Shouldering the Burden

Every year has its hardships, but 2017 has been especially difficult for so many people. In this Advent season, it's easy to romanticize the Christmas story, to be swept away by the shimmer of tinsel and the harmony of hallelujah choruses. But if we get down to the grit of the stable floor, Jesus entered humanity to address the hardships of this world. Renowned Christian writer, N.T. Wright had some good words to say about this in a Christmas Eve sermon he preached in 2006, called "Emperors and Angels":

Well, you may say, I didn’t expect to be told about empires and money and wars when I came to church tonight. I expected to hear lovely things that would make me feel good inside. But that’s the trouble with how we’ve treated Christmas these many years: we’ve screened out the emperors, and so we’ve missed the point of the angels. The Christmas story, like Isaiah’s prophecy, isn’t about an escape from the real world of politics and economics, of empires and taxes and bloodthirsty wars. It’s about God addressing these problems at last, from within, coming into our world – his world! – and shouldering the burden of authority, coming to deal with the problems of evil, of chaos and violence and oppression in all their horrible forms. And only when we look hard at those promises and come to grips with what they really mean are we able to grasp the real comfort and joy that Christmas does truly provide. Otherwise we are purchasing a spurious private comfort at the inflated cost of allowing the rest of the world to continue in its misery.

 Sometimes the Incarnation is so simple that we mess it up. As C.S. Lewis once said in his book, Miracles, "He [came] down to come up again and bring the whole ruined world up with Him." Jesus came to shoulder the burden.

"On Earth, Peace" a sermon by Michael Gerhling

I usually don't do guest posts--not because I don't want to, but because my focus has been on finding shorter poems and passages to share. Today is the exception. After reading Michael Gehrling's article for InterVarsity's The Well, I discovered he had a blog full of Christmas and Advent writings.  

The following is a sermon he gave at the Upper Room Presbyterian Church for Christmas Eve in 2013. Enjoy and be blessed by his words: 



“On Earth, Peace: A Homily for Christmas Eve”
by Michael Gerhling, co-pastor of The Upper Room Presbyterian Church, Pittsburgh, PA


Glory to God in the highest.
And on earth peace among those on whom his favor rests. 

We likely are well familiar with these words the angels speak to the Shepherds. When we read them, we may associate them with the voice of a pastor reading them in a church we attended, or with a choir singing them in a performance of Handel’s Messiah, or with the voice of Linus reciting them in the Peanuts Christmas special. 

They sound like words of worship – “Glory to God in the highest.”

And they sound like a nice greeting for angels to give to shepherds – “On earth, peace among those on whom his favor rests.” Peace (Shalom in Hebrew) was a common greeting in Israel. It still is. And so these words the angels speak sound typical. Like words of a nice greeting or well wishes. Not much different from saying “good morning” or “have a nice day” to a friend.

On earth, peace among those on whom his favor rests.

However, even this early in Luke’s story of Jesus (we’re only in chapter 2), we’ve learned that words spoken by angels have an uncanny propensity for becoming completely true.

Already an angel has promised Zechariah that he and his wife Elizabeth would give birth to John the Baptist. The angel Gabriel told Mary that she would give birth to Jesus. And now an angel has told shepherds that the Christ is born – news confirmed to be true by the time we finished reading our Scripture passage tonight. 

If angels say that there is peace on earth among those favored by God, we should probably expect it to be completely true. Not just a nice wish. Not just figuratively true. Not just ‘inner peace.’ But complete, 100% real peace on earth.

And that peace lives and abides among the favored people of God.

This afternoon, as I was finishing work on this sermon, I was sitting in the 61B cafe, where Chris works. Chris had actually just left and a new barista started her shift. Chris had been playing WYEP (91.3) on the radio, and the new barista turned it off. (I was disappointed because the DJ had just said they were going to play the Chipmunks Christmas song.) But then I was delighted by what I heard. Words and melody that were very familiar to me – the sound of a child singing, Once in Royal David’s city stood a lowly cattle shed…” 

I immediately knew that the barista was playing a recording of the annual Nine Lessons and Carols from Kings college.

I love that every year Kings College begins their Nine Lessons and Carols with a child singing Once in Royal David’s City. It bears witness to the fact that the coming of the Son of God, and the coming of peace on earth starts small. And it was striking that in a relatively busy cafe, where a number of people were sitting at tables doing their work, and others were ordering coffee, the message of good news of great joy once heralded by angels was piercing through the air.

I began to think to myself, “How many times is it possible for a hymn of praise to be played in a public, “secular” coffee shop?” The reality is Christmas is one of the few times it’s possible.
I then began to think about all that the Jesus’ birth makes possible.

The story of Jesus’s birth shows us that seeing angels, and experiencing the glory of the Lord shining around you, is just as likely to happen at your job (even a menial job that most people don’t want, like shepherding) as it is to happen in a church.

The story of Jesus’ birth shows us that the work of angels is also our work. Just as the angels proclaimed good news of great joy to the shepherds and then praised God saying “glory to God.” So too the shepherds made known the saying that had been told them, and returned to their homes glorifying and praising God.

The story of Jesus’ birth shows us that the savior of the world is approachable, relatable, and for us. The sign that the angels give to the shepherds, that they will find the baby Jesus “wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger” is considerably unremarkable. Wrapping a baby in swaddling clothes was the common practice in rural villages. And despite how out of the ordinary it sounds to us, in ancient Israel mangers were kept in the family room of a home, and always doubled as cribs. The point is this: The shepherds are told that the savior of the world is born, and will be found in a context that for them was entirely familiar and approachable. Imagine how difficult or intimidating it would be for the shepherds to visit Jesus if he were born in some exceptional way. If Jesus were born in a royal palace, he would have been inaccessible to shepherds and others on the lower rungs of society. But being wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger means that Jesus is accessible to all.

The story of Jesus’ birth tells us that peace on earth is possible and begins with the favored people of God; with us. We live in a world that is longing for peace. And a life of genuinely following Jesus, begets peace, and that is good news of great joy.

This year, on Facebook, the number one most posted-about topic around the world was Pope Francis. People found joy in the fact that the Pope was leading the church’s leadership to greater simplicity. People found joy when he invited a boy with down syndrome to ride with him in the Pope mobile. People found joy when he embraced and kissed a man with a genetic disorder. People found joy when he had a Maundy Thursday foot-washing service in a youth prison where he washed the feet of teenage prisoners. People found joy when he invited homeless men to join his birthday dinner celebration. And recently the media discovered evidence that Pope Francis might be sneaking out of the Vatican at night and personally giving money to the homeless and poor.

All that Pope Francis is doing are the things any follower of Jesus is supposed to do. And the world is receiving it as good news. That’s not to say that if and when we follow Jesus, we’ll make the news or be a buzz topic on social media. We’re not high-profile, public figures whom the world is watching. But it does show that any who do see us following Jesus will be seeing good news of great joy when we live a life of following Jesus. The coming of Jesus really is good news of great joy for all the people. And good news of great joy begets peace.

Friends, Christ is born this day. Let us join the angels and shepherds in glorying and praising God. And let us with the shepherds and the whole Church, tell and do all that we have seen and heard of our savior. For peace on earth has come. And it abides in us , for we are the favored people of God. 

Glory to God in the highest.
And on earth peace among those with whom he is well pleased.
Amen.

View this post its original form and see Michael's other work.

 

Not a Straight Line to Glory

Lately, I’ve been thinking about the concept of seeking something out vs. being called. In immigration history, there is the similar concept of Pull and Push. (For example, the German Jews who came to America before 1880 were pulled by the dream of a new life, as opposed to the Eastern European Jews who were very much pushed out of their countries by discrimination and conflict at the beginning of the 19^th Century).

In ancient Judea, Mary and Joseph (and womb-bound baby Jesus) were very much pushed away from Nazareth by the census of Caesar Augustus. The Magi, on the other hand, were pulled towards Bethlehem by their desire to understand the star’s significance. And we can’t forget the Shepherds. Their lives, also, were completely changed by a Call. As lonely and lowly sheep herders, I am sure they did not feel like they were living to their full potential. Yet God glorified and redeemed their calling, placing them in the perfect time and place to humbly receive the first good news about Jesus Christ.

Every single character ended up exactly where God needed them to be for the Christmas story to unfold as the centuries-old prophets had foretold!

Often when I am thinking on a concept like this, I will end up listening to a sermon which almost directly parallels or at least solidifies the idea. In those moments, I get a better glimpse of the way the Spirit works in our lives.

As I was traveling by bus to spend Thanksgiving with my family, I listened to such a sermon. It was a 1984 sermon by John Piper, the final installment of a four-part series on the book of Ruth entitled, “The Best is Yet to Come”. If you are at all familiar with these chapters of Scripture or the character of Ruth, you’ll know that so much of the book is a foreshadowing of Christ (who himself descended from Ruth’s very lineage—a genealogy which, in and of itself, tells so much about the nature of God!).

The main lesson of the sermon was this:

"The life of the godly is not a straight line to glory, but they do get there."

Piper draws this out with an analogy of driving on a mountain road with rockslides and hairpin turns that make you almost go backwards before you are able to move forward towards your destination. But along the way, there are signs to guide the way. He says,

“Ruth was written to help us see the signposts of the grace of God in our lives, and to help us trust his grace even when the clouds are so thick that we can't see the road let alone the signs on the side. Let's go back and remind ourselves that it was God who acted to turn each setback into a stepping stone to joy, and that it is God in all of our bitter providences who is plotting for our good.”

Ruth was pushed from Moab by hard, hard circumstances. But she was also pulled by a desire for Naomi’s God to be her God. The road was not straight, but the call on her life was clear. As Ruth’s story unfolds, the Lord redeems that which was lost, and in the end (a few centuries later), He brings ultimate Redemption through her line.

So this week, as we dwell on Peace—an easy word to say, but a difficult concept to hold on to—let us think on this: The whole of human history, with its winding and treacherous, pushed and pulled, often-going-backwards-in-order-to-go-forwards road, has been played out in order to give us the Prince of Peace.

For to us a child is born,
    to us a son is given,
    and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
    Wonderful Counselor,

    Mighty God,
    Everlasting Father,

    Prince of Peace.
 Of the greatness of his government and peace
    there will be no end.
He will reign on David’s throne
    and over his kingdom,
establishing and upholding it
    with justice and righteousness
    from that time on and forever.
The zeal of the Lord Almighty
    will accomplish this.

-Isaiah 9:6-7

The 4th Sunday of Advent: We are just like the shepherds

 And in the same region there were shepherds out in the field, 

keeping watch over their flock by night.  

And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, 

and they were filled with great fear.  And the angel said to them, 

“Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. 

For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.  

And this will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in 

swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.”  

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude 

of the heavenly host praising God and saying,

 “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!”

 

When the angels went away from them into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, 

“Let us go over to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, 

which the Lord has made known to us.”  

And they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in a manger.  

And when they saw it, they made known the saying 

that had been told them concerning this child.  

And all who heard it wondered at what the shepherds told them.  

But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart.  

And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising 

God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.

- Luke 2:8-20

This week I listened to a sermon by Matt Chandler (The Village Church). He focused on this passage, and opened by saying, "The only group that makes any sense in this narrative are the angels. It's not Mary and Joseph (broke peasants from Gaililee), and definitely not the dirty, nomadic shepherds. 

As far as heralds go, Mary and Joseph were not even in their home town, among family and friends to announce their new baby. God had to be their herald. And He "heralded" just as you would expect him to, by lighting up the sky with a choir of heavenly Angels. But his audience:  a gang of outcasts. The shepherds are the lowest of the low, most likely thieves and addicts, living on the outskirts of Bethlehem. This is the last thing they would ever expect to see. But the sky explodes and God shouts, "GOOD NEWS--for all people! And I'm going to start by telling you guys."

Chandler reminds us that "God brings glory to himself by being the power, authority and the presence by which all things happen. He calls among the weak and the lowly so that He is most glorified." The people God calls often don't make any sense to us, in human terms. We are bitter, liars, full of pride and contempt. But God does this as his way of saying, "Without me, you don't have a chance. Allow me to redeem and rescue. I will not go back on my promises, no matter how small."

And so the shepherds become the first to hear the GOOD NEWS. And the first to respond. After recovering from the biggest shock of their lives, they go and see this little baby, who the angels told them is CHRIST the LORD. They did not deserve this honor, not by any earthly standards. But the Lord of all Heaven is the One who chooses  who and what will bring Him glory.

Not a single one of us deserves to hear the Angels sing, "Good News of Great Joy!" We are just like the shepherds. Let us not keep our ears closed or our eyes to the ground.