Kathy and I have kept a fairly low profile these past few days, enjoying the peace of a quiet Christmas in the farmhouse with only a few excursions. We've delighted in watching the birds voraciously consume the black sunflower seeds and suet blocks set out for their good pleasure, and we've had fun cooking and watching movies while Jill was here for a few days.
But yesterday, with the brilliance of a sunny day vanquishing the bleak mid-winter for a time, we ventured out to attend to some errands. It was an interesting time of transition in Fayetteville, as I suspect it was in most cities. Many folks have already turned from Christmas, with all its accoutrement of capitalized garments, having participated in the build-up for weeks prior to Christmas Day, then observing something of a "drive-through" experience of Christmas itself. But I observed others about town--a smaller segment, to be sure--who were hanging on to the Christmas spirit of glad tidings, good will and great joy.
The contrast between the two groups led me to ponder a bit about the Occupy Wall Street movement that has managed to find expressions across myriad towns in America, including here in Fayetteville, and seems to be hanging on, if by a thread, and by smaller groups than the teeming masses of last fall. It has been said that the movement is poorly organized, chaotic, and facing enormous odds against the imperial/economic forces set on preserving the status quo. All of that is true in my estimation. And yet, there are some who remain hopeful, despite the odds against bringing about real reform.
It occurred to me that there is something analogous in this season of Christmas--and I do mean Season--twelve days which have only just begun. Nearly a fortnight to revel in the spirit of Christmas, which at its heart is not capitalist in nature; rather, it is weak, tender, humble and hopeful that God is up to something, even here and now. And in the story which we retell--of a baby born in a stable to parents who were surely bewildered by the whole affair and disillusioned by their lot in life--perhaps we can say that the coming of a baby Jesus was poorly organized, chaotic, and faced enormous odds against the imperial/economic forces set on preserving the status quo.
Could we say that the true gift of Christmas (the gift of "God-with-us") is at once universal yet marginalized in its coming? Feeble and uncertain, and yet subversively powerful in profound ways? Could we say that Christmas is, in some way, an "Occupy Immanuel?" Perhaps that is an unsettling image for some of us, but we should be wary of efforts to domesticate God in ways that preserve worldly power and dominion. Christmas and the coming of Christ into the world was (and is) a subversive act of radical love.
This is the fourth day of Christmas--a day on which the Church remembers the Holy Innocents, recalling the dreadful deed done by King Herod who ordered all baby boys in Bethlehem to be killed in order that one among them might not survive to be the real king of his people. (Read the story here). It is a sobering reminder that the world is broken, and that the world has always had powerful people who abused their power at the expense and great suffering of others. There is another way.
How we work for change and effect it is certainly open for debate, but surely we can agree that the world (our world) is in desperate need of God's loving presence in our midst, and that Christmas is an occasion to remember that God has offered that presence, if from the margins, in a lowly stable. It takes more than a day to unwrap and appreciate such a marvelous gift. It takes more than a few days to see how such a gift might just change the world.
O Come, O Come, Immanuel.
Occupy this world, Immanuel, and inspire us to work with you and make it a better place.
But yesterday, with the brilliance of a sunny day vanquishing the bleak mid-winter for a time, we ventured out to attend to some errands. It was an interesting time of transition in Fayetteville, as I suspect it was in most cities. Many folks have already turned from Christmas, with all its accoutrement of capitalized garments, having participated in the build-up for weeks prior to Christmas Day, then observing something of a "drive-through" experience of Christmas itself. But I observed others about town--a smaller segment, to be sure--who were hanging on to the Christmas spirit of glad tidings, good will and great joy.
The contrast between the two groups led me to ponder a bit about the Occupy Wall Street movement that has managed to find expressions across myriad towns in America, including here in Fayetteville, and seems to be hanging on, if by a thread, and by smaller groups than the teeming masses of last fall. It has been said that the movement is poorly organized, chaotic, and facing enormous odds against the imperial/economic forces set on preserving the status quo. All of that is true in my estimation. And yet, there are some who remain hopeful, despite the odds against bringing about real reform.
It occurred to me that there is something analogous in this season of Christmas--and I do mean Season--twelve days which have only just begun. Nearly a fortnight to revel in the spirit of Christmas, which at its heart is not capitalist in nature; rather, it is weak, tender, humble and hopeful that God is up to something, even here and now. And in the story which we retell--of a baby born in a stable to parents who were surely bewildered by the whole affair and disillusioned by their lot in life--perhaps we can say that the coming of a baby Jesus was poorly organized, chaotic, and faced enormous odds against the imperial/economic forces set on preserving the status quo.
Could we say that the true gift of Christmas (the gift of "God-with-us") is at once universal yet marginalized in its coming? Feeble and uncertain, and yet subversively powerful in profound ways? Could we say that Christmas is, in some way, an "Occupy Immanuel?" Perhaps that is an unsettling image for some of us, but we should be wary of efforts to domesticate God in ways that preserve worldly power and dominion. Christmas and the coming of Christ into the world was (and is) a subversive act of radical love.
This is the fourth day of Christmas--a day on which the Church remembers the Holy Innocents, recalling the dreadful deed done by King Herod who ordered all baby boys in Bethlehem to be killed in order that one among them might not survive to be the real king of his people. (Read the story here). It is a sobering reminder that the world is broken, and that the world has always had powerful people who abused their power at the expense and great suffering of others. There is another way.
How we work for change and effect it is certainly open for debate, but surely we can agree that the world (our world) is in desperate need of God's loving presence in our midst, and that Christmas is an occasion to remember that God has offered that presence, if from the margins, in a lowly stable. It takes more than a day to unwrap and appreciate such a marvelous gift. It takes more than a few days to see how such a gift might just change the world.
O Come, O Come, Immanuel.
Occupy this world, Immanuel, and inspire us to work with you and make it a better place.
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