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Signs of the Times  •  21 December 2016  •  No. 101

Processional. “What a Wonderful World,” Louis Armstrong.

Imagine the impending natural disaster in the above photo as a very unnatural social wreckage. Then transfer that image to first century Palestine. Now you have a picture of the context in which the nativity stories were written.

Invocation. “Wake up, sleepy-head! Rouse yourselves, all you who have been sedated by the mindless blather coming from statehouse and church house alike. Knock some sense into each other, all you who have come to believe that strength comes from your own hand, that security is held by your own harness. Let loose your timid tongue to declare Mercy’s approach in response to Mary’s supplication. Raise hearts of gladness for the annulment of enmity.” —continue reading Ken Sehested’s “I arise today,” a litany for worship

Right: Color version of Thomas Nast’s most famous drawing, “Merry Old Santa Claus”, from the January 1, 1881 edition of Harper’s Weekly.

Call to worship. “The Challenge of Christmas,” from Sarah & Dominic. (2:50 video)

¶ “In the United States, the first version of “The Night Before Christmas” was published in 1823. An 1881 cartoon in Harper’s Weekly by Thomas Nast established the look of Santa Claus that we know today.

        By 1870, Christmas had become a federal holiday. Across the ocean, in London, the de facto capital of the world in the 19th century, Charles Dickens wrote A Christmas Carol in 1843. That same year, Sir Henry Cole commissioned John Calcott Horsley to make the first Christmas card. An 1848 drawing in The Illustrated London News showing Queen Victoria and Prince Albert around a decorated Buckingham Palace Christmas tree further ensconced the holiday in the English consciousness.

        The trappings of Christmas we know today came from dozens of cultures, including England (mistletoe), Italy (gift-giving), Scandinavia (stockings), the Netherlands (Santa Claus, his reindeer and elves), and Greece (wreaths). Only the star and the nativity scene originated in Bethlehem.” Yet in “the words of the Egyptian writer André Aciman: ‘Bethlehem . . . [now] looks nothing like the town God’s son might want to be born in. But that’s the whole point. Everything here is meant to test one's faith.’”  —Richard Morgan, “The Secret History of Christmas in Bethlehem,” Travel & Leisure

Hymn of praise. “O Holy Night” by Aaron Neville.

Left: Haddon Sundblom’s first Coca-Cola Santa ad, 1931. See more of his subsequent ads at “Coca-Cola Santa Claus 1931-1949,” Adbranch

For the most part, people use God as Santa Claus. —Rickie Lee Jones

¶ “The name Santa Claus has his roots in the informal Dutch name for St. Nicholas, Sinterklaas (an abbreviation of Sint Nikolaas). St. Nicholas was a historic 4th-century Greek saint (from an area now in modern day Turkey) who had a reputation for secret gift-giving, such as putting coins in the shoes left out for him. He was also famous for presenting the three impoverished daughters of a pious Christian with dowries so that they would not have to become prostitutes.”
        For more images of Santa Claus, see “A Pictorial History of Santa Claus,” The Public Domain Review.

The Coca-Cola soft drink company did not invent Santa Claus, but they did have a significant influence in shaping Santa’s modern image. —For more background, see “The Claus That Refreshes: Was the modern image of Santa Clause created by the Coco-Cola Company?” Snopes

Velvet-voiced Christmas. “The First Noel,” Nat King Cole.

¶ “When I was in Tyler, one of my friends owned the best sporting goods in East Texas. Christmas season was crazy as people crammed in the building, shopping for that perfect gift. I visited him a week or so before Christmas and asked him how business was going. He responded, ‘Great! I just wish Jesus had a brother born in July!’” —David Galloway, Facebook post

This year the Jewish festival of Hanukkah falls on the date of the Christian Christmas Eve. “In 2003, this overlap [of the two observances] got a new name: “Chrismukkah,” coined by the character Seth Cohen on the hit Fox television show “The OC.” The son of a Jewish father and a Protestant mother, Cohen defined Chrismukkah as “eight days of presents and then one day of lots of presents.” It was a time to combine both holidays, at least commercially. They had a tree but ordered Chinese food. After the show aired, a Chrismukkah-themed website and cookbook popped up. TIME magazine made “Chrismukkah” a buzzword of the year.” —Samira Mehta, Religion & Politics

For background on Hanukkah, the Jewish Festival of Lights, see “My Jewish Learning.”

Hanukkah hymn. “Light One Candle,” Peter, Paul & Mary.

Confession. “Hope is a state of mind independent of the state of the world. If your heart’s full of hope, you can be persistent when you can’t be optimistic. Hope resists; hopelessness adapts.” —William Sloan Coffin

What are the origins of the alleged “war on Christmas”? “The most organized attack on Christmas came from the Puritans, who banned celebrations of the holiday in the 17th century because it did not accord with their interpretation of the Bible.” —Liam Stack, “How the ‘War on Christmas’ Controversy Was Created,” Washington Post

Hymn of lamentation. “Celtic Christmas 3: Lament,” Windham Hill Sampler.

Left: A poster by the U.S. Food Administration. Educational Division, Advertising Section, ca. 1918.

Words of assurance. “Though the nations rage from age to age, we remember who holds us fast; / God’s mercy shall deliver us from the conqueror’s crushing grasp. / This saving word that our forebears heard is the promise which holds us bound, / Till the spear and rod can be quelled by God who is turning the world around.” —Gary Daigle, Rory Cooney & Theresa Donohoo, “Canticle of the Turning”

I never believed in Santa Claus because I knew no white dude would come into my neighborhood after dark. —Dick Gregory

In this season’s contentious debate over refugees and immigrants, it’s worth remembering that Anne Frank (Annelies Marie Frank, author of the famous Diary of a Young Girl written during her two-year hiding in Amsterdam during the Nazi occupation of The Netherlands) and her family were denied visas to come to the US.

        Fear of terrorism is not new in our political life. On May 1940 one US diplomat, George S. Messersmith wrote “Among the so-called refugees in our country is a fair number who can be depended upon to act as agents of their government and who will violate in any way the hospitality which they are enjoying among us.” —Elahe Izadi, Washington Post

¶ “In modern warfare, seven children die for every soldier.” —Knud Wümpelmann, then president of the Baptist World Alliance, in a report to the BWA Human Rights Commission on a "United Nations' World Conference on Human Rights, Vienna, Austria, June 14-25, 1993

The Greeks had a huntress goddess, and gods of agriculture and war and love. What else would we have but a god of merchandising and of consumption? —Donald Westlake

¶ It’s a shame that few Protestants observe the “Feast of the Holy Innocents”— observed by Roman Catholics and some Orthodox communions —commemorating the slaughter of infants around Bethlehem (cf. Matthew 2:16-18), around the time of Jesus’ birth, prompted by King Herod’s fear of a political rival.

        These murdered infants were considered by the early church to be the first Christian martyrs. The Roman Station (venue of special masses) for 28 December is at St. Paul’s Outside the Walls in Rome, where bones of some of the “innocents” are said to be interred.

Professing our faith. “Gather up / in the arms of your love / Those who expect / No love from above.” —Langston Hughes

Short story: Remembering military heroes of a different sort. “Larry Colburn, who became an 18-year-old American hero when he intervened with two comrades to halt the massacre of unarmed Vietnamese civilians by United States soldiers in 1968, elevating an innocuous hamlet named My Lai into a watchword for the horrors of war, died on Tuesday at his home in Canton, Ga., from cancer. He was 67.”

Left: Mr. Colburn in 2008 with Do Ba, whom Mr. Colburn had rescued at My Lai. Credit Chitose Suzuki/Associated Press.

            Colburn was the last surviving member of a three-man helicopter crew, piloted by Chief Warrant Officer Hugh Thompson Jr., that witnessed in 1968 the US slaughter of as many as 500 Vietnamese civilians in the My Lai village, and positioned his helicopter between marauding US soldiers and surviving villagers. All three, including Glenn Andreotta, were later awarded The Bronze Star, a medal given to members of the US Armed Forces for exceptional valor in the face of enemy fire—only this time the enemy was their own fellow soldiers.

            Charges were brought against more than a dozen US officers, but only one, Lt. William L. Calley, was convinced and sentenced to life in prison. He served only three and a half years, under house arrest. —read more of this remarkable story by Sam Roberts, New York Times

Hymn of intercession. “Come now, O Prince of Peace, make us one body, come, O Lord Jesus, reconcile your people.” —Jeremy Bankson, “Come Now O Prince of Peace,” performed by First-Plymouth Church, Lincoln, Nebraska

Right: poster-Office for Emergency Management, War Production Board, circa. 1942

Preach it. “If everyone were holy and handsome, with alter Christus shining in neon lighting from them, it would be easy to see Christ in everyone. If Mary had appeared in Bethlehem clothed, as St. John says, with the sun, a crown of twelve stars on her head, and the moon under her feet, then people would have fought to make room for her. But that was not God’s way for her, nor is it Christ’s way for himself, now when he is disguised under every type of humanity that treads the earth. —Dorothy Day

When only the blues will do. “What Do the Lonely Do At Christmas,” The Emotions.

Can’t makes this sh*t up. Over the last decade, 10 people have died, and 105 injured, during “Black Friday” Christmas shopping excursions. —“Black Friday Death Count”

Call to the table. “In an age ruled by terror—both by state and by sect—place on our lips the subversive claim of the Resurrection. As the vanguard of your coming Commonwealth, give us the courage to live at odds with the rage of this age.” —continue reading Ken Sehested’s “New year resolutions,” a litany for worship

For the beauty of the earth. Sea lily dance.

Altar call. “The temptation is strong to abandon earth’s rancor / in favor of Heaven’s rapture. Yet from Joy’s / horizon storms the quelling word: Heaven’s / abode is anchored in earth’s tribulation. / The proclamation has been rendered; / incarnation, tendered; emancipation, / though delayed, will not finally be hindered. . . . / Behold! All things—from earth’s bounded / borders to Heaven’s blissful shore—stand / destined under Glory to be made new.” —continue reading Ken Sehested’s poem, “The quelling word,” a poem inspired by Revelation 21:1-6a

Uh-Oh—slushy takeoff for St. Nick. On Christmas Eve, temperature at the North Pole is predicted to be 50°F higher than normal, near the 32° melting point.

Benediction. “May your home always be too small to hold all your friends. May your heart remain ever supple, fearless in the face of threat, jubilant in the grip of grace.” —continue reading Ken Sehested’s “Benedicere: A New Year’s Day Blessing”

Recessional. “Happy Christmas (War Is Over),” by John Lennon, performed by Peter Frampton, Aloe Blacc & Cheryl Crow.

Lectionary for Sunday next. Then, from highest reach and farthest horizon, came the Herald of resolve. See, the dwelling place of God is among mortals. The Blessed One will nest in creaturely habitation, bestowing kinship with the Most High. Heaven’s Promise is to wipe away every tear. Death? Come undone. Mourning? No more. Crying? Turned to joy. Pain? Transposed into awe and wonder. History’s agony, consummated in the Beloved’s embrace. Persevere, wearied one, in this assurance. —Revelation 21:3-4, adapted by Ken Sehested

Right: Norman Rockwell’s cover of Boys’ Life published December 1913

Planning a “Watch Night” service on New Year’s Eve? See Ken Sehested’s “Watch night history: Awaiting the quelling word,” written against the backdrop of New Year's Eve services, 1862, when African Americans gathered to await news of US President Abraham Lincoln's promised "Emancipation Proclamation."

Just for fun. “Liam Neeson Auditions for Mall Santa.”

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Featured this week on prayer&politiks

• “I arise today,” a litany for worship

• “Watch night history: Awaiting the quelling word”

• “The quelling word,” a poem inspired by Revelation 21:1-6a

• “New year resolutions,” a litany for worship

 
Other features

• “Made flesh among us,” a sermon based on John 1:1-14

• “Testimony in a time of terror: Standing with the Word of God, for the earth, and against the world,” a litany for worship

©Ken Sehested @ prayerandpolitiks.org. Language not otherwise indicated above is that of the editor. Don’t let the “copyright” notice keep you from circulating material you find here (and elsewhere in this site). Reprint permission is hereby granted in advance for noncommercial purposes.

Your comments are always welcomed. If you have news, views, notes or quotes to add to the list above, please do. If you like what you read, pass this along to your friends. You can reach me directly at kensehested@prayerandpolitiks.org.

I arise today

A litany for worship

by Ken Sehested,

Wake up, sleepy-head! Rouse yourselves, all you who have been sedated by the mindless blather coming from statehouse and church house alike. Knock some sense into each other, all you who have come to believe that that strength comes from your own hand, that security is held by your own harness.

With my own eyes I saw the Blessed One before me: Christ above me, Christ before me. Christ behind me, Christ within me.

Let loose your timid tongue to declare Mercy’s approach in response to Mary’s supplication. Raise hearts of gladness for the annulment of enmity. Let your body’s senses relish the hope of Heaven’s embrace.

Christ beneath me, Christ above me. Christ on my right side, Christ on my left.

For your Lover is faithful, watchful. God is ever vigilant. Rare the mother who abandons her child. Rarer still the Womb of Heaven who forgets her offspring.

Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down. Christ when I arise, Christ to shield me.

For you, Most Humble Lord, guide me in the paths of righteousness; you disclose the way of justice; and your Presence makes glad my soul and makes haste my feet!

From all who wish me ill, afar and anear, alone and in a multitude, against every cruel and merciless power that may oppose my body and soul: I arise today!

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inspired by Acts 2:25-28, Psalm 16:8-11, and “The Deer’s Cry,” anonymous 8th century poem often attributed to St. Patrick
—from “In the Land of the Living: Prayers personal and public”
©ken sehested @ prayerandpolitiks.org

 

 

News, views, notes, and quotes

Signs of the Times  •  16 December 2016  •  No. 100

¶ Processional. “Veni Veni Emmanuel” ("O Come O Come Emmaneul"), L'Accorche-Choeur, Ensemble vocal Fribourg.

Above: These shape-shifting galaxies have taken on the form of a giant mask. The icy blue eyes are actually the cores of two merging galaxies, called NGC 2207 and IC 2163, and the mask is their spiral arms.
            The two met and began a sort of gravitational tango about 40 million years ago. The two galaxies are tugging at each other, stimulating new stars to form. Eventually, this cosmic ball will come to an end, when the galaxies meld into one. The dancing duo is located 140 million light-years away in the Canis Major constellation.

Invocation. “We Are Waiting For You,” a new Advent song by The Many.

Call to worship. Juan Diego Flórez, “Comfort Ye My People” and “Every Valley Shall Be Exalted” from Handel’s “Messiah.”

Good news. “A group of nearly 60 employees at major tech companies have signed a pledge refusing to help build a Muslim registry. The pledge states that signatories will advocate within their companies to minimize collection and retention of data that could enable ethnic or religious targeting under the Trump administration, to fight any unethical or illegal misuse of data, and to resign from their positions rather than comply.” —Natasha Tiku, Buzz Feed

[photo cap: Scientists rally Tuesday in conjunction with the American Geophysical Union's fall meeting Tuesday in San Francisco. Marcio Jose Sanchez/AP]

More signs of life: Energy Department resistance. “Donald Trump's transition team is backing away from a controversial questionnaire sent to the Department of Energy demanding names of employees who assisted in the Obama administration's climate policy efforts. The Department of Energy hit back on Tuesday with a statement saying that the memo ‘left many in our workforce unsettled’ and that it would not comply with questions asking for names of individuals.” —Alexander Mallin & Katherine Faulders, ABC News

Hymn of praise. “O Light born of Light, / Jesus, redeemer of the world, / with loving-kindness deign to receive / suppliant praise and prayer. / Thou who once deigned to be clothed in flesh / for the sake of the lost,  / grant us to be members  / of thy blessed body.” —English translation of lyrics to “O Nata Lux” by Morten Lauridsen, performed by the Los Angeles Master Chorale (Thanks Randy.)

This year marks the 51st consecutive TV showing of the “Charlies Brown Christmas” special. Writer and musician Jason Soroski reminisces about the climactic moment Linus, his ever-present security blanket in hand, delivers his soliloquy about “What Christmas Is All About.” reciting part of Luke’s birth narrative, starting at 2:8. Just as Linus repeats the angels’ salutation to the shepherds, including “fear not” (King James Version, 1:50 video), Linus drops his security blanket—something he’d done before. —read Soroski’s commentary, “Special Moment From Charlie Brown Christmas” (Thanks Anne)

“Told you so” moment. “Earlier this month, an oil pipeline spewed tens of thousands of gallons of crude oil into the water just around 150 miles from the site of the months-long protest against the construction of the Dakota Access pipeline near the Standing Rock Sioux reservation in North Dakota. CNBC reports that more than 176,000 gallons of oil spilled out of the Belle Fourche Pipeline and into the Ash Coulee Creek near the city of Belfield.” —Katherine Krueger, Fusion

Confession. “One might wish or hope that religion and religions would help turn away haters and counter hate, but just the opposite is visible. ‘Hate’ and group animosities show up on the first pages of the Hebrew Scriptures/Bible, as they do in most holy books of faith communities. Almost all of these texts also propose, envision, or command the pursuit of ways for love and understanding to counter hate—and for, say, ‘acceptance’ to win over ‘discrimination.’ But 2016 was not the year to see much of that, despite some good efforts by Pope Francis and many less well-known charismatic, courageous, and tireless leaders and ordinary folk in their faith communities.” —Martin E. Marty, “Sightings”

Cold war heating up. Russia will expand nuclear missile patrols near its borders with Europe as it develops its military to respond to increasing ‘threats’ in 2017, senior commanders have announced. . . . Gen. Gerasimov said the government views ‘expanded presence of Nato’s forces near the Russian border’ as a challenge to Russian security.” —Lizzie Dearden, The Independent

In-kind threat. “As President Barack Obama vows that the US will take ‘action’ in response to the allegations that Russia interfered with the November election, the U.S. army has started to bring tanks back to a Cold War site in the Netherlands as a show of its ‘commitment to deterrence in Europe. . . .’ ‘Three years ago, the last American tank left Europe; we all wanted Russia to be our partner,’ said Lt. Gen. Ben Hodges, head of U.S. Army Europe. "My country is bringing tanks back," and ‘[w]e are signaling our commitment and demonstrating the ability to prepare,’ he said.” —Andrea Germanos, commondreams

¶ “One hundred U.S. CEOs have company retirement funds collectively worth $4.7 billion, a total equal to the retirement savings of the 41% of U.S. families with the smallest reserves for their golden years, according to a new report. . . . The nest eggs of those chief executives are large enough to generate an average $253,088 in monthly retirement payments for the rest of their lives, the report said.” —Kevin McCoy, USA Today

¶ “President-elect Donald Trump's 17 ultra-rich cabinet-level picks thus far have a combined wealth that surpasses that of the 43 million least wealthy American households combined.” —Deidre Fulton, commondreams

Words of assurance. “Though the nations rage from age to age, we remember who holds us fast; / God’s mercy shall deliver us from the conqueror’s crushing grasp. / This saving word that our forebears heard is the promise which holds us bound, / Till the spear and rod can be quelled by God who is turning the world around.” —Gary Daigle, Rory Cooney & Theresa Donohoo, “Canticle of the Turning”

Professing our faith. "Most churches are either silent about social justice or have replaced the Gospel with the basic tenets of a progressive platform,” wrote the poet Alysia Harris. “But the election of Trump shows that we need to reimagine how we go about seeking justice, and I believe the Gospel presents an approach that will be highly effective under a Trump presidency. The truth is: Our liberation cannot and never will be delivered by the hand of the state.” —Emma Green, "Trump Is Bringing Progressive Protestants Back to Church" (Thanks Leah.)

Instead of watching “It’s a Wonderful Life,” “Miracle on 34th Street,” or "Home Alone" this year, find the 1987 Danish film directed by Gabriel Axel, “Babette’s Feast.” Based on a story by Isak Dinesen, it’s not centered on the holiday, but Pope Francis recently declared it to be his favorite movie. (It won the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film.)

Hymn of intercession. “Strong wind, strong wind / Many dead, tonight it could be you  / And we are homeless, homeless  / Moonlight sleeping on a midnight lake .” —Ladysmith Black Mambazo, “Homeless”

When only the blues will do. “Blues for Christmas,” John Lee Hooker.

Preach it. “Today's awareness: We are living in a multi-car wreck, staring at crash after crash after crash. Our job is to steer through and around the mess. This means that we really need to pay attention to what we are looking at when we drive. We have to look for the openings and stop fixation on the pile up.
       “The Trump dystopia depends upon our fixation on the reality-show style pile up so we are unable to move, resist, organize. It keeps the division and distraction at the front of our experience on purpose. Our job is to remember that we are free not to look. We are free to acknowledge the wreck without getting tangled up in it.
        “Look for the openings.
        “Make a plan.
        “Breathe.
        “Shake it off.” —Robin Lunn
        And I would add: Trust your anchor.

Can’t makes this sh*t up. “Scientists are frantically copying US climate date, fearing it might vanish under Trump.” —Brady Dennis, Washington Post. (Thanks Betsy.)

¶ “Omran, Angels Are Here,” painting (at right) by ©Judith Mehr, who writes, “Well, here is my obsession I have been involved with for the past two months. I painted this new 60" x 48" painting, entitled "Omran, Angels Are Here," because I saw that picture of the little boy [five-year-old Omran Daqneesh in Aleppo, Syria] in the ambulance seat who had just been pulled out of the rubble of a bombed building in Aleppo, Syria. I really wanted to comfort that boy so I thought of Angels coming to attend to him.”

Call to the table. As Walter Rauschenbusch said of the Christians of his day who wanted nothing of a “social” gospel, “Their religion has made them respected; all men like them for their goodness. But their goodness was never so good that it waked up the devil.”

The state of our disunion. “A teacher in Wesley Chapel, Fla., told black students: ‘Don’t make me call Donald Trump to get you sent back to Africa.’” —Moriah Balingit, “Civil Rights group documents nearly 900 hate incidents since presidential election,” Washington Post

Best one-liner. “If in speaking prophetically we wake the devil, let us not be afraid; for the devil is a liar, and we serve the truth.” —Joseph Kuilema

Left: Cartoon by Norwegian cartoonist Christian Bloom.

For the beauty of the universe. Follow the 2016 “Hubble Space Telescope Advent Calendar.”

Altar call. We long for the day when “every boot of the trampling warrior in battle tumult and every garment rolled in blood will be burned as fuel for the fire” (Isaiah 9:6, 7). —continue reading Ken Sehested’s “Testimony in a world of terror: Standing with the Word of God, for the earth and against the world,” a litany for worship

Benediction. “In the Bleak Midwinter,” Chanticleer.

Recessional. Spend the time (7:13 music video) to take in “The Bell Chant,” narrated by Thich Nath Hanh, chanted by brother Phap Niem.”

Lectionary for Sunday next. “On Friday a number of us accepted St. Matthias’ Episcopal Church’s invitation to join with them for their Christmas Eve service. We had some great music and liturgy. At one point, though, when we read in unison the Nicene Creed, I remembered my complaint about many of the faith statements of the ancient Church. Here’s a summary of the heart of that confessional statement, written in the 4th century:

        Through him [referring to Jesus] were all things were made. For us and for our salvation he (1) came down from heaven . . . (2) was born of the Virgin Mary . . . (3) was crucified under Pontius Pilate . . . (4) suffered, died, and was buried . . . (5) And on the third day he rose again.

        Do you get a sense of what that progression of ideas leaves out? The entire narrative of Jesus’ life is skipped over with a simple comma. Born. Died. Resurrected. It jumps from the cradle to the cross to the crown of glory in a breathless act of metaphysic logic. It references the incarnation—“God made flesh among us”—without much flesh!

        The God-with-us Emmanuel’s actual life is but a pause in an academic syllogism, piling up one premise on another leading to a cosmic conclusion. It neither breathes nor bleeds. No bread, no wine, no multitudes to feed. There are no confrontations with imperial agents, no stories of good Samaritans. Zacchaeus does not come down from his tree to return four-fold to all he has cheated. No hemorrhaging women are restored to community, no barren women provided a legacy. . . .

        There is, in short, very little “flesh dwelling among us” in that earliest of Christian creedal statements.” —continue reading Ken Sehested’s “Made flesh among us,” a sermon based on John 1:1-14

Just for fun. Take a virtual ride-on-a-rail down a snowy mountain in Utah. (2:36 video)

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Featured this week on prayer&politiks

• “Made flesh among us,” a sermon based on John 1:1-14

• “Testimony in a time of terror: Standing with the Word of God, for the earth, and against the world,” a litany for worship

• “Keeping watch,” a litany for worship inspired by Luke 2: 1-20

• “Joseph,” a litany for worship

• “Joseph,” a longer poem
 

©Ken Sehested @ prayerandpolitiks.org. Language not otherwise indicated above is that of the editor. Don’t let the “copyright” notice keep you from circulating material you find here (and elsewhere in this site). Reprint permission is hereby granted in advance for noncommercial purposes.

Your comments are always welcomed. If you have news, views, notes or quotes to add to the list above, please do. If you like what you read, pass this along to your friends. You can reach me directly at kensehested@prayerandpolitiks.org.

Joseph

A litany for worship inspired by Matthew 1:18-25

by Ken Sehested
{Adapted as a litany for worship from a longer poem by the same name.}

Joseph. Obscured brother, consigned to the margins of Incarnation’s story. Calloused hands now shield the shame of face disgraced.

Thoughts of Mary smudge the heart as tears smear the cheek. Betrothed of Mary now bulging with child. Whose? How, and Why?

Unable to provide more than squalid accommodation in your beloved’s night of travail. Enduring embarrassed encounters with wild-eyed shepherds and strangely-clothed pilgrims from obscure and distant lands, each with incredulous stories of starry encounters.

Did compliance with heaven’s intrigue cause your undoing? Was it more than your pride could endure?

Loving Mary more than posterity itself. A future eclipsed by divine drama, a fate unrecorded, left to the imagination of bath-robed youngsters in seasonal pageants.

Not forgotten in the heart of God or, even to this day, in the prayers of shipwrecked sailors and abandoned children.

St. Joseph. Consort of Mary, accomplice of God. Chaperon the prayers of all who disappear from history.

Vouchsafe the memory of every shadowed face, anonymous names, ’til their inscription in the Lamb’s Book of Life.

©ken sehested @ prayerandpolitiks.org

 

Made flesh among us

A sermon based on John 1:1-14

by Ken Sehested

        It was an unusual Christmas, to be sure. Our friends in Atlanta got their first snowy Christmas Day since the late 19th century. It’s been more than 40 years since we had a white Christmas here in Asheville. But then, I got notes from friends in Australia and South Africa who mentioned their beach barbecues on Christmas day. In the southern hemisphere this is summer, and none of our cultural hymns about “dreaming of a white Christmas,” or “dashing through the snow on a one-horse open sleigh,” or even one of my favorite Advent hymns, “In the Bleak Midwinter”—none of these work for more than half the world’s landmass.

        We had a wonderful Christmas at our house. All our kinfolk managed to safely dodge the worst of the weather. With 10 people in the house, two of them juiced-up preschoolers, shoveling snow and splitting firewood offered a welcome break from the clamor. Of course, it’s always a special treat to watch youngsters rip open Christmas gifts. And when we finished, our living room floor looked like a bomb had gone off in a Christmas wrapping paper factory.

        As you would expect, Jordan and Sydney got there share of toys, games, clothes and books. But you know what occupied them all evening? (And I mean the entire evening?) A large aluminum roasting pan filled with dry lentils, split peas and small white navy beans, along with a wide assortment of measuring cups and scoops. Kind of like an indoor sand box. It’s something Nancy invented a couple years ago, which we keep handy for the grandkids. Just goes to show that battery-operated gadgets and shiny plastic things provide very limited engagement with imagination. And not just for the kids.

        Needless to say, the 10 folk from our Circle who spent Christmas in Cuba didn’t join in Spanish renditions of carols “dreaming of a white Christmas.” (I hope you’ve had a chance to look through some of Chris Bell’s photos from their Cuban visit—Beth sent out a selection to our listserve yesterday.) Last night, when I was finishing up the bulletin, I couldn’t help myself—I decided to print one of those photos as a bulletin insert. I also sent this photo to a number of our Cuban friends with a thank-you note. Here’s what it said:

        "I've attached a photo taken by one of our members from their recent visit. This one is a “keeper" (as we say in colloquial English). Thanks for your care for their safety and comfort while they were there.

        "We share with you the conviction that God is most often encountered in the crossing of boundaries and borders of all kinds, whether far away or close at hand. And you played a role in interpreting the Spirit's presence for our members as they crossed the wall between our two countries and cultures.

        "I cannot stop thinking about how these young ones will repeat their stories of spending Christmas in Cuba for many decades to come. You have unleashed more than you realize!"

        If I had to summarize, in one brief sentence, what the author of John’s Gospel was saying in the first chapter, it would be this: That writer was saying that in Jesus, God is unleashing more than any of us realize. Those sentences which Mary Anne just read have been described by literary scholars as among the most elegant in all of literature for all the ages. And in comparison to the other three Gospels in the Newer Testament, John’s is uniformly judged to be the most mystical.

        Yet, to our ears, there is an awkward elusiveness to these words. When you hear “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God,” your first reaction is probably something like, “Say what? What you talkin’ ‘bout?”

        On Friday a number of us accepted St. Matthias’ Episcopal Church’s invitation to join with them for their Christmas Eve service. We had some great music and liturgy. At one point, though, when we read in unison the Nicene Creed, I remembered my complaint about many of the faith statements of the ancient Church. Here’s a summary of the heart of that confessional statement, written in the 4th century:

        "Through him [referring to Jesus] were all things were made. For us and for our salvation he (1) came down from heaven . . . (2) was born of the Virgin Mary . . . (3) was crucified under Pontius Pilate . . . (4) suffered, died, and was buried . . . (5) And on the third day he rose again."

        Do you get a sense of what that progression of ideas leaves out? The entire narrative of Jesus’ life is skipped over with a simple comma.

        Born. Died. Resurrected.

        It jumps from the cradle to the cross in a breathless act of metaphysic logic. It references the incarnation—“God made flesh among us”—without much flesh! The God-with-us Emmanuel’s actual life is but a pause in an academic syllogism, piling up one premise on another leading to a cosmic conclusion.

        It neither breathes nor bleeds. No bread, no wine, no multitudes to feed. There are no confrontations with imperial agents, no stories of good Samaritans. Zacchaeus does not come down from his tree to return four-fold to all he has cheated. No hemorrhaging women are restored to community, no barren women provided a legacy. There are no blind beggars with restored limbs and sight, nor good news announced to the poor, release to captives, no blessings delivered to the merciful, to the mournful, to the peacemakers; no enemies needing to be loved.

        There is, in short, very little “flesh dwelling among us” in that earliest of Christian creedal statements. There is no instruction on when and how and under what circumstances do we take troubled young people into our homes. No remembrance on the meaning for our continuing struggle of people like Rosa Parks and Harriet Tubman and Martin Luther King Jr. Not to mention people like Bob Smith and Robbie Williams and Monroe Gilmore right here in our own city.

        I dare say the God we know in the Abba of Jesus is uninterested in vague generalities and theoretical confessions of faith. Jesus declares to us in no uncertain terms that reconciliation with our neighbors, with the earth itself, is a profoundly fleshy affair. It is because of our “flesh-dwelling-among-us” faith that we spend so much time and money getting to know sisters and brothers in Cuba. It’s why we sponsor food drives for MANNA and risk arrest opposing mountain-top coal mining and the training for terrorism in our military schools and the torture of prisoners.

        The fact that Mary, Joseph and Jesus were for a time refugees helps remind us to advocate for refugees in our midst. It is why we spend so much time each and every week naming those we know and love—or those we have merely heard about with empathy—who suffer, whose health is failing, whose lives draw near to death. Because we believe that God fervently and passionately loves bodies is why we write letters of pastoral encouragement to women’s soccer coaches in distant cities fired from their work because of there sexual orientation, or neighbors in our own area harassed and threatened by bigots.

        It’s these and a gazillion other things, most of them modest, small, sometimes anonymous efforts, are central to the life and mission of this congregation. Flesh is not just special to us. It is the place and context where we meet God. Soil is not simply to be conserved. For we ourselves are the children of dust, and to dust we shall return. In doing so we return again to our Creator, to our Redeemer, and to the Sustainer of all life, despite all manner of suffering and death, for the Promise which grips our hearts, minds and souls is the assurance that one blessed day all tears will be dried and death shall be no more.

        Such is the promise of the One made flesh among us. When we are true to our calling, this is what gets unleashed on the world.

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©ken sehested @ prayerandpolitiks.org

Testimony time of terror (3)

Standing with the Word of God, for the earth and against the world: A litany for worship

by Ken Sehested

One: Our nation is at war, and our hearts are torn. The seeds of fear are planted in terror and harvested in violence.

All: How long, O Lord, how long?

One: The dream of a new order birthed in justice and baptized in mercy has been ruptured by the nightmare of bloody enmity.

All: How long, O Lord, how long?

One: But we still have our dreams, hard-won dreams, purchased with a price, beckoning us forward.

All: We still have a dream.

One: Hannah declared: “The bows of the mighty are broken, but the feeble gird on strength. The Lord raises up the poor from the dust; God lifts the needy from the ash heap, to inherit a seat of honor.” (1 Samuel 2: 1-8)

All: May it be so with us, according to your word.

One: One day, says Isaiah, “The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.”  (Isaiah 11:3-9)

All: May it be so with us, according to your word.

One: We long for the day when “every boot of the trampling warrior in battle tumult and every garment rolled in blood will be burned as fuel for the fire.” (Isaiah 9:6, 7)

All: May it be so with us, according to your word.

One: One day, says the Lord, all nations “shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.” (Micah 4:3-4)

All: May it be so with us, according to your word.

One: On that day the lame shall be restored, the outcast will be gathered, and God will change their shame into praise. (Zephaniah 3:19)

All: May it be so with us, according to your word.

One: Our hearts ache for the time when the People of God will again be anointed with the power to preach good news to the poor, to proclaim release to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord. (Luke 4:18-19)

All: May it be so with us, according to your word.

One: We testify to the coming “new heaven and new earth,” when God will wipe away every tear, and death shall be no more.” (Revelation 21:1-4)

All: Today we stand ready to be instruments of your peace.

One: Today we pledge to infect our young ones with these dreams.

All: To shout them from the mountain tops.

One: Blessed are you who linger in this season of lament, for you shall be comforted.

All: Alleluia! Thanks be to God!

 

©ken sehested @ prayerandpolitiks.org

News, views, notes, and quotes

Signs of the Times  •  9 December 2016  •  No. 99

Processional. “If your world has only done you wrong / And all you find yourself is all alone / And if there's no one there to see you through / I'll be there for you.” —The Mavericks, “Come Unto Me”

 Above: "Frog Tree," photo by Harfian Herdi.

Introduction

The renewing significance of Mary’s Magnificat

        At first glance, through modernity’s eyes, Mary’s encounter with the angel’s natal announcement—and her annunciating response—appears to be a form of self-subjugation.

        Is Luke’s story a case of a colonized mind? Did she actively concede to her own binding and bonding? Should we insist on a more assertive, individuated figure to front the Christmas story?

        I, for one, think not.

        Does the manger’s straw have a ghost of a chance against sharpened steel? Can there be any lingering question about the dominance of shock and awe’s rule?

        I, for one, think so. . . .

        Indeed, our deepest social need involves restoring a spiritual vision powerful enough to dispel the deception that we are on our own, that might makes right, that independence (freedom) involves no interdependence. . . .

        To highlight Mary’s subversive song of faith in Luke 1, the major theme of this issue of Signs of the Times records many small acts of resistance and rebuilding in public life. . . . And to support Luke’s tale we’ve enlisted another text (outside Advent’s lectionary guidance), from Matthew 11:28, where Jesus urged, “Come unto me all you who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest”—rest being anything but passivity. . . .

        There is an amazing array of songs that utilize the “Come Unto Me” refrain. . . . All of this issue’s musical recommendations come from that collection.

        In no way was Mary “meek and mild,” as Christmas hymnody would have us believe. What we urgently need to remember is that all the characteristics Gospel writers assigned to Jesus—savior, prince of peace, incarnate god, ruler of the world—were titles ascribed to Roman Emperor Caesar Augustus.

        The struggle over legitimate claim to that throne continues still. —read all of Ken Sehested’s “The renewing significance of Mary’s Magnificant”

Invocation. Listen to a reading (2:11) of Evelyn Underhill’s poem, “Immanence.”

Creative acts of resistance in everyday clothes. Singer/songwriter David LaMotte’s children’s book, White Flour, isn’t about tinseled holiday trees, but it is about the power unleashed in the Nativity. (5:42 video. You can also buy the book.)

¶ “Meet the Texas man who went viral after standing outside a mosque with a sign reading ‘You Belong.’" (0:38 video. Thanks Bill.)

First urban “agrihood.” “This week, the Michigan Urban Farming Initiative (see photo at left by Michelle & Chris Gerard ) revealed its plans for the first Sustainable Urban Agrihood in the North End [of Detroit]. Wait, an agrihood? It’s an alternative neighborhood growth model, positioning agriculture as the centerpiece of a mixed-use development. There are some agrihoods around the country, but in rural areas. This is the first within a city.” —Robin Runyan, Curbed Detroit

Call to worship. “Fretfully does my heart drag its heels into the sanctuary of delight. For my wanton days and weary praise reveal the toll taken by life’s relentless demands. / To where shall I appeal for release from such encumbrance? To whom shall I entreat to lay these burdens down? —continued reading Ken Sehested’s “Come Unto Me,” a litany for worship inspired by Matthew 11:28-30

 ¶ “All geography is local, and the salvation of that grand generality, “the environment,” often comes down to a fight on the part of local citizens to defend a particular river, forest, or at-risk species. . . .
        “As important as resistance efforts will be, pouring all our energy into opposition may be poor strategy. Just as important will be building local alternatives—cooperative institutions and enterprises, including community land trusts, city-owned public banks, credit unions, and publicly owned utilities investing in renewables. . . .”
        “Localism is a long, slow, patient path that requires trust, patience, and hard work. Such mundane work may sound boring in a time of political crisis and turmoil. But it may soon get a lot more interesting.” —Richard Heinberg, “Localism in the Age of Trump," commondreams

For an extended personal mediation or group discussion. “Walking with Oak Creek” is a very moving 33-minute documentary about the attack against a Sikh place of worship in Wisconsin and the community’s response. Available on-line or order a free DVD. (Thanks Dan.)

Hymn of praise. “Come Unto Me,” Little Lucy Smith Singers (gospel).

Between the 8 November election through 29 November, the Southern Poverty Law Center tallied 867 cases of hateful harassment and intimidation in the US. —Holly Yan, Kristina & Kylie Walker, CNN

Hate crimes in New York City more than doubled (compared to the same period last year) since Donald J. Trump won the presidential election. —Sarah Maslin Nir, New York Times

Hymn of consolation. “Come Unto Me,” The Chuck Wagon Gang (country).

¶ “On Monday, Native Americans conducted a forgiveness ceremony with U.S. veterans at the Standing Rock casino, giving the veterans an opportunity to atone for military actions conducted against Natives throughout history.” —Jenna Amatuill, Huffington Post

Left: Native American elders led a ritual of forgiveness for US military veterans. Photo by Josh Morgan for Huffington Post.

Confession. “O God, I am frightened. Anxious are my waking hours and fretful is my sleep. Even as I pray I sense that desert sands in remote places are readied, eager, to bleach the bones of mothers’ sons, fathers’ daughters, children of us all. The corrupt, lustful glory of vain rulers now erupts across parched land. Hear our prayer, O Lord.” —continue reading Ken Sehested’s “Spirits collide: A conversation with Isaiah 35”

Hymn of confirmation. “Come Unto Me,” The Bishops (bluegrass).

“Twenty kids marched around a multipurpose room at Duke Memorial United Methodist Church on a recent Thursday, following the path of a cardboard highway that a day earlier they discovered had divided the city’s neighborhoods and altered their vision for the community.

Right: Children sing at the community organizing camp in Durham, N.C. Photo via Franklin Golden/RNS.]

        “‘Ain’t gonna let the freeway turn me around,’ they sang, hearkening back to the civil rights activism of the 1960s.
        “Instead of the traditional Vacation Bible School, this downtown church partnered with seven other congregations—black, white, Baptist, Jewish, Episcopal, Pentecostal, and nondenominational—to put on a community-organizing camp for kids aged 4 to 12.” —Jesse James DeCanto, “Forget VBS. These Summer Camps Teach Kids to Be Community Activists,” sojo.net

Words of assurance. “Come unto me, all ye that labor / And are heavy laden, I will give you rest / Take my yoke upon you and learn from me / For I am meek and lowly in heart.” —Elvis Presley, “Come Unto Me” (rockabilly)

¶ “Muslim, Christian, Jewish and Buddhist faith leaders gathered at Masjid Muhammad, the oldest mosque in our nation’s capital, to express solidarity with the Muslim community through a press conference and by joining in Friday prayers at the mosque.” —Drew Gibson, Shoulder to Shoulder

Signs like the one at left have appeared in numerous neighborhoods across the US.

Professing our faith. From Rob Brezsny book, Pronoia Is the Antidote for Paranoia. “‘Pronoia’ is fueled by a drive to cultivate happiness and a determination to practice an aggressive form of gratitude that systematically identifies the things that are working well. But it is not a soothing diversion meant for timid Pollyannas strung out on optimistic delusions. . . . On the contrary, we build our optimism not through a repression of difficulty, but rather a vigorous engagement with it. We understand that the best way to attract blessings is to grapple with the knottiest enigmas." (Thanks Abigail.)

Hymn of intercession. “Are you looking for someone to be gentle / With your broken heart your shattered dreams / And are you searching for someone who'll be faithful / To you no matter what life brings.” —Nicole C. Mullen, “Come Unto Me”

When only the blues will do. “Come Unto Me,” Dawkins and Dawkins (rhythm & blues).

By far my favorite Presidential Medal of Freedom award was to Ellen DeGeneres. (2:17 video)

Preach it. “It’s time to put Herod back in Christmas. Not because we need any more Herods, but because it reveals that the sweet manger was placed in the midst of grave danger.” —continue reading Nancy Hastings Sehested’s sermon, “All’s wild with the world”

¶ “It is hard to know specifically how to position yourself in a country that can elect a man with such staggering ineptitude and open animus. It makes you doubt whatever faith you had in the country itself. . . . When I think of all these people [who will suffer under a Trump presidency] and then think of all the people who voted to make this man president—and those who didn’t vote, thereby easing the way for his ascension—I cannot help but feel some measure of anger. I must deal with that anger. I don’t want to wrestle it to the ground; I want to harness it.” —Charles M. Blow, “America Elects a Bigot,” The New York Times

Hymn of decision. “Come Unto Me,” West Coast Mennonite Chamber Choir.

¶ “Before we go into hard core resistance mode, we should listen carefully to the fear and sense of loss that was strong enough to overlook the obvious lack of decency. While it is hard to overlook the hot froth whipped up around race and gender we just don’t know how much was also about the loss of moral credibility of the privileged. We just elected one of the most weirdly privileged insiders of them all, but I know that’s most of his supporters were certainly not. We won’t get anywhere if we don’t listen.” —Gary Gunderson, “apart”

Call to the table. “It is impossible, in the long run, to cleave the desire to help people from the duty to respect them. The smug style, at bottom, is a failure of empathy. Further: It is a failure to believe that empathy has any value at all. It is the notion that anybody worthy of liberal time and attention and respect must capitulate, immediately, to the Good Facts.
        “This is not a call for civility. Manners are not enough. The smug style did not arise by accident, and it cannot be abolished with a little self-reproach. So long as liberals cannot find common cause with the larger section of the American working class, they will search for reasons to justify that failure. They will resent them. They will find, over and over, how easy it is to justify abandoning them further. They will choose the smug style.” —Emmett Rensin, “The smug style in American liberalism,” Vox

¶ “Speaking to MSNBC on Saturday morning, Dallas Mayor Mike Rawlings was asked to discuss the growing anxiety over Syrian refugees entering the United States, purportedly due to concerns they could be potential agents for militant groups such as ISIS. . . . He responded, ‘I am more fearful of large gatherings of white men that come into schools, theaters and shoot people up, but we don’t isolate young white men on this issue.’” —Jack Jenkins, ThinkProgress

The state of our disunion. “It’s about the spirit of Christmas, you know, being out shopping with your family and all.  —man interviewed on “Black Friday,” the day after Thanksgiving

Can’t makes this sh*t up. This “Hipster Nativity Set” (pictured at right) can be yours for only $129.99. See more photos at Tara McGinley, “Sweet Jesus.” (Thanks Susan.)

Best one-liner. “I don’t think God really cares about who wins football games.” —last year’s Super Bowl-winning Denver Broncos quarterback (and future hall-of-famer) Peyton Manning

For the beauty of the earth. Watch this National Geographic video (1:51) of the world’s second-largest tree, the “President” in Sequoia National Park, photographed during a snow storm. The 3,200-year-old giant sequoia rises to a height of 247 feet and carries an estimated two billion needles. 

Altar call. “Come Unto Me,” Take 6 (jazz).

Benediction. “The Christmas story is not about how blessed it is to be givers but about how essential it is to see ourselves as receivers. We prefer to think of ourselves as givers—powerful, competent, self-sufficient, capable people whose goodness motivates us to employ some of our power, competence and gifts to benefit the less fortunate. Which is a direct contradiction of the biblical account of the first Christmas. There we are portrayed not as the givers we wish we were but as the receivers we are.” —William Willimon

Recessional. “Come Unto Me,” Metropolitan Tabernacle, London (traditional hymn).

Lectionary for Sunday next. “Joseph: Obscured brother / consigned to the margins / of Incarnation narrative. / Carpentry-calloused hands / now shield the shame / of sagging face, drooping, disgraced. / Chiseled lines prematurely sculpting / age in youthful countenance. / Thoughts of Mary smudge the heart / as tears smear the face.” —continue reading Ken Sehested’s poem, “Joseph,” inspired by Matthew 1:18-25

Just for fun. Mr. Bean directs the Christmas orchestra (2:22 video).

More than just for fun—this is PRICELESS. “Christmas According to Kids, Southland Christian Church.” (3:15 video. Thanks Abigail.)

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Featured this week on prayer&politiks

• “All’s wild with the world,” a sermon on Mary’s “Magnificat” by Nancy Hastings Sehested

• “Spirits collide: A conversation with Isaiah 35”

• “Come Unto Me,” a litany for worship inspired by Matthew 11:28-30

• “Joseph,” a poem inspired by Matthew 1:18-25

Other featured

• “Advent & Christmas resources for worship,” litanies, poems, sermons and new lyrics to old hymns
• “Prince of Peace: The birth of Jesus and the purposes of God,” a collection of texts
• “New secrets, waiting to be found,” a post-election sermon.  Or view a video of the sermon.

©Ken Sehested @ prayerandpolitiks.org. Language not otherwise indicated above is that of the editor. Don’t let the “copyright” notice keep you from circulating material you find here (and elsewhere in this site). Reprint permission is hereby granted in advance for noncommercial purposes.

Your comments are always welcomed. If you have news, views, notes or quotes to add to the list above, please do. If you like what you read, pass this along to your friends. You can reach me directly at kensehested@prayerandpolitiks.org.

Come Unto Me

A litany for worship inspired by Matthew 11:28-30

by Ken Sehested

Fretfully does my heart drag its heels into the sanctuary of delight. For my wanton days and weary praise reveal the toll taken by life’s relentless demands.

Come unto me, and I shall give you rest.

To where shall I appeal for release from such encumbrance? To whom shall I entreat to lay these burdens down?

Come unto me, and I shall give you rest.

Attend the sighs of your world-weary children, oh Father of fealty, oh Mother of mercy.

Come unto me, and I shall give you rest.

Yoke us to provident release from sin’s increase, unburdening strain and stress. Grant rest and relief from heartache and grief; grant power to praise and to bless.

Come unto me, and I shall give you rest.

© ken sehested @ prayerandpolitiks.org

Spirits collide

A conversation with Isaiah 35

by Ken Sehested

A meditation written in the fall of 1990 as half a million US troops mustered in Saudia Arabia
for an assault (The Gulf War) on Iraqi forces occupying Kuwait. It was the presence of
these troops in one of Islam’s most sacred terrains that provoked Osama bin Laden
to create al-Qaeda to launch his terror campaign.

O God, I am frightened. Anxious are my waking hours and fretful is my sleep. Even as I pray I sense that desert sands in remote places are readied, eager, to bleach the bones of mothers’ sons, fathers’ daughters, children of us all. The corrupt, lustful glory of vain rulers now erupts across parched land. Hear our prayer, O Lord.

        The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad, the desert shall rejoice and blossom;
        like the crocus it shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice with joy and singing.
        The glory of Lebanon shall be given to it, the majesty of Carmel and Sharon.
        They shall see the glory of the Lord, the majesty of our God.

O Lord, if only my hands were powerful, enough to shape a new future. If only my legs could run, run and tell, tell of mercy, of kindness. My heart trembles within me, shaking my flesh, shaking the earth. Is no one to hear, to rescue, to avert this bloodletting? Have hearts so hardened, more brittle than crusts of bread?

        Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees.
        Say to those who are of a fearful heart, “Be strong, fear not!
        Behold, your God will come with vengeance,
        with the recompense of God. The Lord will come and save you.”

God come! Come and see. Come and hear!! None see. None hear. Blindness rages like a wounded lion; deafness sears shut the mouths of ancients. No music swells, except that of rhythmic cannon. No water flows for parched bodies, souls. All laughter is of ravenous jackals. All life is grass.

        Then the eyes of the blind shall open, and the ears of the deaf, unstopped;
        then shall the lame leap like a hart, and the tongue of the dumb sing for joy.
        For waters shall break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert;
        the burning sand shall become a pool, and the thirsty ground springs of water;
        the haunt of jackals shall become a swamp, the grass shall become reeds and rushes.

Fools are confirmed: there is no God. None but the vengeful escape. Holy Ways and Holy Days are crushed to gravel. Ransom comes as human flesh, bargained for gold (or oil). Joy is mocked; gladness, a sneer. Sorrow, sadness is all I hear. Those who know say Zion is won only by the barrel of a gun. Is it really so? Tell me, if you can, if you will, if you know: What road is this?

        And a highway shall be there, and it shall be called the Holy Way;
        the unclean shall not pass over it, and fools shall not err therein.
        No lion shall be there, nor shall any ravenous beast come upon it;
        they shall not be found there, but the redeemed shall walk there.
        And the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with singing;
        everlasting joy shall be upon their heads; they shall obtain joy and gladness,
        and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.

Tell me, if you can, if you will, if you know: What road is this?

Hear our prayer, O Lord.
Hear our prayer, O Lord.
Incline thine ear to us,
and grant us thy peace.

Amen.

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Artwork above ©suntreeriver.
© ken sehested @ prayerandpolitiks.org

All’s wild with the world

A sermon on Mary's "Magnificat"

by Nancy Hastings Sehested

The stories this time of year are so familiar that we might be lulled into the idea that they are tame and reasonable. There is nothing much tame in these stories, in spite of the fact that Luke begins his storytelling to most excellent Theophilus, “friend of God," by giving a really good reason for it all: "I decided after investigating everything carefully from the very first, to write an orderly account for you (Luke 1:3)."

Really, Luke? After investigating everything carefully, this is your orderly account? Aren’t you glad he told us?

Luke expected us to know quite a bit about the backdrop of the stories. His very first line after his introduction: In the days of King Herod of Judea.

Oh, most excellent Theophilus-es, all of you honorable friends of God—if we miss this opening, we miss the meaning. We might miss the divine mischief-making in the mayhem. It’s time to put Herod back in Christmas.  Not because we need any more Herods, but because it reveals that the sweet manger was placed in the midst of grave danger.

In the days of King Herod . . . in the days when innocents were being killed, children were being killed.

In those days of King Herod . . . a census was devised to document the undocumented for government control, as well as to ensure taxation of the most vulnerable ones.

In the days of King Herod . . . the lives of the people without power mattered little to those who ruled the land.

In the days of King Herod . . . hunger was common, shelter was scarce and people lived in fear for their lives and the lives of their children.  

So now we know for certain those days are our days. This story is our story.

The story unfolds not in the palaces of power but in tiny places, places hardly worth a mention. They were places where the “important” stuff usually didn’t happen, like in a sanctuary, in a hill country, in a house in Nazareth, in a town of Bethlehem, in a manger, in the fields. And into those small places walked people easily ignored and dismissed, like priests, peasants, animals, innkeepers, babies, and shepherds. Smallish things happened, things you might expect to hear around a campfire or a dinner table or a church retreat.

A priest lost his voice when his infertile wife turned up pregnant. The priest’s pregnant wife invited her shamed teenage pregnant cousin into her house for sanctuary. The priest’s wife gave birth to a baby who was named one of the most common names in the baby scrolls of those times, John.

Then the young pregnant girl found her voice and discovered she had a talent for song-writing and wrote a song for the ages. The young teen’s fiancé decided not to leave her but stayed with her through the whole labor and delivery as well as through the singing of a caroling group of shepherds. And a baby was born. A baby.

Fascinating story but not earth-shattering, except for those angels, the messengers who had the ability to pop up out of nowhere to give a message to nobodies and to frighten already frightened people.

The messengers stepped into the threshold places, between what is seen and unseen, between what can be calculated and what can be experienced. They offered an invitation to make a journey with the Spirit. They showed up during the worst of times, just when no one thought anything could be done, and their message was: God is busy, busy, busy. God is having the time of Her life, and you’re invited to be part of it.

Mary was troubled with the message. The angel Gabriel offered a slim shred of assurance. “Don’t be afraid.” Then the messenger made attempts to explain things, but his message showed some room for improvement.

He said, “God’s Spirit is popping up all over the place, and one of the designated sights is your body. God-life will be birthed through you. You’re going to have a baby! Yes, that’s right. Oh, don’t thank me. Thank the Holy Dreamer. She thought this one up. I’m just the messenger.”

The language of the angel was particular and scandalous. “This baby will be great. The son of the Most High. The son of God.”  It was language used for the emperor of the land—you know the one—Emperor Caesar Augustus.

God was scheming up a radical plan of counter-insurgency, a divine gift of power that was embedded in the tiny womb of a woman of seeming insignificance. Mary’s question of “How can this be?” was more a question of theology than biology. What was God up to? And with her?

We stand beside Mary as astonished as she is. God’s spirit can be birthed through us . . . unlikely us. God becomes tiny hands and feet and face. God becomes a needy, squalling baby.

The angel left God’s calling card. “Nothing is impossible with God.”

And with that, Mary courageously said yes to what she could not fully comprehend, any more than we can understand how our seemingly ordinariness can become extraordinary holy creations. Mary went with haste to the hill country to see her cousin Elizabeth.

Elizabeth could’ve said, “Oh, no! This is a total disaster!” She could’ve shunned her. She could’ve said, “You’ve brought shame on this family.” She could’ve rebuked her, humiliated her, dismissed her.

But Elizabeth’s body spoke up even before her words could utter a sound. Her body told the truth before her lips had a chance to voice it. Her own baby leapt in her womb. There was life stirring in her dark womb where she never imagined such an impossible possibility at her age. She welcomed Mary. She blessed Mary.

And in such an embrace another miracle came forth. A song burst out of Mary. A song of joy and praise, oh yes. But a song that placed this miracle smack in the middle of the King Herod world.  She said something like this:

I’m overflowing with thanks to God.
      I’m dancing to the song of God.
God chose me, of all people.
      I’m blessed beyond words.
God has done great things for me. Just look at me!
      God’s mercy is endless.
I hope my baby knows such mercy.
      I hope my baby knows a world full of God’s creating,
Where the high and mighty proud are put in their place—their place right alongside all of us.
      I hope my baby knows a world where tyrants and terrorists become harmless,
And those whose lives never mattered, all matter.
      I hope my baby knows a world where the hungry have a taste of plenty,
And the over-stuffed know the gnaw of hunger.
      I hope my baby knows a world where mercies pile higher than cruelties,
And where the promise of peace cascades through every generation.

The hopes and fears of all the years burst forth in this song. Mary discovered that she mattered to God. Us too? Just when we think that our tiny life could not possibly matter in the ways that might matter against the horrors of Herod times, the Mischief-Maker shows up with divine design to give us a part to play.

Our faith is not a message until it’s an experience. It is first birthed in us through body and soul. Mary’s yes was a journey of love incarnated in the mess and miracle of a Herod world.

[Note: I picked up and held a small globe in one hand and a baby in the other hand for the final words of the sermon.]

Our hope is still for a world without the horrors of Herod. Such a hope requires all the love that is within us. God’s still in the birthing room and all’s wild with the world.

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Circle of Mercy Congregation
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