So says Matthew in today’s gospel. From that kind of an opening one would expect a dry, factual account to follow. But there is so much humanity, emotion and imagery in this story of how this one birth changed the world. Yet, one cannot read or hear this account without wondering. After all it is, along with the first two chapters of Luke, one of only two accounts of Jesus’ birth. Both were written near the end of the first century. Earlier writers, including Paul, do not refer to a special birth of Jesus. Yet it is a story that resonates deeply for many people, over and over again, year after year. Marcus Borg, an American theologian, quotes the 13th Century mystic and theologian Meister Eckhart who, in one of his Christmas sermons, speaks of the birth of Jesus in this way: ” the virgin birth (is) something that happens within us. That is, the story of the virgin birth is the story of Christ being born within us through the union of the Spirit of God with our flesh. Ultimately, the story of Jesus’ birth is not just about the past, but about the internal birth in us in the present.” Our advertising driven society tries to turn Christmas into a day that mainly has to do with consumption. In this scenario we get together with our families, exchange material items and consume huge quantities of food and then probably collapse on the sofa and sleep for the rest of the day. There isn’t anything wrong with this, in itself. But this day isn’t a day merely of consumption and consumerism. It is far more. It is a day where all that is done in it is done mindful of and with an eye toward receiving the tremendous gift that is given on this day.
One of my priest friends in Canada has said that she hears a lot of comments around Christmas time that all have the same general theme to them.
Comments like:
“Christmas is not what it used to be.”
“There’s not much to Christmas anymore.”
“Christmas really is just for children, you know.” Perhaps you’ve heard people say such things, or indeed, perhaps you’ve said them yourselves. There is a sense of disappointment in such comments. A sense of something lost and a yearning to recapture something magical. What was it–what is it that makes Christmas so magical and special? Is it the presents? The lovely decorations at home and in the church? Is it the sumptuous meals most of us will be leaving this service today to feast over? Is it the time spent with family and friends? While all of these things have the potential to become entirely about consumption and consumerism a common thread running through all of these things, at some level however hidden and obscured, is a sense of hope. And that hope comes from the story that we hear at Christmas year in and year out. A story that some argue is literally word for word true while others say it is only true as metaphor. The comments of many of my friend’s parishioners has caused her to think again about the essential core of what Christmas is about. And she believes, as I’m sure we all do, that “Christmas is about the gift of love. It is about God’s love for us and for the whole world. (In fact) Christmas is about a love so great that it fills all time and all space, a love so vast that it can never be fully grasped by human minds. Yet it is so accessible that it can be touched by human hands and tenderly embraced in human arms. Christmas is about love that can never be contained or limited, yet can be fully, wondrously present in human lives and in human relationships.”
There is a story about two psychologists, a husband and wife, who went on vacation to the south of Spain. One hot afternoon, while lounging by the pool, a young girl appeared next to them–seemingly out of nowhere. She told them her name and proudly proclaimed that she was seven. She was a very forthright and friendly sort of child.
The husband was a matter-of-fact kind of guy and had a habit of asking, shall we say, “to-the- point” questions. So he looked at this little girl and said to her, “Tell me, what is life all about?” The girl thought for a moment and said, “The purpose of life is to be kind and loving; to be here for other people, to make the world a better place than before you came.” The husband sat up in his chair and his wife asked, “Where did you learn that? From your parents?”
“Oh no,” said the girl
“Ah, it was in school then.”
“No.”
“At church?”
“Uh, no.”
“Well,” said the wife, “where did you learn such things?” The girl smiled and said, “I just knew them before I came here.”
Surely, if Meister Eckhart is right that the story of Jesus’ birth is the story of Christ being born within us then one of the things that happens every Christmas is that this story cuts through the consumerism and consumption to touch the core of our being–the place where we learn again the love that we “just knew before we came here.” Amen.
Terrance Bell
TEXTS: Isaiah 62:1-5 & Matthew 1:18-25