One of my favorite preachers, Methodist Bishop Will
Willimon offers sobering reflection on his reaction to the terrorist attacks of
September 11, 2001:
On
9/11 I thought,For the most powerful, militarized nation in the world also
to think of itself as an innocent victim is deadly.It
was a rare prophetic moment for me, considering Presidents Bush and Obama have
spent billions asking the military to rectify the crime of a small band of
lawless individuals, destroying a couple of nations who had little to do with
it, in the costliest, longest series of wars in the history of the United
States.
The
silence of most Christians and the giddy enthusiasm of a few, as well as the
ubiquity of flags and patriotic extravaganzas in allegedly evangelical
churches, says to me that American Christians may look back upon our response
to 9/11 as our greatest Christological defeat. It was shattering to admit that
we had lost the theological means to distinguish between the United States and
the kingdom of God. The criminals who perpetrated 9/11 and the flag-waving
boosters of our almost exclusively martial response were of one mind: that the
nonviolent way of Jesus is stupid. All of us preachers share the shame; when
our people felt very vulnerable, they reached for the flag, not the Cross.
September
11 has changed me. I'm going to preach as never before about Christ crucified
as the answer to the question of what's wrong with the world. I have also
resolved to relentlessly reiterate from the pulpit that the worst day in
history was not a Tuesday in New York, but a Friday in Jerusalem when a
consortium of clergy and politicians colluded to run the world on our own terms
by crucifying God's own Son. (From Christianity
Today via Scot
McKnight)
My hope is that tomorrow preachers will follow Paul's example,
And when I came to you brothers, I did not come with rhetorical flair or wisdom while proclaiming the mystery of God. For I determined to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, the crucified one. I came in weakness, fear and excessive trembling. My speech and my message were not persuasive wise words, but a demonstration of the Spirit and power, so that your faith might not be in wisdom of men but in the power of God.
Though we do speak wisdom among the mature. It's not a wisdom of this age nor of the rulers of this age (those being brought to nothing). No, we speak the wisdom of God shrouded in mystery, which God predestined before the ages for our glory. It is the wisdom that none of the rulers of this age knew. For if they had known, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory (1 Corinthians 2.1-8 my translation)
Whatever your political leanings or national affiliation, please remember that tomorrow is about the Crucified King. Any message that tells a story of revenge or justifies killing people in the name of "justice" is just perpetuating the same wisdom of this age. That's not the wisdom of God. The wisdom of God is a Crucified King.
Preachers do not love Christmas. Some, in fact, dislike it very much. In the gloriously difficult and delightful work of preaching, Christmas can become a burden. Most of the preachers I know struggle with Christmas sermons and eventually despise having to write them. Every year for at least one week, sermons are devoted to the birth of Jesus. How can preachers consider it anything but a tremendous privilege to tell Christmas stories?
As I was recently reflecting on how to preach a new Christmas sermon, I began to think of the passages which focus on the birth of Jesus. The list is short. We only find mention of Jesus' birth in Matthew 1-2, Luke 1-2, Romans 1.3, Galatians 4.4, Phil 2.7, John 1.1-18 and Revelation 12.1-17. I was immediately struck by two things.
The first thing I noticed is that passages about Jesus' birth are scarce. Mark's gospel ignores the birth of Jesus altogether. Paul's mention of the birth serves to identify Jesus with the royal line of David (Rom 1.3), describe God's apocalyptic adoption of all humanity through Jesus (Gal 4.4), and highlight his role as a servant being born in "human likeness" (Phil 2.7). Not usually the themes of Christmas sermons. None of Paul's descriptions of Jesus' birth care to mention that Mary was a virgin or even indicate that Paul knew the tradition. While Matthew and Luke devote significant attention to the birth of Jesus, they are unique among the NT writers in doing so.
The second observation that stuck out to me, was that not only are the stories rare but each of them is unique. John's prologue (Jn 1.1-18) is a theological treatise on the incarnation. John ruminates over the significance of the divine Logos, light and life, becoming flesh. The apocalyptic narrative of Revelation 12, is as Mike Bird described it, "the nativity story directed by Quentin Tarantino." In characteristic apocalyptic drama, John's apocalypse unveils the cosmic forces at work in the birth. It is both gruesome and profound. These theological reflections on Jesus' birth are almost un-recognizably different from how we normally think, sing and story Christmas.
Usually, we know the story from Luke. This is probably thanks to Charlie Brown Christmas and a proclivity for Luke's more joyful sing-songy version of the story. Luke's retelling, almost exclusively focused on Mary's perspective, highlights the joy of a new mother coinciding with the arrival of salvation for the world. The male priest Zechariah serves as a narrative foil of foolishness (Lk 1.8-23), highlighting the faithful service of the young virgin Mary (Lk 1.26-38). Mary sings a song about the glorious God who saves (Lk 1.46-55). The lowly shepherds share in the heavenly worship offered to the savior wrapped in swaddling cloth and placed in manger (Lk 2.8-20). The story is overflowing with joy and celebration. It is a story certainly worthy of song.
Matthew's story, focused on Joseph's perspective, is a little more mystical and adult than Luke's. Matthew has Mary almost dismissed by Joseph under the suspicion of infidelity (Mt 1.19), the murderous tyrant Herod kills infants and leaves bereaved mothers wailing (Mt 2.16-18). The baby Jesus barely escapes Herod's death decree with his life (Mt 2.13-15). Mystically, Matthew's birth narrative is filled with angels (Mt 1.20-24; 2.13; 2.19-20), a celestial star-guide (Mt 2.2), prophetic dreams (Mt 1.20-24; 2:12, 13; 2.19-20) and fulfillment of OT scripture (Mt 2.5-6 [Mic 5.2]; 2:15 [Hos 11.1]; 2:17-18 [Jer 31.15]; 2:23 [?]). Matthew's version of the story is much darker and filled with anticipation. It is a story told to people who need the hope of a savior to who comes to a world as dangerous and difficult as theirs.
How could preachers not find plenty of material to retell the old story in a new and exciting way each year? One the one sympathetic hand, I think preachers are constrained by expectations. If there isn't a nativity and carols around Christmas, then congregations feel slighted. It can be difficult for people to see the story from a different angle. Also, it's just not easy to be creative week after week, year after year. On the other (self)-condemning hand, preachers are sometimes too lazy or busy to reflect deeply on the depth and diversity of the story. Why do NT writers describe the birth of Jesus so differently? I think there are quite a few good sermons in that one question. What is the significance of incarnation for Christian theology? I imagine that such a question could occupy a good pulpit for years. I am even willing to guess there is a Christmas sermon from Mark if we're willing to read his opening scene with an OT in hand.
Perhaps what is needed is the flexibility and creativity to tell Christmas stories that speak anew. I wonder, which Christmas story speaks most directly to you this holiday season? Why?
