Christmas I + Spin with joy! + 12.27.15
M. Campbell-Langdell
All Santos, Oxnard
(Isaiah
61:10–62:3; Ps. 147; Galatians 3:23–25; 4:4–7; St. John 1:1–18)
“Comfort,
comfort ye my people” we sang a little while back, words that also come out of
the mouth of the prophet Isaiah.
And
God responded to that call. God came to us, to live with us. The Greek says
“God pitched his tent with us.” In the land of a desert-dwelling people, this
meant that God firmly placed his lodging in Jesus alongside all the other frail
but faithful homes in the wild landscape of an unforgiving world. God pitched
his tent among us.
And
God came as an infant. What a wonderful strange thing that is. We cry for
comfort and God responds. But interestingly as a small creature himself in need
of comfort and care. He came to give us comfort and joy. But what comfort did
we give him? There was not much in his life that spoke of our care—a wonderful
mother, yes. A woman who washed his feet with her hair, some perfume and tears.
There may have been other tender moments too. But life on earth did not treat
Jesus of Nazareth well. Yet, he lived among us, and the Son of God loved us.
And loves us still.
John
wanted to talk about this mystery—that of a God would came to live among us—in
this first chapter of his gospel. And to do so he uses his imagination.
Speaking of another book, the book of Isaiah, Biblical historian Walter
Brueggemann says that it “is an act of Jerusalem imagination.”[1] What I think he means by that is that these
scriptures were received from God and imagined by a people in exile that
believed and trusted in a salvation that was to come from their God. They
dreamed their way into the future they trusted was in store. In the same way,
this chapter in the book of St. John is an act of Christian imagination. I was
written with an understanding that someone came to the world in Jesus of
Nazareth who was totally different from anyone who had lived before or has
lived since, but who also lived just like us. What’s more, in having witnessed
his death, life and resurrection, the people of his time came to believe that
he was the son of God.
The
son of God. The son of the God of all creation. Of the God who, as we hear in
the psalms, “covers the heavens with clouds and prepares rain for the earth;
[who] makes grass to grow upon the mountains
and green plants to serve mankind (Ps. 147:8-9).” And so much more. How do we wrap our heads around the fact that a God who made everything, who even counts the number of the stars, could be contained in the small, fragile body of a baby, of a human being? How on earth to understand it? In a way, we cannot. In a way, we just have to feel it; to live it. The incarnation is something you have to live in your body. The paradox of this most heady concept is that we can only being to understand it when we feel it, at a cellular level.
and green plants to serve mankind (Ps. 147:8-9).” And so much more. How do we wrap our heads around the fact that a God who made everything, who even counts the number of the stars, could be contained in the small, fragile body of a baby, of a human being? How on earth to understand it? In a way, we cannot. In a way, we just have to feel it; to live it. The incarnation is something you have to live in your body. The paradox of this most heady concept is that we can only being to understand it when we feel it, at a cellular level.
This
Advent, I tried something different. Pastor Nancy, of the Lutheran Church of
Our Redeemer, invited a group of us to participate in a challenge on Facebook.
Could we walk one mile a day from Thanksgiving to Christmas? It was just one
mile, but the challenge was to fit it in each day, especially in this busy
season. Without fail. And I did it. And something interesting happened. I
didn’t lose weight—which was sort of a hope—probably the holiday fare had
something to do with that. But it did push me to get out in my neighborhood
more frequently. To simply step out of the door a bit more. And I noticed
things. I said “hello” to my neighbors. I saw my neighbor across the street
once on her daily walk. I walked without headphones in order to look around me
and take it in. I saw the sky, the water in the marina not far from our house,
many Christmas lights and decorations. Several times I convinced Alene to join
me, and that was nice, to walk and talk together. But when I went alone it made
me see my neighborhood in a new way. And I loved that. I felt more connected
with my neighbors. It made me go out and move in the world. It made me feel in
my body how the world was outside of my door. I am used to walking frequently,
but this exercise made me walk more. It was a practice of connecting with the
world by moving my body.
One
translation of this first verse of the Isaiah passage today is: “Rejoicing, I
will rejoice in the Lord. My soul spins with joy in my God.”[2] My whole being, my soul, spins with joy in the
Lord. In coming to this poor world, Jesus introduced a new heavenly vibration
of peace at the base of the entirety of creation.
The
Sufis, mystic Muslims, have a practice of spinning rapidly in circles in order
to feel the divine mystery in their bodies; in order to be in a meditative
state. Isaiah shows that when we feel God in our bodies, sometimes our souls
spin just so. They spin in the joy of our God.
Whether
it is found in going outside, or staying quiet here in the tranquility of the
church, I invite you to welcome God to be present in your bodies, at a cellular
level. I invite you to quiet yourselves so that you can try to understand at a
very deep level that, in coming to live amongst us, Jesus has renewed
everything. Jesus has greened the whole earth, has turned all the bleak and
grey into new life. If we are very quiet, we may just feel this greening
vibration of the Spirit in ourselves. The vibration of the salvation that Jesus
brought to the whole world. Maybe you can tap into it right now, but maybe it
will come later, as you walk in nature or take in the stars at night. Jesus has
made the whole creation new. We are no longer slaves to sin; we are free. Now,
what on earth will we do with our freedom?
.jpg)
Comments
Post a Comment