For The Time Being

 

Poet W.H. Auden wrote For the Time Being: A Christmas Oratorio in 1941 and 42 in war-torn England.
For over fifty Christmases I have read this poem - sometimes to myself, sometimes with family, sometimes with congregations I have served.  Needless to say, it speaks to me in a profound way.  And I share it here with you that you might find some inspiration.
 
Well, so that is that. Now we must dismantle the tree,
Putting the decorations back into their cardboard boxes --
Some have got broken -- and carrying them up to the attic.

 
The holly and the mistletoe must be taken down and burnt,
And the children got ready for school. There are enough
Left-overs to do, warmed-up, for the rest of the week --
Not that we have much appetite, having drunk such a lot,
Stayed up so late, attempted -- quite unsuccessfully --
To love all of our relatives, and in general
Grossly overestimated our powers. Once again
As in previous years we have seen the actual Vision and failed
To do more than entertain it as an agreeable
Possibility, once again we have sent Him away,
Begging though to remain His disobedient servant,
The promising child who cannot keep His word for long.

The Christmas Feast is already a fading memory,
And already the mind begins to be vaguely aware
Of an unpleasant whiff of apprehension at the thought
Of Lent and Good Friday which cannot, after all, now
Be very far off. But, for the time being, here we all are,
Back in the moderate Aristotelian city
Of darning and the Eight-Fifteen, where Euclid's geometry
And Newton's mechanics would account for our experience,
And the kitchen table exists because I scrub it.
It seems to have shrunk during the holidays. The streets
Are much narrower than we remembered; we had forgotten
The office was as depressing as this. To those who have seen
The Child, however dimly, however incredulously,
The Time Being is, in a sense, the most trying time of all.
For the innocent children who whispered so excitedly
Outside the locked door where they knew the presents to be
Grew up when it opened. Now, recollecting that moment
We can repress the joy, but the guilt remains conscious;
Remembering the stable where for once in our lives
Everything became a You and nothing was an It.
And craving the sensation but ignoring the cause,
We look round for something, no matter what, to inhibit
Our self-reflection, and the obvious thing for that purpose
Would be some great suffering. So, once we have met the Son,
We are tempted ever after to pray to the Father;
"Lead us into temptation and evil for our sake."
They will come, all right, don't worry; probably in a form
That we do not expect, and certainly with a force
More dreadful than we can imagine. In the meantime
There are bills to be paid, machines to keep in repair,
Irregular verbs to learn, the Time Being to redeem
From insignificance. The happy morning is over,
The night of agony still to come; the time is noon:
When the Spirit must practice his scales of rejoicing
Without even a hostile audience, and the Soul endure
A silence that is neither for nor against her faith
That God's Will will be done, That, in spite of her prayers,
God will cheat no one, not even the world of its triumph.

IV
Chorus

He is the Way.
Follow Him through the Land of Unlikeness;
You will see rare beasts, and have unique adventures.

He is the Truth.
Seek Him in the Kingdom of Anxiety;
You will come to a great city that has expected your return for years.

He is the Life.
Love Him in the World of the Flesh;
And at your marriage all its occasions shall dance for joy.

-- W. H. Auden

Our Own Story of Christmas

 

Isaiah 52:7-10
John 1:1-14

So, it's almost Christmas.  For us in the church, this is the Fourth Sunday of Advent – a time for us to contemplate why we celebrate Christmas anyway.
Again, this year, during these weeks before Christmas, we have been looking at the very earliest documents we have to ascertain just how those earliest Christians celebrated Christmas –
hoping to find clues as to how we might have a better understanding and actually experience a better Christmas this year.

The first week of Advent, we looked at the very earliest writings we have –
the letters of Paul and some of the writings that were found in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Nag Hammadi and other places in the desert country of Egypt and Syria and Palestine,
and the very earliest Gospel in our Bible:
the Gospel of Mark – which was published around the year 70.

We actually have several texts now that were published during these early  years – during the first 75 years or so after Jesus was killed.
And, look as we may, it is obvious that none of these texts say anything at all about the birth of Jesus.  It just was not important to them.

Yes, Jesus was a pivotal figure in their history,
yes, Jesus was a pivotal figure in their faith,
yes, Jesus was a pivotal figure in their life experience – in their understanding of who they were and what they to do.
Clearly, they each articulate a faith that in Jesus, they saw God incarnate – God in the flesh – for them,  Jesus was Emmanuel – God with us.

The second week we looked at the second Gospel, the Gospel of Matthew, published some 15 years after Mark, and intended for a somewhat different audience.
Matthew begins his Gospel with a detailed genealogy setting Jesus firmly in the Jewish camp – a descendent of King David,
and even Father Abraham, himself.

In the 15 years between Mark and Matthew an interest in birth stories had developed.
Matthew’s community wanted to believe that their Jesus was no less a god than the mighty Caesar or any of the other gods they encountered among the cosmopolitan culture of the Roman Empire.
Every other god had a miraculous birth story to show their specialness, so, Jesus should have one, too.

The Gospel of Luke is the third Gospel of the collection in our Bible.
It was published some 15 years after Matthew.
And, again, it was intended for a different audience than Mark or Matthew.

Again, we are reminded that during these early years, indeed, for the first 100 to 150 years, there was no separate Christian church.
There were Jews who believed that Jesus was the Messiah and revered as Emmanuel – God with Us – and they would meet as small groups –
sometimes even sharing meals and resources and living arrangements –
but, when they worshiped, they went to the Temple.

We see Luke being addressed primarily to a predominately gentile audience to show that belief in Jesus in Emmanuel conflicted in no way with their ability to serve as good citizens of the Roman Empire.

And, we see that each of the Gospels have a very different starting place.
Matthew starts very differently than Mark does – again with that long genealogy.
And Luke starts differently than either Mark or Matthew does with that miraculous birth story – not of Jesus, but of John.
And, here in the Gospel of John, we have an even stranger beginning.

Most scholars agree now that this Gospel of John was published around 110 years after the death of Jesus.
Clearly this Gospel was addressed to people under stress –
there was a conflict between the communities of believers in Jesus as Messiah
and the communities of believers in John as Messiah;
and there was a widening rift between these communities of Jesus believers and the other believers of Judaism.
The break that we know today was occurring.
And this Gospel is written in that context.

Again, dwelling on establishing the specialness of Jesus with stories of his birth was not important to these people.
What was important, was how their faith in this radical new religion based on Emmanuel – based upon the Incarnation – based on God now being with us instead of dwelling from on high –
how life based on this new faith fits into the cosmic scheme of things –
and how it is different from the old ways of doing.

Curiously, we know from the writings of a Jewish Greek philosopher from Alexandria, Philo, that this concept of God as the Doer, the Speaker, the One who Acts, the Word was emerging in Alexandria some 50 years before the Gospel of John was published.

Here, Jesus is remembered not primarily as a specific man at a specific time in history, but
as the embodiment of a wisdom, a sophia, that pervades all things and all people.
The Word has existed from the beginning, and the Word came and dwelt among people, “they knew him not.”
Here, John tells the story in a radically new way.
Jesus is identified with the Logos – the Word of God –   and becomes something other than a man from Nazareth born of flesh and blood –
but nothing less than a construct of God –
a part of Almighty himself –
a very part of the cosmos itself.

Like I concluded last week,
I think it is important for us to ask why the Gospels treat the birth of Jesus differently.
And to remember that the story that you and I have learned and could tell on a moments notice, actually does not occur in any of our gospels.

The story you and I learned,
and the story you and I tell,
is really a composite of the stories we see in the Gospels.
We tend to take a part from one and combine it with a part from another and a part from another, and lo, we have our story.

But, if we actually did what those early Christians did, we wouldn’t revere any of the details of any of these stories;
but, we would come up with our own story – like they did.
A story that begins with an experience with Emmanuel –
an experience of God being with us –
and then coming up with an explanation as to how special that experience is.

For you and me to fully understand and celebrate Christmas, we have to seek out and identify times of Emmanuel for us:
times we have been in the presence of God,
times we when we have been absolutely convinced that God is with us.

And, so we say "Where, oh where, is Emmanuel today?"
And we are on the lookout for signs of Emmanuel in our times:
for some, like the shepherds in Luke’s Gospel, it is in celestial music;
for some, it will be in coming to the Lord’s table as we do today;
for some, it will be in helping feed the hungry at the food closet;
for some, it will be in sharing special time with loved ones;
however and whenever and wherever;
This Christmas will be the best you have ever had when you open yourself to the presence of Emmanuel and recognize God with us.
Amen.

The congregation of Christ Presbyterian Church, in Drexel Hill, Pennsylvania, experienced this sermon (along with the other sermons referenced here) during Advent of 2006.  
Clyde E. Griffith, pastor

Whose Birthday Is It Anyway?

 

No one knows when Jesus was born . . .
    No one kept a record – maybe he never told anyone – we don’t know
    It just was not important to them.
There is no record of the Disciples ever singing happy birthday to Jesus.

Ready or not, Christmas is coming. 
With every catalog we get in the mail,
with every card we receive,
with every Christmas song we hear in the stores and on the radio,
with every television special we see,
with every advertisement we see and hear and read,
with every invitation we receive,
we know Christmas is on the way.
And, it will come, whether we are ready or not.
And, so we begin to get somewhat anxious about it all, don’t we?

It is almost as though there are two Christmases:
one of the lights and trees and decorations and presents and reindeer and parties and snowmen –
and . . . .  

and . . . . 

and . . . .
The one we talk about in church.

Sometimes, it seems that the two Christmases are not even of the same wavelength.

We know the Christmas story that most of the world around us celebrates – and we know it well – and we participate in it willingly and knowingly – often for very good reasons. 
We like the feeling that comes with giving and thinking about others and going out of our way to make someone’s day. 

But, you know, the earliest Christians did not celebrate Christmas.
    It just was not important to them.

No one knows when Jesus was born . . .
    No one kept a record – maybe he never told anyone – we don’t know
    It just was not important to them.
There is no record of the Disciples ever singing happy birthday to Jesus.

Of course, the first Christians knew Jesus,
they lived with Jesus,
they heard Jesus talk,
they saw Jesus laugh,
they felt Jesus hurt,
they saw Jesus sleep and eat and drink and do all kinds of bodily functions –
they experienced a living breathing person just as you and I experience each other. 

But, after a few hundred years, some believers began to question whether Jesus ever really lived at all.  
He was being remembered and worshiped as more of a god – than remembered as a real living breathing man who lived and died during certain days and years of the Roman Empire.

So, a small faction began to think it was important not to forget that Jesus was a real person. 
And if he was, we ought to remember when he was born. 
Trouble was, nobody knew when Jesus was born.

The very earliest writing we have in the New Testament is a letter from The Apostle Paul, written around the year of 35 AD.
The earliest Gospel we have is attributed to Mark.  The Gospel of Mark was most probably published around the year of 50 AD. 
In the past 70 years, many other documents have been discovered that date back to the very first decades after Jesus’ death.
When we read these documents looking for what they say about the birth of Jesus, we discover one thing in common. 
None of them have anything to say about the birth of Jesus.  Nothing.
It simply was not important to them.

A strong vocal faction of early believers thought it was just plain wrong to celebrate Jesus’ birthday – because that was too much like the world around them did when they celebrated the birthdays of the pagan gods, the Caesars and the Pharaohs.

But, there appeared a major debate in the middle of the third century.
Whether or not we would celebrate it, it would be nice to know when Jesus was born. 
So the speculation began. 
After a careful study of scripture, one prominent theologian of the third century calculated the birth date of Jesus must be May 20 [Clement of Alexandria (c.150-c.215)]
The debate began.  Others calculated that it must have been  April 18,
others thought it was April 19, and
still others were fairly certain it was  May 28.
One of the leaders of a powerful faction thought Jesus’ birthday should be remembered as
January 2 [Hippolytus (c.170-c.236)]
Others calculated it to be November 17,
others November 20, and
some, March 25.
And, so it went. 
It took over 300 years for the church leaders to agree on a date of December 25 to recognize as the birthday of Jesus.

And, even at that point, the believers were at odds with the culture around them.
Most of the world already celebrated major festivals on December 25:
the natalis solis invicti (the Roman "birth of the unconquered sun"),
and the birthday of Mithras, the Iranian "Sun of Righteousness" whose worship was popular with Roman soldiers.
The winter solstice, another celebration of the sun, fell just a few days earlier.
There were a lot of major celebrations going on at this time of year in most of the cultures of the world – and they had nothing to do with the church.
So, many believers thought it would be most inappropriate to celebrate Christmas at all.

And, in fact throughout history, there are long periods of years when nobody celebrated Christmas at all.
But, Christians have always had an uncanny ability to find ways to celebrate. 
And, in almost every culture where Christians found themselves, they appropriated local events and customs and made them their own.
And, oftentimes there were movements that would spring up to convince believers they should not participate in the cultural seasonal festivities –
sometimes by trying to convince people to remember the reason for the season,
sometimes by campaigning to put Christ back in Christmas,
sometimes by actually passing laws to ban Christmas celebrations altogether!

Imagine that, outlawing Christmas!
In the seventeen century, you may recall, Christian religious zealots took over the government of England. 
Oliver Cromwell and his Puritan Party actually passed legislation that outlawed Christmas. 
To them Christmas had become a time for lavish and raucous celebration and behavior and commercial exploitation – sound familiar? 
So, that was it. 
Plain and simple.
No more Christmas. 
(Sounds like a Dr. Zeus story, doesn’t it?)

And, it gets stranger. 
The people were outraged.
There was rioting in the streets.
Secret Christmas celebrations broke out all over England.
But, Oliver Cromwell retaliated.
Parliament decreed penalties of imprisonment for anyone caught celebrating Christmas.
Imagine that!
Being rounded up and being put in jail because you dared to celebrate Christmas!

Each year the “Christmas Police” would go through the streets a few days before Christmas warning people against celebrating Christmas. 
Businesses were not to be closed during the day  and there were to be no displays of Christmas decorations.

They went around and broke up any sign of Christmas celebration with force of arms. 

And the people rose up.
And the jails filled to overflowing.

The people would not be denied.
They took to the ballot box and voted the Puritans out of power.
Christmas was back.
The very idea. 
Outlawing Christmas.

Meanwhile, over here in the new country, the zealots persisted. 
Christmas was outlawed and not celebrated in many colonies for years. 
In fact, Christmas remained illegal in Massachusetts until sometime after 1850!

So, there is nothing new here. 
It seems that ever since day one, there was some controversy between what the church thought should be remembered and celebrated
and what and how the world around them celebrated.

Recognizing this historical reality doesn’t really do much to ease the conflict today, does it?
Christmas is celebrated in public schools without singing Christmas songs or telling Christmas stories.
All kinds of merchants appropriate seasonal music and messages to sell their products.
And fa-la-las are sung in sync with cash registers.

And, as it so often happened in the past, today the Christmas of the church gets short-shrift in our celebrations.
For the church, Christmas celebrates one of the most fundamental of beliefs – what is called incarnation. 
Specifically, the incarnation of God – that is, literally, God in the flesh. 
What we also call Emmanuel – God is with us!

The profoundness of this message is shown in the beginning words of the Gospel of John:
this is a time to recall that God existed before time began –
and all things that are and that ever will be were brought into existence by God. 
God is described as the eternal logos – the Word with a capital W. 
And John reminds us that this eternal logos, this Word, this God,
came into the world with flesh and blood –
bridged the gap – came to be one of us – came to live with us. 
And that is Emmanuel means.
God is with us. 
– a profound statement, to be sure.

At this time of year we take time to hear that God is no longer “other”,
God is no longer “out there”,
God is no longer to be appeased with sacred rites and sacrifices,
God is no longer relegated to the realm of religion – apart from where we live and work and play.

So, I am kind of on a personal crusade to never slough over the essential message of the season – the reason we in the church have celebrated the season for so long. 
Because, this is the only place that this message will be proclaimed this year –
you won’t hear it in the schoolroom,
you won’t hear it on television,
you won’t hear it on the radio,
you won’t read about it in the newspaper or magazines,
you won’t hear Rush Limbaugh talking about it,
you won’t hear Charlie Rose talking about it,
you won’t hear Oprah talking about it,
you are not likely to hear your neighbor or friend talking about it.

The bottom line is this:
however touching they are to our heartstrings,
however much we love to hear them and to sing about them,
however much we enjoy the feelings prevalent this time of year,
the birth stories are not really about the baby Jesus.

The birth stories are told and remembered because of the adult Jesus –
and what people experienced with him during his earthly ministry,
and what people experienced because of him after his death –
and what people have experienced through him through the ages,
and what people continue to experience with him day in and day out. 

For me, at its essence, Christmas is really about Emmanuel. 
That Hebrew word that means “God With Us”.  
For all those early Christians,
for all those writers of faith documents for their communities,
this word reflects what they affirmed had happened in this man from Nazareth –
what they continued to experience long after he had gone –
that Jehovah –
the great I Am –
God Almighty –
Creator of the Universe and all the worlds that are –
the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob –
the One God of the faith of our fathers and mothers –
deigned to enter our world and become as we are
to let us know there is no separation now from holy and mundane,
from sacred and profane,
from work and ritual.
No. 
In this man from Nazareth, we see Emmanuel! 
Through this man of Nazareth, we know Emmanuel.
With this man of Nazareth, we experience Emmanuel.
God is With Us.
That’s what we hear.
God is with us.
That’s what we sing.
God is with us.
That’s what we believe.
God is with us.
That’s what we celebrate.
Each and every year at Christmas.
Each and every week in worship.
Each and every morning when we get up.

Emmanuel!  This Christmas.
Emmanuel!  All year long!
Emmanuel!  Every minute of every hour of every day of your life!

We have a story to tell.
We need to find significant ways to celebrate the incarnation and the revelation of this one we call Emmanuel – Jesus our Christ.

Somehow, we have allowed non-Christians to take over our territory, our message, our celebration.
We should be the ones known for partying.
We should be the ones known for celebrating.
We are, really, the only ones that have anything worth celebrating, don’t you think?

This year, let us – you and me – be the ones to tell the stories, to tell the news.
Let everyone who lives shout and sing!
Our God is great and lives among the people!
Emmanuel!  Amen.

This sermon was shared with the congregation of Christ Presbyterian Church in Drexel Hill, Pennsylvania, December 6, 2009, by the Reverend Clyde E. Griffith.