This will be the first Christmas Eve in twenty-seven years that I’m not preaching. I confess to not feeling overwhelming grief. It’s a tough gig—almost impossible to pitch the message in a way that is meaningful to this twice a year crowd. Start with the families that show up for the “tradition” and a stocking-full of carols. They want their gospel preached neat, with none of that watered down liberal contextualizing. Then there are the smug modernists, who’ve taken a Religion 101 course, and know their facts: Jesus was born in Nazareth, not Bethlehem; “virgin” is a mistranslation of the Hebrew word for young girl; Herod never really ordered the death of all those male children; the whole birth narrative is a legendary composite created by first century editors. Blah..blah…blah…So, let’s just hear those carols, light a few candles, and get back to the Captain Morgan and eggnog. Finally, there are the enlightened postmodernists, who know that there is no inherent meaning in any of this, except for the particular interpretations we bring to it—your meaning, my meaning, all equal.
Pity the poor preacher. What to do? Tell the story straight up and let the “Gloria, in excelsis deos” carry the day? Let the modernists know that you know, and spend half your sermon doing exegesis on the difference between Luke and Matthew’s birth narrative? Cater to the postmodernists by reading the scripture, dropping a few deep questions for everyone to ponder in silence as they create their own meaning? (Newsflash, these folks aren’t sitting there pondering all these things with Mary—they are hoping that somebody makes it go away, fast). Anyway you slice it, the cynical veteran knows that what they’ve come for is to sing Silent Night to candlelight, hear the organ with all the stops pulled out, and if they are lucky, hear a killer take on O Holy Night. It’s tempting for the preacher to just fold before the Herculean challenge and toss off that nugget you preached a few years ago that seemed to get decent reviews. I feel for you. I do.
But damn it all, don’t do it. Don’t give in. Go to the well and come up with something that’s going to snap them out of the Johny Walker-induced haze they walked in with.
Ok, hot shot. What would you do? Well, I’d tell them exactly where I’m at with the story at this point in my life. I’d tell them that human beings possess an endlessly, rich, interior life that is filled with Mystery, ancient archetypes, and burning longing for the future. The problem is that it’s invisible to us and mostly outside our awareness. The only way to actually see it is to see it outside of ourselves first. Let me explain.
Every once in a while someone like a Jesus of Nazareth comes along and wakes us up.
He embodies this dimension of wisdom, consciousness, compassion, and the future that is within us all, but couldn’t access. Something in us recognizes the truth. That’s it! He’s it! those first New Testament editors said to themselves. He is the Good News! And then they created wonderful, glorious stories about his birth, his life, his death, and how even death couldn’t destroy all the creativity and love he represented.
And it’s not that they created these stories arbitrarily. It’s not a question of just “making it up”. Sure, the New Testament writers mined their own scriptures for details of the narrative. No surprise there. They threw in some angels, because who hasn’t been touched by an angel, in our dreams or in some inexplicable coincident that put our life back on track? They brought in stars because they knew that what was going on in this guy was cosmic in scope and represented some kind of harmonious convergence of the heavens. Enter the bad guy, Herod, because god knows there’s always a bad guy, embodying a bad system, intent on taking out his rage on the most vulnerable. This Christmas Eve, this guy will be on everybody’s mind. Who knows where sacred symbols and story lines that compose our myths come from ? It’s a mystery, but my hunch is that it’s from the same storehouse of wisdom that brought forth a universe, latent within each one of us cosmic human beings. Good myths never happened, and yet they are always happening.
Then, once we had these foundational stories in place—like Jesus’ birth story— we spent the next two thousand years allowing this catalytic attractor of a man pull the best theology (the worst would be exposed) and the deepest questions of our soul out into the open. All that latent interiority, the stuff that was invisible, but the most real part of us, comes rushing out as it is projected on to a man like Jesus. Thank God for humans like Jesus who have the courage to be the presence of what’s coming and pull this stuff out of us.
We asked, how can he be fully human and fully divine? We say, this is the Word made flesh. The Son of God. Smart men gathered from the four corners of Empire and asked how can Christ be con-substantial with the Father and the Spirit, one with and yet distinct? We just let it rip, and if you are one of the people still calling this “dogma”, pejoratively, get over it. Really. Do yourself a favor this Christmas and read some early church fathers, or some wicked feminist theologians. Dig in. This so-called dogma is where the soul wants to sit and feast for weeks. Ok, so Facebook and Twitter have shortened our attention spans to 147 characters and a two minute video. That’s our problem. Really, it is our problem.
And here’s how I’d conclude the sermon. I believe that every story the church has ever told about Jesus, and every theological riff on him, from the Council of Nicaea and Chalcedon until this moment, has been a projection of our own interior life. Cultural philosopher, Jean Gebser, was one of the first to see that it’s much easier to recognize new facets of reality (that are dormant in what he called the Ever Present Origin), if they first appear as external and objective facts. “Only later in evolution is their source recognized to be within ourselves” (Allan Coombs, The Radiance of Being). The moment that we are able to see clearly the projection, we can be sure of the advent of a new structure of consciousness.
When I say that we’ve projected it all on to Jesus, I don’t mean that it’s a mere fancy, the product of over-active imaginations. The soul of a Jesus actually awakens this dormant wisdom. At first we create the legends, then we literally believe them. This enables us to make what was subjective and invisible, objective and visible. Then, one day we have an epiphany. Holy shit, this question about how Jesus could be fully human and fully divine? It’s actually about me. About us! One with the Father/Mother essentially, and yet distinct? Yep. We’re talking about the mystery of our own essential unitive nature. Jesus as Saviour? It’s a little new agey, but c’mon, it’s true. We’re the ones we’ve been waiting for. The forgiveness of sins? You guessed it. That power is given to us. And then when you read the gospels with this in mind, you get the sneaking suspicion that Jesus was trying to get this through the disciple’s thick skulls at every opportunity. Given that we still don’t get it 2000 years later, perhaps we can give the disciples a little slack.
So, yeah, if I was the preacher, I’d tell the good folks that the Word was made flesh 2000 years ago, and then again on December 24, 2012, in them. I’d tell them that they are the light that no darkness can overcome, that they are the love they’ve been looking for all their lives. I’d send them out to redeem the world in their little neck of the woods—to be the presence of peace when we are all reeling from recent images of unthinkable violence. I’d tell them that if they leave the place without realizing that the Christ is wanting to be born in them, then they’d have let themselves off the hook too easily. And that we’re at a time in history when we can’t afford to let ourselves off the hook. I’d hope as well that we’d have fallen on our knees before Jesus who poured his life and is still pouring his heart out to wake us up to our glorious destiny.
Merry Christmas, Bruce and clan, and best wishes for 2013!
Same to you, Don.
I share your perspective on this, and celebrate your expertise in crafting such a statement . We had a Solstice night party at our home and read some of your thoughts from ‘If Darwin Prayed’. Peace to you and yours in this Yuletide.
I find it deeply gratifying to know that I can be with such good people remotely at their sacred festivals. May a deep peace, and a sacred restlessness be with you.
Thank you so much for the clarity in which you describe pretty much all of my 75 years as a Christian, and Merry Christmas! I’m placing a copy of this at every plate for Christmas Eve dinner! Maybe I’ll get the rest of the family to go to church with me at midnight!
We’re finally catching up with you, Sylvia. I wonder if your family actually understands your enlightened perspective. Wouldn’t that be a great xmas gift for them, to actually “get” you.
Great, especially the last paragraph – enjoy the “night” off.
Thanks Anne,
Big hug for you and Bruce
Awesomely brilliant, Bruce! Much love to you and Ann.
Thanks Vicky,
Love to both of you,
Miss you…
Wow, if I could cough up a sermon like that, I’d be pretty happy. 27 years you say? Boy, I have such a long way to go. You are the master of spreading the Good News. I loved every bit but my favourite bit was the ‘wicked feminist theologians’. Merry Christmas and enjoy your night off.
Well, Jill, I know you to be one of those who is unafraid to dig in and go deep. Merry Christmas to you as well.
This is the Unity message. It’s what I talk about all the time during my Sunday messages and on Christmas Eve night. We are the Light. Go be the Light. Behold the birth of Christ in you!
I knew there was a reason I liked all you Unity folk!
I agree about the riff on Dogma. The Tradition is not dead, in fact it is pulsing with life and waiting to be discovered. How Christianity ever ended up a status quo practice without much passion is still a mystery to me for the more we explore this the more it reveals new things to every age and every person. May you continue to be full of fire for postings your latest explorations! Merry Christmas to all!
Thanks Rhian…
“The moment that we are able to see clearly the projection, we can be sure of the advent of a new structure of consciousness.”
Thanks for this wise pointer on the path. Ready to load up my Kindle with some work of early church parents and wicked theologians.
With all the bussle of wrapping presents and cooking goose, thanks Bruce for your clarity and making Christmas so searingly relavent.
All the best for an evolving new year and a blessed Christmas
I love “early church parents” – so very inclusive of you my friend!
(Good luck finding an early church mother.)
Have a great Christmas Linda
“We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.”
That’s the line that sticks with and excites me.
This year I’ve had difficulty buying into any of the traditional stuff… but of course still longing to find some relevance in this day. This helped. Thanks Bruce.
I know many others in the same boat and I will share your post with them.
Blessings for a peaceful and relaxing Christmas.
Thanks Sita,
May your longing find a resting place in love, and in this love, may you realize a deep knowing of what a blessing you are to the world.
Another Christmas
and I find myself
looking for a place to stay
in the deep and silent night
I want to be home with those I love
and find my home with Mystery
and ancient truths
and the deepest longing…
each Bethlehem knows the Universe;
each new journey has to be made;
each fuller truth, the next stepping stone;
So, come again Holy Child, Angel and Star
Come Mary, Joseph, come
Come Shepherd, Magi come again!
Hush and Herald,
bring your timeless Nativity…
Thro’ the telling of such stories
have I known my own a little better
and by my own telling
will mine too in time
be gladly
fleshed out
and finished
What a precious Christmas gift to us Gabrielle. I know that you will find a way to be with those you love and with the great Mystery. You seem never too far away to me. BLessings….
Come on, Bruce, tell me you don’t miss the service I experienced last night. While I can’t say it lifted me to heights of ecstasy, it was warm and comforting, and went, in part, like this, which I’m sure you will recognize:
For starters, in addition to the regular service, the usual amateur musicians making their Christmas recital managed to set all ears and teeth on edge (which I personally take as God’s retribution for all the times I have inflicted that same pain), but then amazingly, by God’s good grace, ears were healed by an extremely accomplished and beautiful young pianist. During the requisite pageant, narrated by a beautiful and buxom angel Gabriel, we were treated to a ten-year-old angel glaring at an inattentive ten-year-old shepherd, who in turn kept his hand clapped over the mouth of his five-year-old brother shepherd at the slightest hint of any unscripted response on the latter’s part. Mary (mother of the shepherds) kept her composure, true to character to the end. The three wise men, though a tad early in the season, were there in all their royal splendor beneath their Burger King crowns. The pageant concluded with each of us lighting a candle from the center advent candle, ringing the church walls with candle light and singing Oh Little Town of Bethlehem, which was actually quite lovely. All in all, it was what it was, a little slice of our human foibles and strivings – and all loved by God.
Merry Christmas!
Thanks for the laugh Carol. Sounds familiar.
How exciting Bruce, to be able to speak of the birth of Christ. How super normal, how exquisite and how beautiful.
The mystery needs to remain a mystery yet with one side open for entry. Once in, we’re lost inside the Majesty, reliving the intimate communion between God and man. The son of man and the son of God, where if not in our own spirit is he born? Make room for this advent. Prepare to get out of the way. Mysterious communion never becomes fully understood, never dries up. Spirit usurping spirit, not my will but Your Will.
Making this come alive is the responsibility of the preacher, God bless
Thanks Bjorn. If you readers haven’t read Bjorn’s poetry I heartily recommend it…go to faceboo and search form Bjorn Saw.
For the first time in many years I don’t feel so lonely. Let us hold the newborn one closely. So dependent and fragile…so tender and precious is this in-arms phase. Too soon will come the rest of the story…
Thank you Bruce.
Kindred spirits are so important, aren’t they, Meg?