THIS OUR VALLEY There’s peace behind the curtain

 

"The Lord has taken away the judgments against you, and turned away your enemies” Zephaniah 3

One of the easiest mistakes we make during the Christmas season (which, as I’ve mentioned countless times before is actually “Advent”), is to think it is all about, or mostly about making merry, wishing people season’s greetings, shopping for loved ones, or (if you’re really into that silly gift-card-channel) finding romance in and amongst broken lives found in small towns all across America.

No wonder we miss the “reason for the season.” 

Of course, we can’t forget all the magic involving flying reindeer, jolly elves, dreams of fresh-fallen snow on holiday inns, rascally waifs left home alone, Griswold house decorating, playing hide and seek throughout the Nakatomi Plaza office building (and let’s not forget Scrooge in all his iterations, or George Bailey, either), and so on.

No wonder we continue to miss the “reason for the season.”

The season is so cluttered with signs and symbols, we struggle to make sense of it (if we even bother trying to make sense). Perhaps we need to look behind this curtain of chaos.

Commingled signs and symbols ignore the story in the Gospel of Luke that is lying at the base of the tree: a pregnant couple making their way from home in Nazareth to Papa’s ancestral home in Bethlehem, only to be turned away from the original Holiday Inn and forced to have their baby in the local barnyard, laying him in a food-trough, and being visited by shepherds who do little more than oo and ah at the cuddly little tyke.

Spoiler alert: The Magi and special Star are found in a different book (Gospel of Matthew) and don’t show up until January 6 (Feast of the Epiphany), but they still get thrown into our Christmas cards, carols, and sundry impressions made upon us of what happened over twenty centuries ago in the levant, where Africa, Europe, and Asia meet.

This is not the time and space where one can lay out the Christmas story in full (stories, really), or the practical and theological implications those stories entail. Rather, as I did in my previous column, I invite you to pause in the midst of this seasonal chaos and listen.

Do you hear what I hear? Listen to the voice of God, whispering in the darkness: “I see you huddled in the cold: alone, sick, hungry, naked, afraid. I will come. 

“I see you ranting, raving, raging against intolerable events, situations, and the abusive powers that be. I am coming.

“I see you struggling against the storms of life, looking into the abyss, seeing only darkness, hearing the thundering hoofbeats of the approaching horsemen of the apocalypse, finding only despair and deep dread for what the future may hold for you, your children, and your children’s children. I have come!”

What voice is this? A poor child of a small insignificant family, from a small insignificant town, in a small insignificant corner of a great magnificent empire? 

Who?  A child whose birth scared a tyrant so badly that he massacred numerous infants in an effort to destroy the threat; the child of a refugee family forced to flee their home country for the sake of their survival; a child who would always have far more in common with the lowliest beggar than the loftiest ruler, emperor, or oligarch.

What’s the meaning of this? The trees, lights, noise, smells and bells of the season are little more than a smoke screen that serve us much like the bushes in the Garden served to hide Adam and Eve from their shame when God dropped in for a visit. God did not desire their death, but reconciliation, restoration, and spiritual reunion. 

That’s God's desire for us, too. As the prophet said in this column’s opening line: The Lord has taken away the judgments against (us) ... That’s good news!

Our call is to shift from simply mouthing platitudes of Peace and Good Will, and to actually making peace, being of good will, finding healing, feeding one another, refreshing one another, honoring one another, and behaving honorably – to be the wind that sings to the earth: Do you hear what I hear?

Let us take time this season to incarnate the love and peace of God that lies behind the curtain here in this, our valley (and beyond). Merry Christmas!

Keith Axberg writes on matters concerning life and faith. Author of: Who the Blazes is Jesus? Good News for a Vulgar World (available through Amazon in Print and e-book)