homosexuality is a sin?
I don’t believe the Bible teaches that homosexuality as we understand it today is a sin. The Bible condemns same-sex activity as a violent, xenophobic tactic, and as an exploitive, hedonistic pursuit. Monogamous, loving, committed, same-sex relationships as we witness today—these are inconceivable in the cultures of the Bible’s texts, so whatever verses (and there are 6-7 of them) people might cite against homosexuality actually address something quite different.
- Will Christianity ever reform into something more progressive?
Yes. It is right now, and some have and will evolve with it, and others will marginalize themselves with the traditional form. To find the progressives who will survive and thrive, read Marcus Borg and Brian McLaren. To participate in a live attempt to bridge tradition and contemporary/future faith, come to Faith Presbyterian Church.
- Since there are a lot of religions, do you think others have pieces of truth that can be applied to Christian’s lives?
Absolutely. Thanks to our world having been shrunk into a 10 minute internet search, I have learned from the other great religions (Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, Native Religions, Taoism, Confucianism) and their MANY sub divisions. I encourage every curious soul to search. The truth is not threatened by questions. I caution against the despair of “well, nothing matters” which sometimes concludes the search of some people. Of course it matters. The search is, some argue, what matters most! The Dalai Lama is reputed to have said, “Pick a religion and practice it faithfully.” OK by me! It’s the practice that matters.
- What is the hardest thing to convince non-Christians is true about the Bible?
The hardest thing to convince non-Christian and other thinking people about the Bible is the literal facticity of absurd verses of the Bible. You can’t convince me, a Christian, of these statements, either. But facticity and truth are two different things. The Bible conveys truth, even when it is factually impossible. A beginning list: 7 day creation, geocentric universe, worldwide flood, sun standing still, raising dead people to life, virgin births.
- What are your views on other religions?
I wish I had more lives to live them. My life is as a Christian, so I start and end there. But I appreciate, enjoy, and borrow from the other religions as often as they are helpful. I hope I do so respectfully and faithfully.
- Do you think the decline of Christianity in modern times is wholly negative?
Not at all. The decline of Christianity as defined by privilege and presumption is positive and should be welcomed. It is uncomfortable and disorienting, full of fear and anxiety. But it will lead the faithful to greater faithfulness.
- Who are your favorite women of the Bible?
I like Sarai who laughed at God’s revelation. And Mary who submitted herself to it in faith. I like Jael who nailed a dude in a tent. I like Junia who was an apostle and whose praise by Paul causes patriarchal people of the past and present to try to rewrite the Bible. I like Ester who got a bad guy hanged, and Lydia who was successful in business. I appreciate the balance of Martha who took care of details and her sister Mary who prayed deeply. Eve deserves way more respect than she gets, and I wish I knew more about Noah’s wife. I’m unwholesomely attracted to Delilah and Bathsheba. I deeply respect the Woman at the Well and all the women in Jesus’ parables.
- What is your view of the spiritual experience inside other religions? Do you believe that this is God speaking to people in a way that speaks to their experience?
I do, with the same skepticism and qualifications as I do such testimonies within my own tradition. Just because someone says, “God told me,” or “I felt the Spirit,” doesn’t mean it’s real. If it doesn’t pass the test of love, I have serious reservations. I do believe that God tailors (in my tradition, John Calvin says God “condescends”) God’s communications to our situations. But I also believe we can delude ourselves.
- There are thousands of denominations of Protestantism. Are they wrong or just different?
Both wrong and different. But that’s true of all religious and philosophical credos. And there are not thousands—that’s an overstatement. MAYBE over 100, but certainly not 200. To be gracious, each has something to contribute to the puzzle. But I would say those who are less thoughtful, prayerful, and communal, have less valuable things to offer. And I would venture that some are just plain wrong and can be ignored without consequence.
- What is your favorite portion of the Bible?
Hard question. I like the prophet Isaiah beginning especially with chapter 40. These chapters deal with a people whose faith has been so severely challenged as to lose all hope. I go there a lot. I love the Psalms, but especially when I’ve run out of words to sustain my faith or articulate my heart in prayer. Jesus in the Gospels always challenges me, and Paul’s theology intrigues my mind in ways no one else does. When I take the time, the great narratives, especially of Genesis, yield much to think about. Ecclesiastes is my go-to when my cynicism takes command, and Job is a close friend when I take issue with God. I have more books I dislike than I like. . .
- Why is the “Word of Faith” movement considered cultish?
I don’t know much about this, except that any “name it, claim it,” prosperity, “health and wealth,” happy/clappy gospel proclamation is unfaithful to the Bible and is idolatrous. If you’re not challenged to “lose your life in order to find it,” “experience greatness by becoming the servant of all,” “let your good works shine before others,” “do unto others as you would have them do unto you,” “sacrifice yourself in love for the benefit of others,” then you’re not going to be as faithful a Christian as you’re called to be.
Light and darkness are powerful metaphors that run throughout Bible and are universal. The Gospel of John puts Jesus at the center of this metaphor, and so does Christmas.
Summary Points
- Metaphors in the Gospel of John
- Why Christmas is December 25
- John, Jesus, Jews, and Germans
The Gospel of John loves metaphors. Jesus is the shepherd, the gate, the path, and the vine. The metaphors of bread and water receive more lengthy discussions, but light is probably his favorite metaphor. As light shows up in the first and last chapters of the Bible, so it appears throughout the Gospel of John. It shows up in different contexts. In the Newer Testament, “light” appears most times in John, and it inaugurates the Gospel. It seems John wants to say that you can’t understand any of the other metaphors without enlightenment.
In the prologue, John refers to Genesis. He writes, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was life and light.” Genesis begins, “In the beginning was darkness, and God spoke, creating light.” Though John doesn’t have a birth narrative for Jesus, he remarkably captures the essence of Christmas with his prologue.
Christmas is properly the “Feast of the Nativity.” It was chosen in the 4th century to be on December 25. That was the date of the winter solstice, at least according to calendar at the time. (The actual solstice is December 21—it’s a long story: Check back in a couple of weeks . . .)
“Soltice” comes from the Latin words Sol (sun) and Stitium (to stand still). In the northern hemisphere, the sun appears to rise to the south little by little, creating shorter days and longer nights, until it “stops and turns around” on December 21. This is the winter solstice, and it happens in reverse from then to June 21, the summer solstice.
In 274, Emperor Aurelius, declared December 25 to be the Dies Natalis Solis Invicti, the “Birthday of the Unconquered Sun.” Roman culture was already celebrating Saturnalia from December 17-23, a festival for the god Saturn. It was characterized by gift-giving, banquets, and a carnival-like atmosphere. The excesses of Saturnalia were already a concern for church, but the impulse to celebrate light over darkness was irrepressible. With the introduction of the birthday of unconquered sun, the church saw an opportunity.
Referring to the last chapter of the Older Testament Malachi 4, the church recalled that Malachi urged the people to, “remember the teachings of Moses,” and promised to, “send the prophet Elijah before the day of the Lord.” On that day, Malachi promises, for those “who revere my name, the sun of righteousness shall rise with healing in its wings.”
With Jesus in mind, the church declared the day of the invincible “sun” to be the day of the invincible “son.” In other words, the church built a bridge to the culture surrounding it. Much later this festival became Christ’s Mass, eventually to become Christmas.
Bridges are two-way streets, and there has always been some hesitation about solstice celebrations infiltrating the festival of the nativity at Christmas. This is why the Puritans outlawed Christmas (see last week’s message). But two-way bridges have their advantages. In this case, the two cultures—Christian and pagan—can complement, instead of compete with, one another.
This insight leads us to consider John’s prologue anew. Clearly he is referring to Malachi. The Day of the Lord has arrived in Jesus. John is the promised Elijah. Jesus is the promised sun of righteousness. In chapter 8, Jesus declares that he is, “the light of the world.” John is saying something new, yet by using the words of Genesis, he is saying that this new thing is really, “from the beginning.”
For John, Jesus is the “Word” of creation in Genesis. He is the foundation of all that is. In Lutheran theologian Paul Tillich’s language, Jesus represents God as the “Ground of our being.” For John, Jesus is life-itself, and this life begins, as Genesis does, with light.
Jesus came to the world which was created through him, but had forgotten him. He came to “his own,” the Jewish people, but they did not recognize him. They still worship God and celebrate light (think of Hanukah), just not through Jesus. This propelled Jesus outside of Judaism to Gentile (non-Jewish) nations. As a result, now all people can recognize they are children of God.
This is what John means by referring to Jesus as offering “grace upon grace.” Grace means being chosen by God. There was grace in the Law of Moses, which was the characteristic distinguishing ancient Israel as chosen. John says there is “grace and truth” in Christ. What is this truth? It is that we are all children of God, not just the Jews.
This inclusive ethic is, according to John, “closer to the Father’s heart” than Moses’ exclusive Law keeping. This truth is “from the beginning.” It is the light “that darkness could not overcome.”
This is what we welcome across the bridge from the other side, from the solstice celebrations of light and life, from the “Christmas” rejected by the Puritans. If we were to make this bridge one-way, we would risk not accepting Christ, risk forgetting that we are children of God. We could backtrack from grace and truth to just grace through law. And some in the church desire to do just this.
But Christmas is about grace upon grace. It is about grace and truth, the truth of all being children of God. It is about the “light that enlightens every person.”
The traditions of medieval Germany help us to remember the value of keeping the bridge two-way. In Germany, Advent is called lichtwochen, “light weeks.” In the weeks prior to Christmas, they light candles. The lights on Christmas trees originated from Germany. In the most well-known expression of Christmas light in Nuremburg, they have the Angel, a resplendent being in pleated gold dress representing the lighted star which guided the Magi to Jesus. And in Germany, it is the Christkindel, “Christ child,” who brings gifts, reminding us that in Christ, we are all children of God.
With thanksgiving we receive these reminders of what solstice celebrations of light offer to the Christian church celebrating the birth of Christ. And we must also remember Germany’s plunge into darkness in the last century. They forgot the revelation of John. They forgot the grace of God offered through the Law of Moses. They forgot truth of all people being God’s children. In nationalistic insanity, Hitler tried to eradicate Jews, the mentally ill, the physically handicapped, and non-Aryans.
May it not be so today! As we approach the winter solstice, let us remember the meaning of Christ’s birth—the light that enlightens every person has come, and we are all children of God.
Even though the Gospel of Mark doesn’t have a Christmas birth narrative, it focuses our attention on what really matter most each Christmas.
Summary Points
- Preparation added to promise
- Three ways to prepare for Christmas—and the one which is most important
- A Christmas perspective on repentance
- How the sacrament of baptism prepares us for Christmas
For many people, the virgin birth of Jesus as recounted in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke prove that Jesus is God. But for the Gospel of Mark, this part of Jesus’ story isn’t necessary. Even without angels, annunciations, and dreams, the opening verse of Mark still asserts that Jesus is the Son of God.
The Gospel of Matthew quotes the prophet Isaiah as a form of promise: “The virgin will conceive a child who is to be called Wonderful Counselor, Prince of Peace, Everlasting Father, Mighty God. Promises cause us to hope.
Mark’s Gospel quotes Isaiah as a means of preparation. “See, I am sending my messenger to prepare the way of the Lord: Make the rough places smooth, and the crooked paths straight!” Mark invites us not just to wonder, but to engage. Not just to have faith, but to be faithful. This is a corrective reminder amidst all the other preparations we make during Christmas.
Each year we approach Christmas with a flurry of preparation. Of course we prepare to give gifts. We make gift lists (see my guide), go shopping (remember the batteries!), prepare boxes for mailing, and put up the Christmas tree to display all the gifts we are giving.
We also prepare to receive. We move furniture to receive the Christmas tree. We pull out decorations. We make menus for our dinner guests and then shop for food.
All these preparations easily distract us from receiving the gift of God at Christmas, which is our identity as children of God. It is this identity that is revealed in Christ at Christmas.
There are lots of reasons to have joy at Christmas, and this identity as the children of God is the true joy of Christmas for Christians. I am reading The Book of Joy, written out of the birthday visit of the Christian Arch-bishop Desmond Tutu to the Buddhist 14th Dalai Lama. It has this line which fits well at Christmas: “According to the Arch-bishop and the Dalai Lama, when we see how little we really need—love and connection—then all the getting and grasping that we thought was so essential to our well-being take its rightful place and no longer becomes the focus or the obsession of our lives” (p. 97).
All the preparations to give and to receive can distract us from this true joy. It does so by focusing our attention on what is secondary. What is primary for Christians at Christmas is gratitude for who we are as revealed in the birth Christ. Consider these words from the book Thanks! also apt at Christmas: “In gratitude we recognize that we are not ultimately producers and consumers but, above all, the recipients of gifts” (p. 18). If we Christians fail to remember the gift of Christ, we will consider ourselves “producers and consumers,” and the “getting and grasping” of the season will consume us.
The Gospel of Mark calls us to prepare in a different way, to engage Christmas differently, to have faith and offer faithfulness so that we can receive the gift of our identity in Christ.
In the Gospel of Mark, John the Baptist proclaims a baptism of repentance. We might understand “repentance” in a couple of ways. From the perspective of our Presbyterian forebears, the Scots, repentance required the elimination of the Christmas feast, which they did in 1561. In 1574 fourteen women in Aberdeen were arrested for dancing and singing carols on Christmas Eve. From 1643-1660 Christmas was outlawed in all of Britain. In 1659 the Rev. Murdoch Mackenzie searched house to house to ensure that there were no private parties celebrating Christmas.
Does repentance have to look like this? What if we took a different perspective, one that allowed us to benefit from the Scottish concern while enjoying the spirit of the holiday? I suggest that we hear John’s call to repentance in terms of remembering and returning. If so, then repentance looks like “coming to our senses,” as did the Prodigal Son, who remembered his father and returned home. When we come to our senses, we come to our self, to our true identity in Christ. I believe we can repent this way even while celebrating Christmas with festivity.
It is the sacraments that call us to repentance as remembrance and return. In the Scots Confession of 1560 it states that the sacraments were given: “To make a visible distinction between God’s people and those without the Covenant, and to seal in their hearts the assurance of God’s promise.” Like the renewal sticker on our car license plates, this seal indicates that the vehicle is owned and official. The sacraments claim us as God’s own.
Through the sacraments, we participate in a visible distinction. We remember whose we are. The sacraments seal God’s Word in our hearts, and we live differently in the world as a further visible distinction. How important that distinction is during Christmas!
The sacrament of baptism proclaims Christ’s identity. When he was baptized, Jesus heard from the heavenly voice that, “You are my child, my beloved, and with you I am well pleased.” So baptism also proclaims our identity in Christ: We also are God’s children, God’s beloved, and with us God is well pleased.
This gift of our Christian identity is helpful to remember as we prepare for Christmas. Mark tells us that the people of Judea and Jerusalem “went out” to John the Baptist. Even Jesus came down all the way from Galilee. So Mark calls us also make our own spiritual pilgrimage in response to John’s proclamation.
Perhaps you feel like there’s no possible way you can reflect upon the gift of your baptismal identity amidst everything else going on. Following are some suggestions for squeezing in mini-reflections if you can’t get away for a longer retreat. These “water moments” are routine occurrences throughout a normal day.
- Feeling Dry. Use your dry skin or dry mouth to remember your need for God. Psalm 42 begins, “As the deer longs for streams of water, so my soul longs for God.”
- Use the shower to remember baptism renews, refreshes, and gives us a chance to start again.
- Hand Washing. For some reason you need to wash your hands. Maybe you’ve been working outside or preparing a meal. Give thanks for whatever task God has given you that made your hands dirty. And if it’s before a meal, give thanks for the food you’re about to receive.
- Recreational Use. Whether you’re swimming or skiing, you can use your exercise to give thanks for your body, and remember that because Jesus became God’s Word embodied, your body is good also.
- Baptismal Waters. Touch the waters at the baptismal font, giving thanks for the church family which pledged to care for you, for the traditions which are meaningful to you, for all the things baptism means.
These are some ways we can use the Gospel of Mark to prepare for Christmas. It’s a spiritual housecleaning to parallel our physical one. In these ways, Mark calls us to engage the Christmas story with faith and faithfulness, to remember and to return, to repent from not living like God’s beloved children, and repent towards living like God’s beloved children.
Call us once again, Holy Spirit, to the waters of baptism. May these waters constantly remind us of your love for us and of our identity in Christ. And may they restore to us the joy of Christmas as we receive Christ from you once again. Amen.
Tom Trinidad, Pastor, Faith Presbyterian Church
“Christians often find themselves caught in the dilemma of wanting to mark [Christmas] in some meaningful way consonant with the spirit of the festival, but abhorring the greed, consumerism and meaningless conviviality which the culture seems to impose. . . Increasing numbers of people want to take a stand against Christmas becoming an ever more obscene display of conspicuous consumption in a world where so many want for the basics.” (Doing December Differently, pp. 13, 131)
Mid-winter gift giving has been going in the Christian church since the time of Christ, but not for the reasons we like to think. Giving gifts to emulate the Magi who gave gifts to Christ (Matthew 2:1-12), or to express Christian faith and goodwill (as in Ebenezer Scrooge), are relatively late developments. Originally, Christians gave gifts at mid-winter for the same reasons everyone else did. They were celebrating Saturnalia (a festival in honor of the god Saturn), or Kalends (the Roman New Year), or some other Winter Solstice festival (the beginning of a longer appearance of the sun).
Only later were these extra-Christian gift giving practices overlaid with Christian themes including remembering the benevolent 4th century Bishop of Myra (present day Turkey) St. Nicholas, or the 10th century Bohemian King Wenceslas. Despite objections by the English and American Puritans, it wasn’t really until the 19th century Clement Clarke Moore’s poem “The Night Before Christmas” and Charles Dicken’s A Christmas Carol that gift giving at Christmas took on particularly Christian meanings.
It is estimated that in 2016 Americans will spend 656 billion dollars on gifts, an increase of 3.6% over 2015. Forty-one percent (41%) of people report feeling pressure to spend more than they can afford. Fifty percent (50%) report feeling stress and anxiety. Sixty percent (60%) say Christmas puts a strain on their finances. It is for these reasons of history, theology, and practical finances that the quotation which opens this writing resonates so powerfully with people.
How might we honor the ancient and universal impulse to counter the winter doldrums through gift giving, yet do so with a truly faithful Christian spirit? Following are some suggestions. Consider them suggestions for mindful giving, or intentional giving, or thoughtful giving, or how to give meaningful gifts. When we don’t give gifts in these ways, other reasons creep in that rob us, and those to whom we give gifts, of the joy of gift giving.
- Check in with your feelings. Do you feel anxious or resentful about shopping for and giving a certain gift? What lies behind such feelings? Wouldn’t it be better to feel joy or excitement when gift giving? If you can’t come to these feelings, it might not be worth giving a gift.
- Check your motives. Are you giving out of guilt, a sense of duty, a fear of rejection, or to manipulate the relationship? Wouldn’t it be better to give out of affection or appreciation or gratitude? If these aren’t your motivations, work through things until they are.
- Are there alternative “gifts” you can give, something other than a shopped-for expense? Consider giving your time as a volunteer service (“I’ll watch your children, perform a chore”), or a relationship building opportunity (“I’ll pay for lunch”). Consider hand-writing a note expressing what you appreciate about someone and your relationship with them. Perhaps you can make a craft gift.
- View the gifts you give as a message of your soul or heart. Take time to discern what you want to “say” to someone through a gift. If your heart or soul doesn’t have something to say, wait to give the gift until it does. The gift will be more meaningful then.
- Give your gifts thoughtfully and extravagantly as a repudiation of our culture’s preoccupation with transactional “I do this for you so you’ll do that for me” relationships.
Notes and Gift Ideas:
The Christmas tree symbolizes only half of the Christmas story. Fortunately the other half can be found in a different tree.
Summary Points
- The spiritual life—how it begins and grows
- The background to Isaiah writing
- The powerful imagery of Isaiah’s prophecy—its symbols and their meanings
- Christmas and Christmas trees—sometimes they work against faith
- The evolution of Isaiah’s words—how they keep hope alive today
- How Christ the newborn King is still present in the world
The spiritual life begins when we place our hope in God, when we view and orient our lives around the presence of God. Faith deepens as this view grows longer. Spiritual maturity means living in this long view of faith, especially during trying times.
Normally God in his grace gives us some relief in the short term, but sometimes it takes much longer to understand. The visions and promises of the prophet Isaiah demonstrate this dynamic well, as does the Christmas tree.
As background to Isaiah’s teaching, remember the Kingdom of David in the 10th century before Jesus. This was the golden age of ancient Israel. They were expanding in peace and prosperity and enjoyed national supremacy. But within a few hundred years, the country of Assyria was threatening the Northern Kingdom. As part of their military campaign, Assyria cut down indigenous trees to fuel the war effort and decimate the local economy.
Writing at this time, Isaiah promises that God will abandon Assyria and embrace ancient Israel again. God will cut down Assyria’s mighty trees (their kings and warriors). Then Isaiah likens the nation of Israel to the tree stumps that surround him. He names one of those stumps after Jesse, the father of David, and envisions a shoot sprouting from the stump.
In nature we recognize cycles of devastation and restoration, death and rebirth, loss and redemption. In Colorado Springs we have begun to see the return of trees and wildlife in the burn scars of the 2012 Waldo Canyon Fire and the 2013 Black Forest Fire. This is the image used by Isaiah.
Isaiah promises a new king and a better kingdom. He speaks of a child who has been born who will become this new king. For Isaiah’s audience, the time is close. Seven hundred years later, the people of God were once again in darkness, and they applied Isaiah’s words to the birth of Jesus. Now two thousand years later, we are still awaiting the fulfillment of Isaiah’s vision, and so we speak of Jesus’ return and heaven.
What does Isaiah promise? This new king will inaugurate a new age. He will deliver us from disappointments and uncertainty. Isaiah envisions a return to an idyllic time of harmony. He uses symbols of hostility, and reconciles them: The lion shall live with the lamb, the leopard sleeps with a young goat, the cow and bear families share a meal, carnivorous predators become vegetarian, and children play with poisonous snakes without concern.
The presence of a child is itself a profound symbol. In Genesis 3 when Adam and Eve listen to the snake they bring the curse to creation. At the time God says there will be enmity between their child and the snake. Isaiah forecasts the undoing of that curse.
And children represent new life. They imply long life. This child contrasts with Noah who also brought animals together, but did so as an old man. That renewal project didn’t last. Isaiah is saying that since the harmonizer of creation is a child this time, he will usher in an age of enduring peace.
Isaiah’s promise starts with the shoot springing from the stump remaining of Jesse’s family tree. Other branches will grow. The family tree will become full again. But it will take time. Isaiah envisions complete reforestation, but not in an instant. It will begin with the branch who is King Hezekiah, the ruler after Assyria is defeated. This is God’s short-term relief.
The child Hezekiah grew up. He became a man and the king. But the kings of Judah eventually died, and the Kingdom of Judah would die with them. God’s short-term relief came to an end without Isaiah’s vision being fulfilled. It is in these situations that faith is tested and either weakens or matures.
I see this dynamic playing out for many people during Christmas. One of the reasons people experience a letdown during Christmas is because they put all the hope of the longer perspective of Jesus’ ministry on the December 25th holiday. In this way the Christmas tree is a symbol of the first half of Isaiah’s vision.
The Christmas tree appears to have been introduced to the United States by German immigrants in Pennsylvania. When a picture of the Christmas tree of England’s Queen Victoria (with her German Prince Albert) was published, the Christmas tree became a national fad in the 1840-50s. The first Whitehouse Christmas tree appeared in 1856.
Today 85% of homes have trees. In my family we hunt for and find our tree in the mountains. We cut it down and bring it home. We decorate it and place gifts around it. The green reminds us of life in an otherwise dead winter. Lights encourage our hope during the deepening winter darkness. Gift giving gets us outside of ourselves. Then we open our gifts and play with them until we are satiated. Then we undecorated the tree, take it to be recycled, clean up the dead needles, and return to our pre-Christmas lives.
Without a larger frame, the Christmas season, symbolized by our Christmas tree, represents the hopeful and joyful birth of King Hezekiah, his death, and the return to normal. It becomes a test of faith. It can end with a letdown.
But within a larger frame, the Christmas season can serve in the same way Isaiah’s words came to serve. His original audience experienced the short-term relief under the Judean monarchs beginning with Hezekiah. Isaiah’s words to them were, “Hope now, for you will rejoice soon.” But after the letdown, in the longer term, when the people were again in the valley, they heard in Isaiah’s words, “Remember now what God did in the past, give thanks, and let that thanksgiving keep hope alive today.”
Hundreds of years later the church applied Isaiah’s vision to yet another branch, Jesus, and at Christmas we continue to, “Remember what God has done, give thanks, and hope for the future in God’s Kingdom.”
From Isaiah’s vision of a new tree arising from the stump of Jesse, we have enduring hope to last us throughout our lives, through the pickups and letdowns. This is the idea behind the Jesse Tree.
But how do we keep the hope of Jesus’ kingdom alive? How do we keep it from failing as Hezekiah’s kingdom did? After Jesus’ death, resurrection, and ascension, when he is no longer present to us as he once was, how do we keep from forgetting? Isaiah promised that the “knowledge of God would fill the earth as water covers the sea.” He said “the root of Jesse would stand before the nations.” How can this be?
The answer is in the final words of this passage, that “the dwelling of the king will be glorious.” Jesus may no longer be here as king, but in baptism, we are in Christ. And by the Spirit, Christ is in us. In baptism we are anointed with the Spirit of God, the same Spirit that rested upon King Hezekiah and King Jesus: The spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the reverence for God, the Spirit that enables us to delight in following God. This is why we anoint with oil those who are baptized using these very words from Isaiah.
In baptism and by the Spirit, Christ does remain before the world, because he makes his glorious dwelling—in us. This is the story of Christmas: “Christ in you, the hope of glory.” (Colossian 1:27) Not only are we born again in baptism; Christ is also born again in us.
So let us enjoy our Christmas trees, for the greenery, the lights, and the gifts. And let us remember the Jesse Tree, for the enduring hope it represents to us, and through us, to the world.
Advent starts early as we begin a “walk to Bethlehem.” Join us as we engage perhaps the most prominent biblical metaphor for the spiritual life.
Summary Points
- Walking in the Bible
- Walking in the Light of Christ
- Where to place our hope
- Prayer after the election
When I was in high school a common question among my friends was, “How’s your walk?” Corny as it seems now, we were using a recurring biblical metaphor for the spiritual life. From its opening chapters to its last, the Bible speaks of our walking together with God.
In Genesis 3 God is found walking in the cool of the day, surprised that Adam and Eve are not to be found. Apparently the daily promenade between divine and human was routine. Revelation 21 reports that all the nations will walk with God. Psalm 23 assures us that God is walking with us even through the valley of the shadow of death. In Luke 24 the resurrected Christ teaches two peripatetic disciples before revealing his true identity at the Table. According to the popular poem “Footprints in the Sand,” it is during life’s most difficult times that God carries the surf-strolling tourist.
For the past year we “made the road by walking” through the Bible’s grand narratives, proving the adage that experience and discovery are the best path for spiritual maturity. (See all the sermons here beginning in August 2015.) And so we are walking to Bethlehem, to experience and know God, to remember we do not walk alone, and to discover the presence of Jesus even today.
As a corollary to the “walking with God” metaphor, the Bible speaks of “walking in the light.” This is the major visual of Christmas. It begins with Isaiah’s prophetic assurance that, “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.”
Anytime a light is turned on, it reveals the darkness by contrast. In the 2016 United States presidential election, a light was certainly turned on. Some wanted escape from an encroaching darkness: They saw the America of the 1950s continuing to fade. They saw the expanding government as a gathering of dark clouds. They were disillusioned by the darkness brought on through abuse of power and position.
Others wonder what darkness lies ahead: The shadows of death because they no longer have healthcare? Gay and transgendered people returning to the dark closet? Women who are afraid of the dark, but with them people of non-European descent, non-Christian people, disabled people, and people of limited means?
There is no shortage of darkness as winter approaches this year. Isaiah’s words speak to us. Isaiah’s situation was also political. The hope Isaiah promised was the birth of a child who would become a new king.
Eight centuries later, Israel was again in darkness, and the birth of a child again brought hope. But this was a different kind of king, not one who boasted military might and national supremacy, but one who more fully fulfilled the longing of Isaiah’s heart. This was a king who could more truly be called, “Wonderful counselor, Everlasting father, Prince of peace,” and even “Mighty God.”
The author of 1 John believes he has met this child who became king. He had heard of the promised deliverance from Isaiah, and claims to have seen him with his eyes and touched him with his hands. And 1 John proclaims it to us: God is light, and God has walked with us, and we may walk with God; we may walk in the light.
Everybody walks, in the metaphorical sense. We are all on the spiritual journey. But not everybody walks with God. Not everybody walks in the light. This is the case even if they appear to walk in the light. Jesus accused hypocrites of walking around in their robes in order to be seen. He says they are like people walking over unmarked graves—unclean without knowing it.
But walking with Jesus is different. With Jesus, the lame walk. The blind can see, and walk with Jesus. The dead are raised, and walk with Jesus. The prisoners are set free, and walk with Jesus. Those baptized in Christ, Paul teaches, “walk in newness of life.” Elsewhere he says “We walk by faith, by sight”—by faith in God—not by what we see in the world.
When Jesus’ disciples walk in the light, they do not stumble. Darkness does not overcome them. They do not become blind. They have fellowship with God, 1 John tells us, and they have fellowship with one another.
The hope of the United States and of this world is not in the office of the president. It is in the kingdom of God’s light. It is in the child born to us in Bethlehem, revealed to us by the Spirit, and revealed to the world as we walk in the light.
An excerpt from our prayers Sunday
Lord, this morning we pray for those among your children whose identities have been devalued, debased, dismissed, and denigrated by the political process over the past 17 months. We think of women, immigrant people, non-Christian people, men and women of the military, gays, lesbians, and transgendered people, differently-abled people, and all others who were given cause to question whether America stands for what is right, good, and true. We pray for their sense of self-worth, and we pray for their protection. We pray that the actions and attitudes of those pursuing political power will not cause them to despair that such are the attitudes of all Americans. We pray that the actions and attitudes of those who call themselves Christians will shine the light of your kingdom into our nation.
We pray for those experiencing fear and anxiety as a result of last Tuesday’s election. And we pray for those experiencing feelings of joy and triumph. And we pray for those experiencing resignation or cynicism. Intervene in all these emotions, we pray, and correct them according to the truth of your sovereignty. In our fears and anxieties, help us to trust you. In our joy and triumphs, keep us from idolatry. In our resignation and cynicism, restore our hope in you. Grant us all the faith of Isaiah who envisioned you sitting above the circle of the earth, bringing princes to naught; for scarcely are they planted, than you blow upon them and they whither. Such is your power, and therewith you deserve our faith and worship.
