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A Brief Recap

In my most previous two commentaries, I’ve explored the elusive notion of hope; first in a world of seeming hopelessness (here).  In summary, the compendium of shared scripture in the Judeo-Christian tradition clearly seems to reflect the inherent contradiction that comprises our human condition. Violence and intolerance permeate holy writ; along with what I enumerated as those “meddlesome” passages attributed to a Galilean peasant sage who preached  a contrary message of non-violence.

So, we say one thing, and do another. And are ultimately left to choose which passages reflect our unrelenting hope against hope for something else, something more, than what we’ve been able to muster and achieve. So, why hope?

Well, as we approached the perennial observance of Jesus’ nativity, I asked, once again in a second commentary (here), whence cometh that “Prince of peace” who the ancient prophet foretold (Is.9:7); and the Christian faith tradition has subsequently proclaimed?

Now, as we come to the end of this holiday season (which our secular culture has already deemed to be long over) when some of us might still observe the twelfth day of Christmas, I’m still hearing the marching beat of “twelve drummers drumming;” and ask if there might still be a different, more hopeful tune to sing?

A January 6th Epiphany

As I’m writing this commentary, the news is filled with chatter about another anniversary observance of January sixth. It’s not about the liturgical religious observance known as the Epiphany, of course; but the third-year anniversary of those days surrounding the political insurrection in our nation’s Capital.

But, I ask, what might that other long-forgotten religious observance of a quaint old biblical tale have to offer every January 6th; and shed a little light (‘epi-phanos’  meaning ‘light all around’) on these dark times?

There is that quaint, familiar story of three alien astrologers – deemed to be wise — following an unknown star; seeking the promise of something new and different than the sorry old human tale. They first arrive at Herod’s palace of power to ask for directions, but to no avail. Instead, they end instead end up in a cow barn in Bethlehem; but  not before the machinations of the human power struggle for dominance (Herod) frame the too-familiar plotline (Matthew 2-1-12). Only in their dreams are they cautioned to try a different route home. Yet even Gaspar, Melchior and Balthasar can only think to offer the token gifts of princely power with their gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

O Come, All Ye Faithful

On Christmas Eve this last year, an evening news broadcast ended another dreary hour of reports on a happier note. It was a U.S. Military band performing a rock version of a traditional hymn from the 18^th century, with a uniformed female vocalist belting out the lyrics about a different kind of “king”:

O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant,
Come ye, O come ye to Bethlehem.
Come and behold him, born the King of angels,
O come let us adore him, Christ the Lord.
                      John Francis Wade (1711-1786)

 

Peculiarly enough, the same news broadcast had included an earlier report of a different sort of Christmas observance this year in the Church of the Holy Nativity; located in Gaza, in the Israeli West Bank town of Bethlehem.

Instead of the normal traditional holiday decorations, that church had placed an image of the baby Jesus amidst a pile of concrete rubble; representing the results of the devastating bombardment that had indiscriminately rained down upon that part of the “holy” land.

The jarring juxtaposition of those two reports lent a different and disturbing meaning to those lines sung by the U.S. soldier, “O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant, Come ye, O come ye to Bethlehem.”

If there is to be any truly triumphant epiphany message nowadays, perhaps it lies in that manger of the servant-king of kings; whose contrary message might still shed a wholly different light all around.  jb

Postscript

Below is a new poem, written by an old friend and colleague, included with his permission; and for your reflection and consideration.

 

CHRISTMAS DAY

On Christmas Day, we wear pajamas,
The soft flannel of being children again,
Sip hot chocolate, eat tangerines,
Lie on pillows as if upon clouds.
There’s a different light today,
The reds, the greens and yellows,
A bright star against the ceiling,
Few shadows, nor a troubled darkening.
In the quietness, we can hear the sky,
And our talk too is singing.
This ease and this gratefulness incites us,
Suggests we unwrap the gift of our being,
Of all that binds these hearts of ours,
Makes us deaf yet these thousand years
As the hundred millionth Palestinian baby cries,
God who is Love is coming
To be
You.

+ John S. Thornton

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© 2024 by John William Bennison, Rel.D.  All rights reserved.
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