Christmas - Homily 10

Homily 10 - 2016

It’s hard to hear, to look freshly, at a story that we have heard and even sung about ad nauseam since we were children - especially one that carries countless memories and triggers a variety of competing feelings. But let us give it one more go this evening. Let’s begin by trying to cut loose from childhood. Luke did not compose his story for children. This is a story for adults, and needs an adult sensibility to get hold of the messages he was trying to convey. It is the start of his gospel. He was setting up the scene and rehearsing the themes that will become more obvious as the narrative unfolds.

Tonight’s passage began with Jesus’ parents in clear tension with the recognized power bearers of the time. They were citizens of a conquered, occupied country; and at great personal inconvenience, were being helplessly pushed around by the bureaucracy. The purpose of their having to temporarily relocate was so that the bureaucracy could work out how much tax they could extract from the population. The aim was to milk everyone to the limit, not to distribute the country’s wealth equitably among the different sectors of the society, but to satisfy the demands of the brutal occupiers.

The adult Jesus would have much to say later that would be relevant to how society should function, how people should best relate to each other, about the vision and values that might contribute to their experiencing life to the full. His message would not be appreciated by the power elites.

As Jesus’ story evolved, the dominant questions underlying all that he said, all that he did, would be, “Who on earth is he?” and “What is his relationship to God?” even “What is his sense of this God he talks about? How does he see God?”

Right from the beginning of his Gospel, Luke wanted clearly to address that problem so that his readers might be alerted to hear clearly the message he hoped to convey, and not be unnecessarily distracted wondering. God-questions are beyond human comprehension. So, to make that quite clear, Luke has the necessary information about Jesus conveyed by what he called firstly “The angel of the Lord”, and afterwards “a great throng of the heavenly host”. Not only what they said was important, but whom they said it to. Indeed, whom they said it to was highly relevant to what they had to say.

The single angel identified Jesus as “Saviour”, as “Christ”, and as “Lord”. “Saviour” indicated his crucial relevance to them, indeed to everyone – the ‘why’ of his presence among them. “Christ” identified him as the mysterious figure spoken of, though unclearly, by many of the Hebrew prophets. “Lord” related him somehow with God, but left the issue still open-ended.

The message was given to “shepherds”, a social group that was universally despised and ostracized by anyone with any self-respect. What is going on? Why not to the Jewish priests? Why not to the Jewish king? Has that any relevance to the meaning of salvation? Does it invite a re-reading of Jewish religious history and of the interventions of the prophets? What does it say about God? What is Luke on to, by bringing “shepherds” into his story?

Rather than answering, Luke intensified the message. He had “the angel of the Lord” declare that this saviour, Christ, Lord, would be identified precisely by being no different from any other young baby born around that time in Bethlehem – simply “wrapped in rags and laid in an animals’ feed trough” [if you will pardon the alternative translation]. At which stage, Luke then had the “great throng of the heavenly host” brought on stage to confirm the mystery. This birth revealed nothing less than the “glory of God”, and brought the promise of genuine “peace” to a world loved by God.

Might Luke’s story challenge us to ask, and to answer, how can we help ourselves recognise God present in the ordinary events of our ordinary lives, and of our messy world. What do we look for?