The Episcopal Diocese of Bethlehem

Sermons by Bishop Paul V. Marshall

Christmas 2002
The Real World has Arrived but it is mostly Uninhabited
Sermon by Bishop Paul V. Marshall
Church of the Nativity
Bethlehem, Pennsylvania

Christmas Eve has come again, with its majestic beauty, towering hope, and invitation to new life. To be a Christian is to enter the profound beauty of this night with joy, to be motivated by its hope, and to commit to living its message among people who don’t always get it. The wonderful music, the beautiful liturgy, and the powerful words of scripture are all attempts to celebrate the marvelous gift God gives in Christ, and to let that gift make an impression.

In the simple scene of an innocent child entering the world, we are reminded that in the same way that we embrace and cherish our own infants, God indeed embraces and cherishes each of us. As we see the incarnate Lord receive the worship of those night-shift shepherds, the poorest of the poor, we know that no matter who we are or what we have, the very same Christ welcomes us and receives our offering. The giving and receiving of gifts reminds us that the most deeply fulfilling moments in life have to do with generosity of heart, and we hope that our children will catch on, which they usually do. We remember with admiration that each pregnant woman is a sign of commitment and unlimited self-giving.

In a clergy Bible study last week, as we reviewed the story of Jesus’ conception and birth, a colleague asked two questions. The first was, what would things have been like if Mary had just said, “No,” and more painfully, why doesn’t the prince of peace bring some peace to our world? I find the two questions intimately related.

The quick answer to the first question is to observe that at least as St. Luke tells it, God was probably smart enough to ask the right person and could send Gabriel to the right address.

The more serious answer to what would it have been like if Mary had refused to bear Christ is this, we already know what it would have been like because we make that refusal many times each day.

Many times each day we choose to bear something other than love, or justice, or peace to those around us. Every time we choose to be just a little bit snide, or proud, or vindictive, we refuse to bear Christ to the world. Every time we just go along with what is because it can hurt to buck the system, we refuse to bear Christ. Every time we choose to withhold a kindness, or a contribution, or a good word, because our nose is out of joint, we refuse to bear Christ. Christian noses should have no joints. Each time we close our hearts or wallets out of pique is a betrayal of the Christ child.

And that is the answer to my colleague’s second question. There won’t be peace until we really want it enough to be peaceful. God’s problem, as the Bible presents it, is how do you help a species keep from destroying itself without also destroying its ability to choose between good and evil, its ability to love? All you can do is model and reinforce the behavior you want to engender. So God’s answer is to enter the world as a penniless child born in a barn where there is more than just straw on the floor. God’s answer is to be present in the rabbi Jesus, to bring healing, forgiveness, and joy to people whom others despised. When that approach got people so riled up that they got violent, God’s answer was… to take it, to expose evil for what it is by suffering innocently. From cradle to cross, God’s answer is the consistently loving one. From cradle to cross, Jesus looks like a total loser, yet he is the one whom God resurrected to make it unmistakably clear that peace can come only when people insist that peace is the only answer. Gandhi, Martin Luther King, and Desmond Tutu may have been the only people in the 20th Century to believe this, and they changed the world.

There is, to my mind, a very silly op-ed piece in today's Morning Call, which argues that the “real world” we need unrestrained capitalism and not compassion, and unequivocal support for foreign governments with whom we are allied, regardless of their actions. My response is to fantasize that there probably is a special place in hell for people who take religious types aside and deliver condescending lectures about “the real world,” as though standing at a thousand death beds, knowing first-hand the many forms of human misery, and nurturing hope where the system is not about to provide it were somehow “unreal.” It is those who think that the real world is about the acquisition of wealth and power, and not about their dispersal, who live in darkest unreality. It is those who struggle for status who lie in obscurity. It is those obsessed with control who are not free. It is those who would be embarrassed to suddenly be less affluent who dwell in deepest darkness.

To some extent I am describing each of us, of course, but that is far from the last word. The most amazing thing about our diocesan partnership with Sudanese Christians is that while they are astonished by our wealth and desperately need its power for food and medicine, they are wonderfully able to look right past the facade of our great wealth and speak to our souls. It is redemptive to meet them. It is transforming to be granted equality by someone who has nothing. Think about that, please; dream about how grace filled it is not to be held at respectful arm’s length by those who need us. It’s nice to know that somebody loves us for ourselves, not because we are the richest people in history.

We stand at the door gazing into a barn tonight because through it we glimpse a birth that announces that the Real World has arrived alright, but it is mostly uninhabited. Following Jesus is difficult, provides little instant gratification, and usually doesn’t earn you much respect from the people around you. That’s ok, because following Jesus also means discovering what life is about.

By rehearsing all of this, I’m leading up to a specific answer to my colleague’s question about peace. It is the reminder that God’s peace cannot be imposed, because that peace is for those people who have functioning good will, something that cannot be imposed. It brings us a challenge on Christmas of 2002.

Across eight time zones, in the first Bethlehem, things are actually worse than they were two thousand years ago. There is still no peace, there is still an occupying army, but now people are under 24-hour curfew, and live in fear, all day, all night, victims of a fight between other people on whom they have no influence. The news media give very little attention to how bad things are for Palestinian Christians, how women give birth to dead babies because Palestinians may not use the principal roads and cannot get to the very few hospitals segregated for their use. We are not told in this country how their water has been diverted; we are unaware of how discriminatory tax laws and harassment of clergy make inescapable the extinction of Palestinian Christianity. Few of us get to read how Israeli soldiers are punished when they refuse to participate in the violence and oppression they are ordered to inflict on civilians whose only crime is being Palestinian. Both sides need to abandon the cycle of violence; only Israel has the power to abandon oppression, and we must speak to them as friend, as earnest friends.

Unless international Christianity takes a clear, calm, and persistent stand, in a very few years there will be no native followers of Jesus in the land of his birth. Nobody wishes Israel ill, and I for one consider myself its friend, but no nation’s conduct is above criticism, as we Americans are constantly reminded by absolutely everybody else on the planet. To criticize Israel in this country is to be misunderstood, but we must confront that risk.

Because of the identity we in this “Christmas City” share with ancient Bethlehem, and because of his long familiarity with the cradle of Christianity, I have asked Dean Bill Lane to work with Archdeacon Cluett and our World Mission Committee to educate us about conditions in Palestine and offer us paths of responsible and creative action, and he has graciously and enthusiastically agreed to do this. United Christian witness is changing things for the better in Sudan. Encouraged by movements toward peace there, I believe that we can expand our vision and continue to work for the lasting peace that comes only through non-violent but persistent witness.

In Palestine, and in many other places, including parts of our American life, we have opportunities to practice presence, prophecy, and peace-making in response to human evil, Jesus’ own pattern from crèche to cross.

So once again Christmas thrills us with its beauty and asks us if we will risk joining Jesus in living a life that very much matters to those who can least help themselves?

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