The First Christmas

For the first time in many years I attended a Christmas Eve worship service not as a professional functionary but rather as a worshiper—a layperson as it were. I must admit that it felt somewhat strange to sit out amongst the congregation with no responsibilities and with nothing to do. Deep down I expected to hear a voice say to me: “Get up and go say a prayer!” But no voice was heard. I was off the hook for sure.

So I entered into the flow of worship, along with about 2500 other worshipers. The church we attended was one of the megachurches near our new home. It was definitely conservatively Evangelical with hip looking musicians pumping out rock versions of Christmas tunes. If I recall we sang about four songs standing and one sitting. We did sing Silent Night.

Then in the middle of the service, just prior to the sermon, ushers passed out two little disposable plastic cups. One contained grape juice and the other an almost microscopic size piece of hard bread. We were told to drink from the cup and eat the tiny piece of bread. Yes there were some “holy” words spoken but for the life of me I cannot remember what was said. I turned to my wife and asked: “Did we just celebrated the Eucharist?” She whispered back: “Now don’t be critical.”

Then the message, which was communicated quite well with enough humor to hold our interest and just enough seriousness to make it pass as a bonafide Evangelical sermon. It wasn’t bad. The pastor came across as being approachable and was confidently passionate in what he believed. “I probably would enjoy having lunch with this guy” I thought to myself, “and talk to him about why we had Communion in the middle of worship.”

So what did he believe? Well he believed that Jesus’ whole purpose for being born was to become our “personal” Savior. He made this very clear. In other words, the main reason God sent Jesus into this world was to provide us with a personal Savior who would give anyone who believes in him everlasting life. That’s the real big gift of Christmas and “it’s the reason for the season” so they say.

Now who would argue with such an explanation for the meaning of Jesus’ birth? Certainly there is truth in this understanding of why Jesus was born. But I wonder if this emphasis on the so-called “personal Savior” theme reflects our own cultural traditions of consumerism and individualism more than the Gospel traditions handed down to us in Matthew and Luke in the New Testament?

In other words, when we hear the Christmas story repeated each year in churches across America what do we actually hear? Does the story actually reflect the original purpose of Matthew and Luke in their telling of the birth of Jesus or does it reflect our own obsession with consumerism and individualism in this country? I suspect it is the latter.

Do we realize that the original stories of Jesus’ birth in Matthew and Luke were actually stories subverting the Empire of Rome (Matthew) and the way poor, marginalized people, and women were being treated in Jesus’ time (Luke)? Do we realize that the only two birth stories in the New Testament are vastly different from one another and each was intended to address the political and social issues of the time? Would it be too much to ask American Christians to look into the historical context in which Matthew and Luke were written and ask a really important question: “How did those first Christians understand the Christmas stories in Matthew and Luke?”

Yes Jesus is the Savior of the world, but he is much more than just my personal Savior whom I can possess for myself (consumerism). There is no danger or risk in this insipid understanding of the Gospel. Jesus said: “Follow me!” But his command was not to follow him into heaven once this life is finished, but rather to follow him into this dangerous and hostile world as his disciples. By following him it is implied that one will live as Jesus lived and taught, which often stood opposed to the standard ways in which the world operates.

I would like to recommend to you a great little book entitled The First Christmas: What the Gospel’s Really Teach About Jesus’ Birth by Marcus J. Borg and John Dominic Crossan. I guarantee you that once you read this explanation of the original Christmas Story you will never hear that story in the same way again—ever!

Snobbery, Buffoonery, and the Third Way

I have never warmed to elitism, whether it is religious, political, or social. There is just something about the elitist spirit that is a big turn off for me. People who are born well to do or religious folks who are well educated or those living in well maintained gated communities have no good reason to be elitists. As the old saying goes: “We all put on our jeans one leg at a time.”

Elitism smacks of privilege and an I-am-better-than-you, I-know-more-than-you attitude. There’s a word in the American lexicon for such an attitude: Snobbery.

On the other hand I also disdain the dumb-it-down, black-and-white philosophy of Joe Six Pack and his beer drinking bubbas. People who live in this arena of life always appear so cocksure of their worldview (as if they know something educated folks don’t know). One knows precisely where one stands because the big issues in life are not nuanced but are clearly defined in either/or categories.

There’s a word in the American lexicon for this way of thinking as well: Buffoonery.

Okay, I admit that I may have just offended a lot of people but please know that I’m not suggesting all educated well-to-do people are snobs, nor am I suggesting that all uneducated not-so-well-off people are buffoons. That would be a serious mistake on my part and could quite easily place me squarely in the snobbish category.

Look, there are some really bright people who act like buffoons and there are some really not-so-smart people whose common sense makes up for their lack of raw intelligence—and their good folks to boot. Such is the irony of life in America these days. But there is a dark side to this irony: There are really smart people today who are duping many Americans with a buffoon-like ideology based on an either/or view of reality. Yes elitists think in either/or categories too.

It’s a dumb it down form of political problem solving that appeals to those who cannot or choose not to see complexity and nuance as major components of the hot button issues we face today.

No, life is not black and white and there are no easy answers that are going to solve all the problematic issues of the day: Issues such as immigration, the threat of ISIS, gun control, abortion, and homeland security. Any one of these issues is multidimensional and multifaceted.

For example, we may all agree that immigration is problematic (some more than for others) but the answer to the dilemma is not building literal walls to keep illegals out of the country, nor is it feasible to open up the borders and allow anyone who chooses to walk in and set up shop. Such dualism divides rather than unites us towards the Common Good.
Nor can we resolve the ISIS problem by carpet-bombing them and thus killing innocent civilians. We also cannot ignore the threat ISIS presents the United States by simply sticking our head in the sand. Neither of these dualistic impulses will work.

Shutting down all abortion or defunding Family Planning will not solve the moral dilemma this issue creates for us, nor is lifting all restrictions on abortions an acceptable moral solution. So we have a conundrum that is not going to be solved with either/or thinking. There are just too many factors involved in this issue that must be considered.

We cannot solve gun violence in this country by taking away everyone’s guns (which isn’t likely to happen). We once attempted to deal with alcoholism by making the sale and use of alcohol illegal (which is similar to wanting to take people’s guns from them) and we all know where that led us. Nor can we cave in to second amendment hardliners’ threats and bullying whenever it is suggested that there must be effective gun control legislation passed in this country.

Regardless of where one stands on this issue no one is going to convince me that one’s right to own a gun is more sacred than the protection of innocent lives, especially our school children. Yet the solution may not be as simple as removing all guns from our society anymore than removing any and all restrictions on guns sales and gun use. This kind of dualistic problem solving is self-defeating in my estimation. There is common ground in this debate beyond digging in our heels to protect our preferred position on the issue.

Let us reason together in this season of sound bites and over used political clichés as we find ourselves choosing up sides in each of these hot potato issues. Let us tone down the inflammatory rhetoric often used by politicians and activists alike. These difficult issues are not going to be solved (if ever completely solved) by shouting at our opponents, or resorting to name-calling, or by scapegoating, or by demonizing those who do not share our views or political affiliation. Blaming our social ills on the Liberals or the Conservatives no longer is helpful—it simply does not work. It’s old school that is ineffective.

Let us practice the third way of reasoned debate, of a thoughtful exchange of ideas, and a mature approach to problem solving as we work together for the Common Good. Let us attempt to work on one of our most harmful addictions as a human race: The addiction of being right!

War: Why I Care

            Author Daniel Clendenin (Ph.D.) writes thought provoking essays on the weekly readings of the Revised Common Lectionary. Read this week’s essay at: http://www.journeywithjesus.net/. I have always found Clendenin’s essays insightful and sometimes I harvest great sermon ideas from reading them. This week’s essay is perhaps one of the best I’ve read, simply because it is so timely. The title caught my eye: “I’m Already Against the Next War: War and Violence, Sacred and Secular.” Clendenin’s opening words leapt off the page at me: “The fourth of July will see many jet fly-overs at parades and baseball games. I find these displays of military might technologically awesome but morally repulsive.” I agree!

Today a well-intentioned email showed up in my inbox pointing out that nine U. S. Marines were killed in a four-day span in Afghanistan. These casualties were members of the 2^nd battalion, fifth Marines.  The person who sent the email asked us to pass it on as a way to honor these fallen Marines, since the tragedy is not being reported in the mainstream media. Then she said, “Because no one seems to care.” Well I do care even though I rarely forward these kinds of emails out of respect for other people’s overly full inboxes.  

            I care about these young Marines whose ages range from twenty-three to twenty-nine years old (according to the email), all of which were way too young to die. I care because such deaths are the harsh consequences of real war and not the sanitized versions we often see on television or at the movie theatres. Ironically those who have never experienced firsthand the chaos and brutality of war are often the biggest supporters of our nation’s conflicts. Yet I know those who have experienced combat up close and personal and have become strident opponents of war and are some of our most energetic spokespersons for peace.

            Yet I care for another reason. I care because of what war does to our youngest and most cherished treasures. As the late William Sloan Coffin, chaplain of Yale University, once said: “War turns some boys into men; and it turns others into animals.” We should not be surprised when we hear news reports of American soldiers urinating on Afghan corpses, or American soldiers burning the Muslim holy book in a garbage dump, or reports of an American staff sergeant who massacred seventeen civilians in two Afghan villages, including the children, or the brutal practice of torturing Muslim prisoners of war. Such practices remind me of what the late New Testament scholar Walter Wink said: We become our enemy.

            But I suppose the biggest reason I care is that war, especially over a prolonged period of time, deadens our sensitivities to its very horrors. Unfortunately nine Marines dying in Afghanistan is no longer newsworthy, but just another day at the office. I care because I witness a nation that has romanticized war under the mantra of fighting to protect American Democracy or American freedoms. I care because less than 1% of the American population serve in the military and those who don’t have come to assume that war is just a part of everyday life for America. I care because America seems to have lost her moral compass and believes that the kid with the biggest gun on the playground has the right to impose his will on weaker boys.

            But in the words of author Andrew Bacevich, our idolatrous love of the military “pervades our national consciousness and perverts our national policies.” In other words, being the world’s only super power has inflated our national ego and has given us a false sense of superiority relative to the rest of the world. Clendenin is right; some wars have to be fought as a last resort (e.g., WW II). But I have higher hopes for humanity. I have deep respect for those who serve in the military and willingly fight our nations wars. I have less respect for the politicians who wage war yet never personally fight in the very wars they start; nor are they or be honest enough to admit to the real reasons why we went to war in the first place. Claiming American interests are at stake is getting old and less convincing.

            I close with a question Clendenin asks at the end of his essay, a question that should haunt all peace loving followers of the Prince of Peace: “How do we honor the sacrifices made by our soldiers while dissenting from military ideology?” This should be the burden of us all. God bless America—God transform America—God save America!