Scripture: Luke 1:46-55
I have to be honest with you, that my heart is not much into preaching this morning. When the bulletin was printed I couldn’t even think about what I might say this morning, what title to give the sermon, or whether it would even be a sermon. I haven’t been able to think too much about it even since, so as it turns out the answer is, it won’t…be a sermon, that is. But I do have just a few thoughts that I will try to share with you in just a few words.
My plan for this Advent has been to think about the idea of shalom from several different perspectives, thinking of shalom not just as peace, whatever that word may mean for us, but also as wholeness, and all that that word might mean for us. What are some of the elements that go into creating peace and wholeness in the human community and in the human soul? So far, the importance of recognizing, just recognizing our places of brokenness and needs for healing. The question of inner peace and what role it might or might not play in our quest for wholeness. This morning, I had planned to talk about violence and non-violence, specifically war and peace, but also violence and non-violence in broader ways. I still want to do that, but it will have to wait until next week. I had planned next week to say something about being vulnerable, and although I will not have the energy to say everything I might have said next week, I want to say just a little along those lines this morning. It’s where I am. I’m feeling a bit vulnerable today.
I do think the Christmas story is in part about being vulnerable. I don’t want to be too harsh or cynical about this, but there is a lot of sweetness and sentimentality that can be attached to the nativity stories—heartwarming images of the holy family gathered together in a stable, being warmed by their love for each other and God’s love, the special love of mother and child, sweet baby Jesus, things like that. And as I say I don’t want to be too cynical about it. Nothing wrong with lifting up family love, the holiness of birth, all birth, nothing wrong with the parts of the story that sometimes get sentimentalized, as long as that’s not all of the story.
And for me part of the rest is the vulnerability. Just on a human level Christ came into the world unprotected. The nativity stories emphasize that. It is not just that babies are cute, sweet, beautiful, or loveable. They are completely vulnerable. The story says that Jesus came into the world that way, lived his life that way, ended his life that way, vulnerable to the hopes, the hurts, the needs, the fears, the blindness, and the ill will of people around him. The story is that kings or magi had to make a journey to find him, a journey that required them to leave behind their places of privilege and special powers and to become just human beings. The story is that the shepherds, already among the most vulnerable of people in that society, vulnerable to the elements, excluded from polite society, they could relate to the baby. The story says that as an adult everywhere he went he was touched by people, physically touched, emotionally touched. The story says that when he saw women who were sick or men who couldn’t see or children who couldn’t walk he was moved to tears. The story says that when the disciples wanted to send people away, he wouldn’t let them. The story says that at the end when he was being threatened with death he would not allow the disciples to raise a hand in his defense and he himself would not so much as say a word in self-defense. The story says he lived completely without defense, without the various kinds of barriers we put up to protect ourselves. We may not be able to live completely without our defenses; they come in pretty handy sometimes. But the story says to me that our wholeness, our humanity depends on our being vulnerable to one another.
And, for those for whom the Jesus of the scriptures offers a window into the heart of God, or for those who find in Jesus even some clues as to who God is or what God is like, the story suggests that God is also vulnerable, vulnerable to the hopes and fears and needs and tears of her people. The story suggests that where God’s people are grieving or rejoicing God is somehow present in the midst of it all. The story suggests that God is not some separate, sealed-off, powerful being but rather is Emmanuel, with us in the most profound sense possible. The story suggests that the laughter and tears of humans beings are part of the life of God. The story suggests that our wholeness depends too on our being vulnerable to God and God being vulnerable to us.
And so, I look around at this congregation on this Sunday morning, feeling vulnerable, and I think that at our best we come here every Sunday morning, whether there has been a death in the family or not, we come just as vulnerable human beings, trying to put away all our pretenses and defenses, looking for that wholeness we cannot find any other way, and knowing that as we do, God is in the midst of us sharing our sometimes troubled journey this day and always. Amen
Jim Bundy
December 11, 2005