Growing up, I have fond memories of many traditions that were a part of Christmas time in my family.
We always lived too far from extended family to visit at Christmas time and so the family traditions that I remember are unique to my immediate family. One of the traditions that I remember as being special were the sending and receiving of Christmas cards and the best part would be reading the Christmas letters that accompanied the card. In the days before Facebook, Instagram, and twitter, it was a way to ‘catch up’ with family and friends who had touched our hearts at various times in our lives.
It might be a preacher’s thing to do (and many of the cards we received in the mail were from clergy who touched us in significant ways), but after we got through the great accomplishment of the family members, clergy would often theologize or reflect on one’s Christian response to a world crisis, moral decay, or flagrant acts of injustice. Even as a young child reading these brief commentaries opened my eyes to one family’s understanding of Christian discipleship. In a season of gift giving, these reflections were like birthing a promise -- a promise to live more faithfully into a bigger vision than the world knew at that time and a conviction that would define how they would act in the coming year and it was an invitation to those who read the promise to join them in their quest for peace, justice, and compassion.
I received my mother’s Christmas letter earlier this week. In it, she births a promise for the coming year. Her letter was written just as I remember the many Christmas letters I read as a child. My 79-year mother writes:
The letters I remember were about ‘birthing a promise’ at a time of year when we find ourselves more reflective about the way things are and how to respond in faith. My mother’s letter is a ‘birthing promise’ that challenges her readers to ‘follow the Bethlehem star’ and find a way to nurture decency, empathy, and respect for our differences for the stewardship of our earthly home. Mary’s song – the Magnificat is about ‘birthing a promise’ that God will not be passive partner in the history of the world. The Christmas story is about ‘birthing a promise’ of the Son of God who ‘takes away the sins of the world’, restores life in a world seeped in images of death, and journeys with us along the winding paths and rests with us when we just need to hear the angels sing. On this eve of Christmas, what promise are you birthing in the year to come? May this day, your tomorrow, and faithful, serious Christians find a way to live into the promise of Christmas morning.
It might be a preacher’s thing to do (and many of the cards we received in the mail were from clergy who touched us in significant ways), but after we got through the great accomplishment of the family members, clergy would often theologize or reflect on one’s Christian response to a world crisis, moral decay, or flagrant acts of injustice. Even as a young child reading these brief commentaries opened my eyes to one family’s understanding of Christian discipleship. In a season of gift giving, these reflections were like birthing a promise -- a promise to live more faithfully into a bigger vision than the world knew at that time and a conviction that would define how they would act in the coming year and it was an invitation to those who read the promise to join them in their quest for peace, justice, and compassion.
I received my mother’s Christmas letter earlier this week. In it, she births a promise for the coming year. Her letter was written just as I remember the many Christmas letters I read as a child. My 79-year mother writes:
“This has been a challenging year in many ways; possibly for you too. Our nation is in need of a star to follow.” Advent is a time of longing and I surely am longing for even a modicum of harmony. Perhaps your view would not be mine, but nonetheless, it seems possible that my thoughts might cover some of your concerns also: Decent living, consideration for the well-being of people all over the world, empathy for those in crisis, care of our planet, and basic respect for those who differ from us. On our Advent journey we can prepare ourselves to do our part to stay on the right path.”
She goes on to write, “In order to ‘follow the star’ it takes risk. The three men from the East followed as star to find a king. Mary and Joseph followed a star to find sanctuary from an evil king. In both cases ‘hope’ and/or ‘faith’ dwelt in their hearts and ‘courage’ carried them forward, never really knowing just where they might be led. May the same also be with each of us as we strive to live worthy lives. The ‘star’ brings all of us Emmanuel – God with us. This wee baby grew to be our Savior – one that modeled what was needed to live worthy lives, and that living took, and will also take for us – courage, faith, and hope.”
At this time of year, I'm thinking of the Christmas story, particularly Mary's Song or what we call the Magnifcat in the Christian tradition. The Magnificat feels like a Christmas letter to me that reflects on the injustice of the world and how one Christian recast her own Christian conviction in a prophetic act of justice. The usage of the Magnificat in Luke has a ‘double meaning’ for us. First it is Mary’s response to God’s magnificent grace and God’s acceptance of her, as a suitable maiden to carry Emmanuel – God with us. It is also the birthing of God’s promised vision for the world as made real in the birth, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
Mary’s song – presumably inspired by this intimate moment with God – is a radical promise of what we as Christians, as the world, or as Americans ought to be about when choosing the path of Christian discipleship. It is an invitation to us to live into God’s promise, just as Mary does when she accepts the angel’s news of her pregnancy. She writes, ‘magnify God and rejoice in God our Savior.’
Here we are on the threshold of something new, something radical, and something of challenge for all of us. God continues to birth a promise in the Christmas story. Just as generations before experienced something new, something radical, and something challenging, Mary speaks to the same promise of a God who is fully engaged in the history of God's people. Mary's spirit is filled and she, like many before her, proclaim the promise of the ages.
At this time of year, I'm thinking of the Christmas story, particularly Mary's Song or what we call the Magnifcat in the Christian tradition. The Magnificat feels like a Christmas letter to me that reflects on the injustice of the world and how one Christian recast her own Christian conviction in a prophetic act of justice. The usage of the Magnificat in Luke has a ‘double meaning’ for us. First it is Mary’s response to God’s magnificent grace and God’s acceptance of her, as a suitable maiden to carry Emmanuel – God with us. It is also the birthing of God’s promised vision for the world as made real in the birth, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
Mary’s song – presumably inspired by this intimate moment with God – is a radical promise of what we as Christians, as the world, or as Americans ought to be about when choosing the path of Christian discipleship. It is an invitation to us to live into God’s promise, just as Mary does when she accepts the angel’s news of her pregnancy. She writes, ‘magnify God and rejoice in God our Savior.’
Here we are on the threshold of something new, something radical, and something of challenge for all of us. God continues to birth a promise in the Christmas story. Just as generations before experienced something new, something radical, and something challenging, Mary speaks to the same promise of a God who is fully engaged in the history of God's people. Mary's spirit is filled and she, like many before her, proclaim the promise of the ages.
‘God’s mercy is for those who fear him’; God scatters the proud and brings down the powerful from their thrones. This one promises to lift up the lowly, fill the hungry and send the rich, empty, away.’ Mary sings of the ongoing promise of the same One who created the earth, sent the rainbow to Noah, chiseled the Ten Commandments with Moses, found favor in Mary, and like Sarah in old age, Elizabeth bears a son. As she concludes her song of glory, she says, ‘He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever.” The Christmas story – the song of Mary is about birthing a promise that must not be forgotten in the midst of ribbons and bows, family meals of abundant food, Santa Claus, Frosty the Snowman, and Rudolph.
The letters I remember were about ‘birthing a promise’ at a time of year when we find ourselves more reflective about the way things are and how to respond in faith. My mother’s letter is a ‘birthing promise’ that challenges her readers to ‘follow the Bethlehem star’ and find a way to nurture decency, empathy, and respect for our differences for the stewardship of our earthly home. Mary’s song – the Magnificat is about ‘birthing a promise’ that God will not be passive partner in the history of the world. The Christmas story is about ‘birthing a promise’ of the Son of God who ‘takes away the sins of the world’, restores life in a world seeped in images of death, and journeys with us along the winding paths and rests with us when we just need to hear the angels sing. On this eve of Christmas, what promise are you birthing in the year to come? May this day, your tomorrow, and faithful, serious Christians find a way to live into the promise of Christmas morning.
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