In a cartoon, a weary mother has been Christmas shopping. She rests with her little son on a seat in the middle of a very busy department store. He's asking 'what's it all about?' questions, and she answers: 'No one is quite sure how Christmas got to be like this, but the theologians are working very hard on that question.' I have a lot of questions about Christmas. This year I'm asking why the local shopping
complex said 'no' to our church's regular request to put up a tasteful nativity scene. They said it didn't fit the theme. (And the Myer Store windows in Melbourne have fairy story and robotics themes this Christmas). Secular/capitalist cultures trivialise and commercialise anything sacred. But why do Church-goers have to be 'party-poopers' this time every year? (There was once a Puritan called Hezekiah Wood who tried to ban Christmas throughout the Realm of England by an act of parliament. You'll be happy to know it didn't work: Christmas resumed again in 1660). A British comedian sent all this up with a spoof of God talking to the 'Efruscans' - 'Hey, you Efruscans down there enjoying yourselves, stop it!' Jesus came partying, and the church leaders complained about that too. They're still at it. But if we Christians get miffed about the trivialisation and commercialisation of the sacred, have you stopped to wonder how our Jewish friends are supposed to cope with syrupy Christian songs in department stores, and carols-by-candlelight everywhere? If we claim to be multi-cultural and not racist, let's at least be a little sensitive... [Maybe you have questions about Christmas: why not get into two's or three's for a minute and talk about them? Then we'll share some with the whole congregation...] More questions: When I was a kid I use to wonder why my mother put threepences into the Christmas pudding when other objects that size weren't allowed into our mouths or we'd choke. (I can't bring myself to ask her these days). As a teenager I remember being accosted by a sect-member telling me Christmas was always pagan (Saturnalia and all that), so don't give gifts, don't go to church, treat it like any other day. Then our Bible trivia nights would include questions like: How many wise men? (Answer: not necessarily three; we don't know). Were they wise? (Depends on your religious perspective: they were astrologers). When was Jesus born? (Sometime before 4 B.C. when Herod the Great died). Nowadays I ask why my fellow-clergy find it hard to get excited about preparing new Advent/Christmas sermons every year. They tell me they've run out of ideas. Hey: the greatest event in human history - the Incarnation of the Creator/Redeemer God - and we have no imagination or awe or wonder about that? But these are little questions. (A bigger question concerns the Virgin Birth, but I won't get into that one. I'm conservative on that issue, but have to say it's not one of the bigger issues. You can fight about doctrine all you like, and not necessarily be any more 'Christian'.) So what are the Big Ones? Here they are, in order: God was climaxing a search for a faithful bride. From the beginning of human history God sought to woo humankind, but we proved unfaithful. Again and again emissaries (prophets) were sent to woo us, and encourage a response of commitment and love, but humans blew hot and cold, cavorting with other lovers/gods. Finally the Son came, and we rejected him too and crucified him. Christ is still coming to us, sometimes in disguise, perhaps as the stranger in your street - more of that later... But God was up to something awe-full too. In his 'MEMO' page in the Christmas 1994 Christian Century Lutheran Professor Martin Marty wrote: Emotional memories involving fear are permanently ingrained on the brain; they can be suppressed but never erased. If fear gets ingrained in the neural circuits and the amygdala, the 'black box' of the brain, can awe also be ingrained? Researchers have come to realize that emotional brain circuits are just as tangible as circuits for seeing, hearing and touching. Feelings are not, as poets and philosophers say, ephemeral reflections of the human soul. Rather, emotions are largely the brain's interpretation of our visceral reaction to the world at large.' Marty went on to complain that the Nativity story 'has become weightless, forgettable and as banal as the carols on the mall loudspeakers, no longer evoking the kind of fear called awe. Luke describes Zechariah and Mary and the shepherds and others being afraid, filled with awe. Mark ends with the women at Jesus' tomb being speechless, "for they were afraid".' When God's at work and we view it as ordinary, we'd better get scared. I'm writing devotional notes (for UK Scripture Union's Alive to God series) on Jeremiah at the moment. Remember stupid, vacillating King Zedekiah? The Word of the Lord was being read to him, and he chopped up the scroll with a penknife, and threw it into the fire! (I had the same feeling last night about those who didn't stand for the Hallelujah Chorus at the Melbourne Concert Hall). For Rudolf Otto (The Idea of the Holy) the sacred is 'mysterium tremendum et fascinans', the awe-inspiring mystery which fascinates us. We hide from the fearsome majesty of God - but are attracted to God's loveliness. Professor Jerome Miller (The Way of Suffering) depicts true worship as prostration 'before the sacred', the 'Ultimate Other from which I am unconsciously always in flight...' In Papua New Guinea, the Christian village elder asked me to take off my shoes before climbing a holy mountain. At a little stile he prayed, in awe... In the incarnation God was reconciling the world to himself (2 Corinthians 5:19; see also Galatians 4:4, Philippians 2:8, John 1:14) - or 'hugging the world to himself' as the Cottonpatch version has it). God stooped (seven steps are there in Philippians 2) to take on our humanity. God inhabited a human body, ate and drank and toiled and sweated among us. God was telling us 'matter matters'. More than that. The Christ-hymn (Philippians 2:6-11), probably one of the earliest Christian songs, tells us what God is like, and how we can be like God. God is a servant, and comes to us to serve us. To be great, you don't lord it over others, but serve them. Jesus had to tell his disciples that true greatness was not striving to 'get to the top' and have power over others. Whoever wants to be great among you must be your servant. Whoever wants to be number one must be the slave of all. Jesus said he did not come to be served, but to serve, and give his life for others (Matthew 20:25-28). Later, these fellows proved they were slow learners at this point. When they gathered to celebrate the Passover, none of them wanted to do the slave's chore and wash the dirty feet of his friends. So Jesus gave them - and us - an object-lesson in greatness. He removed his cloak, took a towel, filled a basin with water, and started to move slowly around the group, washing their feet, and wiping them with the towel. In that dramatic silence, only the embarrassed breathing and the trickle of water could be heard. Here is God incarnate, stripping himself to wash the feet of his proud friends! Ultimately, as Philippians 2 says, the cross itself was the supreme symbol of his servanthood. He served by giving his life for his friends (including us!) When I survey the wondrous cross,
On which the Prince of glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride... That's what God was up to in the Incarnation. Same as ever: we live in a world both lovely and evil. The world into which Jesus was born was a mixture of economic and cultural growth - and savagery. Herod saw the temple complex completed in Jerusalem, but as the fear of a Jewish revolt increased, Herod became more cruel. He murdered his wife and the two sons from that marriage, in addition to other family members. The emperor Augustus said 'It is better to be Herod's pig (hys) than to be his son (huos).' Reminds me of Saddam Hussein. He ordered some Pharisees to be burned alive because they'd tried to remove the golden eagle which had been set up in the Temple. When the 'wise men' came asking 'Where is he that is born King of the Jews?' it was the kind of question, to put it mildly, he didn't like. So according to Matthew, he tried to eliminate Jesus by having all the male babies in the Bethlehem region put to death. It was into this world of terror, that God came... We too, live in a world of beauty and terror. More people have been murdered for being Christians in this century than all previous centuries combined. Christians are being persecuted, imprisoned, tortured and/or killed in several countries of the world today. (Can you name them?) These martyrs are precious to God; let us not forget them. So God comes into our world again in each generation asks questions too. 'Where are you?' (Genesis 3:9). God is especially incarnated in the Church, God's 'being-redeemed' people. And we are to do in our world what Jesus did in his... Finally... Christmas is not only about something Scriptural, or historical, but also _experimental_. God's coming into our world and into our lives is supposed to make a difference. In our text, Paul is talking about God's self-emptying, or 'kenosis' in Christ, but the point here is not simply theological, but rather behavioural. There must have been some disharmony in the church: like many churches they had some difficult people. In fact, in the earlier verses he hints at three causes of disunity - (a) Selfish ambition. Paul talks about 'humility' - a concept not highly valued by the Greeks. Jesus Christ has made humility one of the noblest human values. The cure for dissension is selflessness - counting others better than yourselves, forgetting your own interests in favour of others'.
(b) Personal prestige. The Christian's aim is not self-display, but self-denial. We do good deeds, not to glorify ourselves, but to glorify God.
(c) Lack of concern for others. When over-concern for our own interests collides with the priorities of others, they become opponents, enemies, a threat to us... So Paul is calling upon these people to exercise three virtues - unity, humility, and helpfulness. The antidote is in the Christ-hymn. His coming to us and living among us were marked by humility, obedience, self-renunciation. He who was divine, not a mere copy or reflection of the Divine, but 'of the essence of the original', emptied himself of those prerogatives and privileges and powers. He was not play-acting like the Greek gods, who sometimes became human, but invariably kept their divine privileges. In the Incarnation, the holy God was tempted in every respect as we are, the omnipotent God sometimes got tired; the omniscient God was limited in knowledge; the special locale inhabited for a time by the omnipresent God was a small frontier province of the Roman Empire. So God has exalted Christ in heaven, as we have done in our praises this morning; and as we should do in our lives every day. We give Christ a loyalty due to no other person in the universe. Our response to all this: 'Love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all'; we are 'lost in wonder, love and praise'. We worship, not out of fear, but as a response to love. And what do we do with all this? 'Love came down at Christmas', so now is a good time of the year to share this love with others. A week ago a woman whom I've known a long time ago was doing a retreat at our place. When she was young, and adopted out her first baby, she'd seriously attempted suicide, and I was called urgently to the hospital. I was there when she 'came to' and she murmured, 'Rowland, all I want is to be loved.' With her consent I put her story - it's very sad - on my home page a few days ago, and you can read it there. Hopefully our response also includes sharing God's love with a lost world. Betty Elliott's Through Gates of Splendour is one of this century's missionary classics. She tells of the labours and martyrdom of five American missionaries in Ecuador, by 'fierce' Auca Indians. Her husband was one of the five. Mrs Elliott tells how they had meetings at Puyapangu, their mission-station, 'telling the Indians in their own language the most wonderful story in the world, that the Son of God had come to earth and paid the price for our sins by his own blood.' She said 'the recognition of God's love dawned slowly upon the Indians'... But you don't have to go to Latin America to be an evangelist. Lots of people in your town or suburb will spend this Christmas alone. Why not invite them to your place on that day? Christmas Day for our family has traditionally been an 'open house' from lunch-time on, and everyone who comes joins in a game of Croucher's rules cricket. (This year three or four single adults will join us - including an ex-nun who would otherwise have been alone.) A story I've told before: a hungry child in a city slum prayed earnestly one Christmas for some food and toys, but nothing happened. She related this to a cynical friend, who asked with a sneer: 'What happened to this God of yours? Why didn't he hear and answer you?' To which the child answered simply, 'Oh, I'm sure he did hear me, and told someone to bring me a Christmas gift, but I guess they just forgot.' Well...?
Rowland Croucher
Text: Philippians 2:1-11
1. WHAT WAS GOD UP TO?
2. WHAT'S THE WORLD UP TO?
3. WHAT AM I UP TO?
top of page