Please join me in prayer…
Lord God, may your peace and Holy Spirit fill this place. Open your scriptures to us, and may I clearly communicate that which you intend us to receive. May your Word take root and flourish within each and every one of us. Through it may we be strengthened and transformed by your unconditional, living, and limitless love for all of your Creation.
In Jesus Name, Amen.
I’ll begin with a quote I heard in Seminary. But, I’ve been unable to find the source or exact wording. So, I’m quoting from memory … plagiarizing and paraphrasing, all at the same time! What a Jewish scholar said (more or less) was, “Christianity did what Judaism never has. It envisioned God in an infant. This is an amazing thing.”
For me, his words are helpful in this era of darkness and uncertainty. Especially now, at the start of Advent. Itself a season of darkness in which we prepare ourselves for the days when hope is reborn, the hope that Jeremiah spoke of.
Infants can do nothing for themselves. For a newborn, that first breath (or any bodily function or sensation) is often a traumatic event. It’s all new, all unknown, it’s scary. They need help, they need comforting, they need nurturing. They need us.
So, why did God begin Jesus’ ministry in a position of absolute vulnerability? Jesus had no choice but to rely entirely upon others, upon us, for everything. Why did the Savior begin his earthly ministry as a helpless, fragile, infant?
Well, since I’m the one preaching this morning, I’ll tell you. … At least I’ll tell you what I think! But first, let’s step back a bit and consider the context of this birth to come.
We all know that back in Jesus’ time, the Jews were a conquered people. Their land was under occupation. Their religious and political rulers served, and literally survived, literally at the whim of their masters. The needs of their own people were not their priority.
There was an economic aspect, as well. Romans, and those who became wealthy under their rule, bought or outright stole property throughout Israel. Multitudes were evicted from land their families had farmed for centuries. Huge estates were assembled. Vast new vineyards replaced the small family plots. Slaves and day-laborers supplanted those who once worked their own land. Life for many or most Jews became uncertain and tenuous.
There was no social safety net. The fabric of society had disintegrated. People desperately tried to provide for themselves and (hopefully) their children; but they had nothing to spare for others in need. Those who lost their livelihood usually lost their homes too. Scholars tell us that the homeless back then rarely survived more than a couple of years. Being kicked off your land was essentially a death sentence.
The desperation of the people, especially in rural areas like Galilee, is plain to see throughout the Gospels. The people scrabbled to survive in a land that was no longer theirs. Untold thousands had no home, no livelihood, and no hope for their own future. Their world was a dark, dangerous place. Their plight and powerlessness is a focus of Jesus’ ministry.
Those with power ignored the immense suffering they created. The people were trapped in a darkness so deep, so pervasive, they saw no way out. Life was endless trauma and struggle. Like an infant, they could do nothing to help themselves. Or, so they believed.
The common wisdom of the time was that the afflictions of the homeless, poor, and ill, were their own fault. They or their parents must have sinned in some way, and they were paying the price for that sin. In other words, they deserved the hardships they were enduring. This was the lie that Jesus confronted. His Gospel challenged the narrative the rulers and wealthy relied-upon to keep the masses under control.
It seems to me that our own time has amazingly close parallels with these themes from the past. But then, the ancients believed history moved in endlessly repeating cycles. That nothing was ever truly new under the sun. But as that Jewish scholar I quoted earlier pointed out, something new did occur. Something amazing.
And so, a second question springs to mind: Not only do I wonder why God came to us through a helpless infant. But why was Jesus born into a place where everyone was helpless, vulnerable, and defenseless?
Last week (and this time I’m neither plagiarizing nor paraphrasing), Tom said: “Jesus’ leadership is not about power. It’s not about riches. It’s not about glory. It’s about Love. Jesus never said ‘I am King’ … Jesus said ‘follow me’ … in serving others.”
So, to answer my first two questions, it seems we need to get from dealing with a squalling newborn to finding hope in the Gospel of our Savior.
Hope is fragile. It’s a nebulous thing; but it is tough to kill.
You know, now that I’m thinking about it. Why do we put up with all that caterwauling, spit-up food, sleepless nights, and thunderous diaper-blasting poops? Those two new parents, Joseph and Mary, had no idea what they were getting themselves into. But, helpless and annoying as they are, children are our future; just as Jesus was their future – and ours. Children are the reason for our determination to leave the world a better place than we found it.
But, we all feel like we’re failing at that right now. Even so, that hope never dies. Our determination to make the world a better place is the purpose, the goal, that is always there. It is the hope we are reaching-for whenever we help, comfort, or nurture, another.
The Christ Child was born to provide us with such hope, and the determination to achieve it. A hope that could not grow and thrive unless that child truly was vulnerable. Unless it really needed our care, our nurturing, our investment in its (and our) future. God needed vulnerability in order to plant and nurture within us the hope and love we need for the Divine Plan, that is already planted within us, to come to fruition.
But, those in Jesus’ time were no different from the many of us who find it impossible to keep hope alive in today’s world. The purposes of God are hidden from us. All we see is greed, destruction, and hate – everywhere – all around us. But I tell you, look up – gaze at that light you see far off: bright against the blackness. That star. Hope is still there. Hope is still here. And, it illuminates our lives still. We just need to learn how to see it, and how to nurture it. Hope is a gift that is freely given, and it will never fail or fade away.
This is one purpose of Advent. Advent is a time of preparation for the birth of the Christ Child. It is founded on our belief and therefore hope that our Creator’s promise will not die. It is a God-given opportunity for us to rediscover how to nurture that hope for ourselves. We don’t need to remain lost in fear and darkness. The hope lives, as does our faith in it, and it will bear fruit.
As I’ve said from this pulpit before, God is not asking us to do miracles or great deeds. God is asking us to find that metaphorical child that needs us. That child could manifest as someone at a homeless shelter who needs a ride to an interview for a job. Or, perhaps someone with whom we can share a meal. Or perhaps someone who just needs a friend to sit with them for a little while. Or, perhaps we could plant a few flowers for the bees to pollinate and passersby to enjoy.
We can’t fix the mess our nation and world find themselves in right now, nor are we called to do so. But, we are called to care for our neighbor, and that we can and will do.
We are an open and affirming church. That means we are determined to care, to love people just as they are, for who they are, no matter where or what they are. Just as Christ loves them. We are determined to make the world a better place then we found it — for them.
No, we cannot fix our nation’s ills right now. But we can hope. We can nurture that hope, we can help it grow and spread. For this reason Jesus was born.
And, hope is what we need now in this time of darkness, confusion, hate, and fear. For if there is hope, hate and fear fall away. If there is hope, confusion and darkness are not nearly so scary.
In these and other ways we provide and nurture hope in the places where it needs to grow. We are that light in the darkness. We are helping those who are lost in their misery to find the way. We are doing the work God calls us to do – to follow him through helping those that have lost hope to find it again.
We serve in many ways not to enhance the Savior’s glory, nor ours, but to nurture hope. And, we are ministering not just to others, but also to ourselves. Through such service, we develop a commonality of understanding, of purpose, of faith. A community of faith based on mutual love, and respect, and support. A community that will reach across barriers that right now seem to be so strong and forbidding. A community that will eventually – one reborn hope at a time – tear those barriers down. We are learning to become a united community – a united people – in Christ. We are working together to nurture and support each other. And together, we can leave the darkness behind and celebrate our salvation within the presence and light of God.
I can’t promise we won’t experience hard times. But, I can promise that God is still here, still loving us. Christ is alongside us every step of the way as we bring the light of his Gospel to the world. Resurrecting a hope we thought was lost forever.
Amen.
Scripture Readings:
Delivered at Memorial Congregational Church UCC in Sudbury MA, December 1, 2024: (First Sunday of Advent)
Copyright 2024, Allen Vander Meulen III, all rights reserved.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.
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