Hello from my small, but tranquil corner,
As I ponder the reality of Advent and its implications for faith, as I reflect on the spirit of Christmas, I like many want to focus on the simplicity of the season, even when everything around me seems anything but. The purely driven snow reminds me of the power of nature to cleanse the damage we do. The beauty, the texture, and the fragrance of a Christmas Evergreen can instantly return me to my childhood and the belief that there is goodness and charity in our world. The ornaments that remind us of earlier times, or the wrapping of homemade gifts or sweets transport me back to my grandmother’s bakery and the carols playing quietly in the background remind of candle light services, choirs, and small children standing in their bathrobes with towels on their heads to be a shepherd in the church Christmas program.
The spirit of love and kindness that is indicative of our Christmas memories is what we want to believe about Christianity, but it seems the Christianity we practice and have come to embrace is an elitist God-is-on-the-side-of-the-winners or those in power have God’s ear or an inside track to receiving God’s grace. Such an inclination is not only absurdly non-sensical; it is not scriptural. When we consider the actual person, for whom the clichéd “reason for the season” refers, Jesus of Nazareth; he was probably not more than 5’5” or 5’6”, with olive-brown skin and brown or black hair. He was Jewish and practice Jewish customs. As an itinerant craftsman, he was probably slight, lean, and strong. The reality of Jesus’s disciples is even more complex with some coming from Galilee and others from other Semitic backgrounds, but it is generally accepted that they were all practicing Jews. Certainly different ethnicities and cultures have attempted to lay claim on a Jesus that fits their own ethnography, but my research seems to support Jesus was probably closest to what today would be an Iraqi-Jewish person (Taylor 2018, 2019). And then there is our scriptural claims that we have the red-lettered words of Jesus. Again, when we consider the complexity of scripture, languages, and translation (as well as the fact that Jesus spoke Aramaic as his common language), the arrogance that many claim in their adherence to the King James Bible is quite pitiful.
If we focus on the greatest of the commandments, the importance of loving the other is unavoidable. It is simply and straight forward commanded of us. It is the basis of the Biblical message to all who claim to be Christian (it is a love that is all encompassing, a love that sees beyond color, beyond our definition of worth). It is an agentic love (and not in an AI sense of agentic). It is purposeful and autonomous, and yes, its goal is to achieve a peaceful, harmonious, and giving creation. It is a faith and love that requires profound movement away from our selfish needs. It is an unconditional practice in a conditional world. There is nothing easy about it. I struggle to be faithful, to turn the other cheek toward those who hurt me. Where is the line in being thoughtful and protective, while still giving at the same time? If our giving is out of obligation is it giving? If our love needs something in return, is it love? I want to be the person who is unconditional in his generosity, who is colorless in his acceptance, and whose life demonstrates a life of gratitude and giving, but so often I fall short. Even when I work diligently to give more than I take, I find myself struggling to be as philanthropic as I wish I could be. I have taken some time to reexamine the things provided us in the scripture, and while I know this is simplistic in its consideration, what struck me as I looked at the actions of this person, the one we refer to by names with profound implication, he focused on the other and how power and privilege often excluded them. The actions of Jesus, the person so many claim as salvific, as their personal savior, throw power and privilege out the window. So there is an incredible irony when people of privilege want to claim that Jesus is on their side, or they’re so blessed to have what they have. Before you think I am against success, that is not what I am saying. What astounds me is when so many feel their money equals entitlement at the expense of those less fortunate. I think the example of the Thomas family and St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital demonstrates what one might do with wealth and fame. What the hospital does for children throughout the world is remarkable. When people who have little still give then I believe we begin to see the gospel in its truest form.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer envisioned a church, a Christianity, he referred to as religionless. It was a church that spoke out against injustice, against inequity, and against the abuse of power that too often happens in the name of Jesus, or in supposed acts of faithfulness. Faith is most effective when it makes the life of the other more manageable, more hopeful. Our co-opting of Jesus for our own, often at the exclusion of the other, our use of pious language or dogma when it works to eliminate the other, our use of tradition or structure to create division among all people is not what an inclusive gospel proclaims. When we look carefully and intentionally at the life of Jesus, I believe most often we will find ourselves uncomfortable in our comfortability.
My reflection on the themes of Advent, of peace, of hope, of joy or love seem to call on us to awaken from our slumber, of our disillusioned believing we have a corner on the gospel, or that Jesus loves us more as shown by one’s wealth, privilege, or power. I am reminded of the final scene in the movie Schindler’s List. It is powerful when he realizes he could have saved more, he breaks down and weeps. Sharing the love and hope of Jesus and a Creator is not just something that happens in the four weeks of Advent or the 12 Days of Christmas. It is daily, and it is for all people. That is our calling. Blessings as you proceed through this sacred season.
Thanks as always for reading.
Michael
thewritingprofessor55 