Christmas Day, Year A (December 25, 2022) The Rev. Karen C. Barfield
Christmas Day II, Yr A (2022) The Rev. Karen C. Barfield
Luke 2:(1-7)8-20 St. Andrew’s on-the-Hill
In the name of the one, holy, and living God:
who was, and is, and is to come! Amen.
Clearing
by Martha Postlewaite
Do not try to save
the whole world
or do anything grandiose.
Instead, create
a clearing
in the dense forest
of your life
and wait there patiently,
until the song
that is your life
falls into your own cupped hands
and you recognize and greet it.
Only then will you know
how to give yourself
to this world
so worth of rescue.
There was no room for them in the inn.
Why not?
The Emperor Augustus was busy flexing his political muscles,
ordering that all the world, no less,
should be registered so that his empire could rake in more taxes
and make sure that all the people who were eligible to serve in his powerful army would,
in fact, serve.
So, the roads were filled with travelers and the towns packed to the gills.
(I doubt they had much of an advanced reservation system in those days.)
So…when Mary and Joseph arrived,
having likely been outpaced as a 9-month pregnant woman,
there was no room for them.
And then at the most inopportune moment,
the time came for her to give birth.
Snagging the only available option,
they took shelter in a cave
and placed little Jesus in the animals’ feeding trough.
Sensing new and fragile life,
the animals likely stepped aside,
making room
for a family who had found none.
Perhaps one reason we are so drawn to Luke’s account of Jesus’ birth
is that there is a deep undercurrent of Peace…
a Peace and a space that we often lack.
Thomas Merton so aptly describes our situation:
“We live in the time of no room….
The time when everyone is obsessed with lack of time,
lack of space,
with saving time,
conquering space….
“The primordial blessing, ‘increase and multiply,’
has suddenly become a hemorrhage of terror.
“We are numbered in billions, and massed together, marshaled, numbered, marched here and there, taxed, drilled, armed, worked to the point of insensibility, dazed by information, drugged by entertainment, surfeited with everything, nauseated with the human race and with ourselves, nauseated with life.
“As the end approaches, there is no room for nature.
The cities crowd it off the face of the earth.
“As the end approaches,
there is no room for quiet.
“There is no room for solitude.
“There is no room for thought.
“There is no room for attention,
for the awareness of our state.
“In the time of the ultimate end,
there is no room for [humankind].”
(Merton, “The Time of No Room” in Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas, pp. 275-6).
Have you ever noticed in the midst of the hubbub and chaos of this Gospel story
as well as within the hubbub and chaos of our own lives at this time of year…
where God shows up?
God shows up in the out-of-the-way feeding trough
and in the out-of-the-way field in the middle of the darkness to nomad shepherds…
and in the out-of-the-way Mary, who treasures the words of the shepherds
and ponders them in the silence of her heart.
God seems to show up when most people are looking the other direction.
God shows up when just two or three gather to pray.
God shows up when we are quiet enough to take notice of the world around us…
when that still, small voice speaks in the silence.
In the midst of the busy-ness of Bethlehem
when the shepherds came to see the baby Jesus and report what had happened,
all who heard it were amazed…
amazed at the radical in-breaking of God.
All were amazed…
except for Mary,
who treasured these words
and pondered them in her heart.
Within Mary,
there is room.
There is room to hold the tension of new birth in lonely and frightening circumstances.
There is room to hold the tension of her fear of what it might mean for her
to bear and raise the Messiah,
the Holy One of God.
Would she be called upon to protect him from enemies?
Might the Emperor seek to take the life of a rival?
Might Mary be required to interpose her body between her beautiful son
and those wielding power?
Might Mary have to stand aside and watch her son be crucified?
Might she one day at the end of his life seek once more to caress his body
as she is now?
Within Mary,
there is room.
There is room in her heart to bear the tension of this fear for her son’s life
along with the hope and joy that God’s promises of redeeming the world
through this tender child just might be true.
Oftentimes for us,
it is difficult in this fast-paced and demanding world
to make room to hold the tensions of our lives and of the world.
And yet,
along with Mary,
this is what we are called to do.
We are called to hold the tension of our fears and hopes in the stillness of our hearts.
Perhaps we like to resolve the conflicts we face as quickly as possible,
but it might just be that the best way forward
is to watch and wait and pray for God’s guidance and Peace…
knowing that God is with us
and that God is fulfilling God’s promises
to make us and the world whole once again.
While we witness the sufferings of our world and even our own lives,
we live in the hope of God’s redeeming Grace.
So, on this most holy day, let us celebrate with Mary and the shepherds
that God comes among us sometimes in dark and lonely places,
sometimes in places of great celebration.
Whatever the case, we are never alone.
God is with us, fulfilling God’s promises of new life.
Let us ponder with Mary the Good News that to us is born this day a Savior…
the Messiah,
the Lord.
Do not try to save
the whole world
or do anything grandiose.
Instead, create
a clearing
in the dense forest
of your life
and wait there patiently,
until the song
that is your life
falls into your own cupped hands
and you recognize and greet it.
Only then will you know
how to give yourself
to this world
so worth of rescue.
Amen.
