Tag: Christmas

Merry Christmas!

The following was written a decade or so ago by Jim Wallis, the founder and editor of Sojourners magazine. I read it periodically as a reminder of the significance of what we celebrate today in the Western world (and January 7th in Eastern traditions). This perfectly captures the essence of what we celebrate each Christmas…

What is Christmas? It is the celebration of the Incarnation, God’s becoming flesh — human — and entering into history in the form of a vulnerable baby born to a poor, teenage mother in a dirty animal stall. Simply amazing. That Mary was homeless at the time, a member of a people oppressed by the imperial power of an occupied country whose local political leader, Herod, was so threatened by the baby’s birth that he killed countless children in a vain attempt to destroy the Christ child, all adds compelling historical and political context to the Advent season.

The theological claim that sets Christianity apart from any other faith tradition is the Incarnation. God has come into the world to save us. God became like us to bring us back to God and show us what it means to be truly human.

That is the meaning of the Incarnation. That is the reason for the season.

In Jesus Christ, God hits the streets.

It is theologically and spiritually significant that the Incarnation came to our poorest streets. That Jesus was born poor, later announces his mission at Nazareth as “bringing good news to the poor,” and finally tells us that how we treat “the least of these” is his measure of how we treat him and how he will judge us as the Son of God, radically defines the social context and meaning of the Incarnation of God in Christ. And it clearly reveals the real meaning of Christmas.

The other explicit message of the Incarnation is that Jesus the Christ’s arrival will mean “peace on earth, good will toward men.” He is “the mighty God, the everlasting Father, and the Prince of Peace.” Jesus later calls on his disciples to turn the other cheek, practice humility, walk the extra mile, put away their swords, love their neighbors — and even their enemies — and says that in his kingdom, it is the peacemakers who will be called the children of God. Christ will end our warring ways, bringing reconciliation to God and to one another.

Emmanuel – God with us!

Mary’s Poem

I absolutely love poetry – when I hear it read. I remember attending a Cursillo weekend event in the mid-1980s where one of the spiritual directors read poems from his favorite author. The words leaped off the page and drew me in, so much so that I went out and bought the book for myself. To my disappointment, as I read from the book, the poems did nothing for me. I think we engineering-types struggle to read poetic literature. I know I do. To my dismay, the richness of so much poetry just never seems to leave the pages.

I’ve heard many people say they struggle reading Hebrew poetry, like the Psalms, as did I for about the first 45 years of my life. Then something changed. I took a seminary course in Psalms through the Reformed Theological Seminary in the mid-1990s. I remember asking the professor which English translation of the Bible gives us the best sense of the meter and intent of these great Hebrew poems and songs. He suggested reading from the New American Standard Bible. Thus began a new appreciation of Hebrew poetry.

Mary’s Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55) is certainly in the genre of Hebrew poetry. It reads like many of the Psalms, laced with thanksgiving and admiration of God along with declarations of his redemptive and loyal characteristics. We should keep in mind that Mary would have been quite familiar with Hebrew poetry, especially the Psalms. She might likely have sung some of the Psalms during her week-long journey to visit her cousin, Elizabeth.

It was at Elizabeth’s home that Mary mouthed the Magnificat. Magnificat is the title attributed to her poem/song of praise which was a response to Elizabeth’s reception and words of blessing of Mary and her unborn baby, Jesus. The term Magnificat comes from the opening line of the poem in the Latin Vulgate Bible – Magnificat anima mea Dominum, “My soul magnifies the Lord.” 

Though Mary’s poem appears to have been spontaneous, one could/should assume the contents could have resulted from things she would have been pondering since the visit from the angel, Gabriel, and most likely during her long trip to visit Elizabeth. I think of a couple different times in the Gospels that speak of Mary’s treasuring and pondering of events unfolding in her life:  Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart (Luke 2:19, after the visit from the shepherds the night of Jesus’ birth) and his [Jesus’] mother treasured up all these things in her heart (Luke 2:51, after the young lad went missing and was found discussing theology with the teachers in the Temple). 

And certainly, a visit from an angel declaring that she would birth the Messiah would be cause for much pondering!

If you recall, when Mary reached Elizabeth’s home and greeted her, Elizabeth’s baby John leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit, and she exclaimed with a loud cry, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb! And why is this granted to me that the mother of my Lord should come to me? For behold, when the sound of your greeting came to my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord” (Luke 1:39-45). Elizabeth commended Mary for her faith and confirmed the angel Gabriel’s proclamation that she would indeed carry the Messiah in her womb. No wonder Mary broke into song (though scripture doesn’t indicate that she sang) and said…

“My soul magnifies the Lord,
47     and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
48 for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant.
    For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
49 for he who is mighty has done great things for me,
    and holy is his name.
50 And his mercy* is for those who fear him
    from generation to generation.
51 He has shown strength with his arm;
    he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts;
52 he has brought down the mighty from their thrones
    and exalted those of humble estate;
53 he has filled the hungry with good things,
    and the rich he has sent away empty.
54 He has helped his servant Israel,
    in remembrance of his mercy,
55 as he spoke to our fathers,
    to Abraham and to his offspring forever.” (ESV)

Read the Magnificat again and you will see the gospel, the good news that accompanies the arrival of a king.  This King will be different than all other kings of the earth. Most kings, upon arrival, exalt those with wealth, position, and power. Most kings, upon arrival, throw celebrations and feasts for those of wealth, position, and power – celebrations and feasts catered by servants of humble estate.  This King arrived through a servant of humble estate.  This King would reverse the order, exalting the humble and humbling the exalted. 

No wonder the late pastor and author, Eugene Peterson, referred to this good news as the great reversal. No wonder Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the German pastor and theologian who was executed by the Nazis, called the Magnificat “the most passionate, the wildest, one might even say the most revolutionary hymn ever sung.”

* Mercy is that rich Hebrew word, hesed, that we have previously discussed.

Barrington Bunny, The Story

A couple years ago I mentioned in a blog post Martin Bell’s short story, Barrington Bunny, from his 1983 book, The Way of the Wolf: The Gospel in New Images. Here’s the story, should you want to read it this Christmas season…

ONCE upon a time in a large forest there lived a very furry bunny.  He had one lop ear, a tiny black nose, and unusually shiny eyes.  His name was Barrington.

Barrington was not really a very handsome bunny.  He was brown and speckled and his ears didn’t stand upright.  But he could hop, and he was, as I have said, very furry.

In a way, winter is fun for bunnies.  After all, it gives them an opportunity to hop in the snow and then turn around to see where they have hopped.  So, in a way, winter was fun for Barrington.

But in another way winter made Barrington sad.  For, you see, winter marked the time when all of the animal families got together in their cozy homes to celebrate Christmas.  He could hop, and he was very furry.  But as far as Barrington knew, he was the only bunny in the forest.

When Christmas Eve finally came, Barrington did not feel like going home all by himself.  So he decided that he would hop for a while in the clearing in the center of the forest. 

Hop.  Hop.  Hippity-hop.  Barrington made tracks in the fresh snow.

Hop.  Hop.  Hippity-hop.  Then he cocked his head and looked back at the wonderful designs he had made.

“Bunnies,” he thought to himself, “can hop.  And they are very warm, too, because of how furry they are.”

(But Barrington didn’t really know whether or not this was true of all bunnies, since he had never met another bunny.)

When it got too dark to see the tracks he was making, Barrington made up his mind to go home.

On his way, however, he passed a large oak tree.  High in the branches, there was a great deal of excited chattering going on.  Barrington looked up.  It was a squirrel family!  What a marvelous time they seemed to be having.

“Hello, up there,” called Barrington.

“Hello, down there,” came the reply.

“Having a Christmas party?” asked Barrington.

“Oh, yes!” answered the squirrels.  “It’s Christmas Eve.  Everybody is having a Christmas party!”

“May I come to your party?” Said Barrington softly.

“Are you a squirrel?”

“No.”

“What are you, then?”

“A bunny.”

“A bunny?”

“Yes.”

“Well, how can you come to the party if you’re a bunny?  Bunnies can’t climb trees.”

“That’s true,” said Barrington thoughtfully.  “But I can hop and I’m very furry and warm.”

“We’re sorry,” called the squirrels.  “We don’t know anything about hopping and being furry, but we do know that in order to come to our house you have to be able to climb trees.”

“Oh, well,” said Barrington.  “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” chattered the squirrels.

And the unfortunate bunny hopped off toward his tiny house.

It was beginning to snow when Barrington reached the river.  Near the river bank was a wonderfully constructed house of sticks and mud.  Inside there was singing.

“It’s the beavers,” thought Barrington.  “Maybe they will let me come to their party.”

And so he knocked on the door.

“Who’s out there?” called a voice.

“Barrington Bunny,” he replied.

There was a long pause and then a shiny beaver head broke the water.

“Hello, Barrington,” said the beaver.

“May I come to your Christmas party?” asked Barrington.

The beaver thought for a while and then he said, “I suppose so.  Do you know how to swim?”

“No,” said Barrington, “but I can hop and I am very furry and warm.”

“Sorry,” said the beaver.  “I don’t know anything about hopping and being furry, but I do know that in order to come to our house you have to be able to swim.”

“Oh, well,” Barrington muttered, his eyes filling with tears.  “I suppose that’s true – Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” call the beaver.  And he disappeared beneath the surface of the water.

Even being furry as he was, Barrington was beginning to get cold.  And the snow was falling so hard that his tiny, bunny eyes could scarcely see what was ahead of him.

He was almost home, however, when he heard the excited squeaking of field mice beneath the ground.

“It’s a party,” thought Barrington.  And suddenly he blurted out through his tears, “Hello, field mice.  This is Barrington Bunny.  May I come to your party?”

But the wind was howling so loudly and Barrington was sobbing so much that no one heard him.

And when there was no response at all, Barrington just sat down in the snow and began to cry with all his might.

“Bunnies,” he thought, “aren’t good to anyone.  What good is it to be furry and to be able to hop if you don’t have any family on Christmas Eve?”

Barrington cried and cried.  When he stopped crying he began to bite on his bunny’s foot, but he did not move from where he was sitting in the snow.

Suddenly, Barrington was aware that he was not alone.  He looked up and strained his shiny eyes to see who was there.

To his surprise, he saw a great silver wolf.  The wolf was large and strong and his eyes flashed fire.  He was the most beautiful animal Barrington had ever seen.

For a long time, the silver wolf didn’t say anything at all.  He just stood there and looked at Barrington with those terrible eyes.

Then slowly and deliberately the wolf spoke.  “Barrington,” he asked in a gentle voice, “why are you sitting in the snow?”

“Because it’s Christmas Eve,” said Barrington, “and I don’t have any family, and bunnies aren’t any good to anyone.”

“Bunnies are, too, good,” said the wolf.  “Bunnies can hop and they are very warm.”

“What good is that?” Barrington sniffled.

“It is very good indeed,” the wolf went on, “because it is a gift that bunnies are given, a free gift that bunnies are given, a free gift with no strings attached.  And every gift that is given to anyone is given for a reason.  Someday you will see why it is good to hop and to be warm and furry.”

“But it’s Christmas,” moaned Barrington, “and I’m all alone.  I don’t have any family at all.”

“Of course you do,” replied the great silver wolf.  “All of the animals in the forest are your family.”

And then the wolf disappeared.  He simply wasn’t there.  Barrington had only blinked his eyes, and when he looked – the wolf was gone.

“All of the animals in the forest are my family,” thought Barrington.  “It’s good to be a bunny.  Bunnies can hop.  That’s a gift.”  And then he said it again.  “A gift.  A free gift.”

On into the night, Barrington worked.  First, he found the best stick that he could.  (And that was difficult because of the snow.)

Then hop.  Hop.  Hippity-hop.  To beaver’s house.  He left the stick just outside the door. 

With a note on it that read: “Here is a good stick for your house.  It is a gift.  A free gift.  No strings attached.  Signed, a member of your family.”

“It is a good thing that I can hop,” he thought, “because the snow is very deep.”

Then Barrington dug and dug.  Soon he had gathered together enough dead leaves and grass to make the squirrel’s nest warmer.  Hop.  Hop.  Hippity-hop.

He laid the grass and leaves just under the large oak tree and attached this message: “A gift.  A free gift.  From a member of your family.”

It was late when Barrington finally started home.  And what made things worse was that he knew a blizzard was beginning.

Hop.  Hop.  Hippity-hop.

Soon poor Barrington was lost.  The wind howled furiously, and it was very, very cold.  “It certainly is cold,” he said out loud.  “It’s a good thing I’m so furry.  But if I don’t find my way home pretty soon even I might freeze!”

Squeak.  Squeak. . . .

And then he saw it – a baby field mouse lost in the snow.  And the little mouse was crying.

“Hello, little mouse,” Barrington called.

“Don’t cry.  I’ll be right there.”  Hippity-hop and Barrington was beside the tiny mouse.

“I’m lost,” sobbed the little fellow.  “I’ll never find my way home, and I know I’m going to freeze.”

“You won’t freeze,” said Barrington.  “I’m a bunny and bunnies are very furry and warm. 

You stay right where you are and I’ll cover you up.”

Barrington lay on top of the little mouse and hugged him tightly.  The tiny fellow felt himself surrounded by warm fur.  He cried for a while but soon, snug and warm, he fell asleep.

Barrington had only two thoughts on that long, cold night.  First, he thought, “It’s good to be a bunny.  Bunnies are very furry and warm.”  And then, when he felt the heart of the tiny mouse beneath him beating regularly, he thought, “All of the animals in the forest are my family.”

The next morning, the field mice found their little boy, asleep in the snow, warm and snug beneath the furry carcass of a dead bunny.  Their relief and excitement was so great that they didn’t even think to question where the bunny had come from.

And as for the beavers and the squirrels, they still wonder which member of their family left the little gifts for them that Christmas Eve.

After the field mice had left, Barrington’s frozen body simply lay in the snow.  There was no sound except that of the howling wind.  And no one anywhere in the forest noticed the great silver wolf who came to stand beside that brown, lop-eared carcass.

But the wolf did come.

And he stood there.

Without moving or saying a word.

All Christmas Day.

Until it was night.

And then he disappeared into the forest.

Barrington Bunny

“A gift. A free gift. No strings attached.”

The above quote was lifted from a short story by Martin Bell called Barrington Bunny. It’s a Christmas story. And an Easter story. The two can’t be separated. Both are about giving. And about sacrifice.

In our culture, we usually give from our surpluses, our extra, when we can afford it. And in our economy today, fewer of us can afford it. But in God’s economy, giving is sacrificial…

Consider Jesus’ discourse with his disciples, after observing the giving habits of people at the temple: Jesus sat down opposite the place where the offerings were put and watched the crowd putting their money into the temple treasury. Many rich people threw in large amounts. But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a fraction of a penny. Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, “I tell you the truth, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on.” (Mark 12: 41-44)

Jesus equates giving to sacrifice. He’s kind of an authority on the subject. He was the greatest unconditional gift. A free gift. No strings attached. The well-known scripture passage tells us just that: For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. (John 3:16)

So what do we do with this? What of us? The Apostle John made sure that we understood the principle that Jesus modeled, “God loved, so he gave,” transferred to us his disciples, his followers. This is what he wrote to early believers and was captured in the New Testament book of 1 John: This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for one another. (1 John 3:16)

God loved, so he gave the ultimate gift – Jesus. A free gift. No strings attached.

Jesus loved, so he gave the ultimate gift – his life. A free gift. A sacrificial gift. No strings attached.

We are called to love, to give of ourselves – free gifts. Sacrificial gifts. With no strings attached.

This Christmas, ponder on the significance that God loved, so he gave. So simple and yet so profound. This is the true meaning of Christmas. And of Easter.