Come to Bethlehem and see
Him whose birth the angels sing,
Come, adore on bended knee,
Christ the Lord, the newborn King.

19th C. French Carol, “Angels We Have Heard on High”

About two millennia ago – as one story goes – shepherds with their sheep were beckoned to a cow stable in a little town in what is now the West Bank of the besieged State of Palestine; located in the Judean hills about five miles south of Jerusalem. There, they would find a baby Jesus. He would be hailed as “Lord of Lords,” “King of Kings,” “Prince of Peace,” whose reign would last forever, and ever. (Isaiah 9)

Nearly two millennia later now, it might be much safer to make your pilgrimage to St. Peter’s Chapel in Lucerne, Switzerland; where an avatar in the form of an Ai Jesus has been installed to engage any sojourner or pilgrim in a one-on-one encounter with what has been dubbed a Deus in Machina.

Having been programmed with a compendium of inherited and canonized biblical texts – just like you’d expect of any reputable theologian, biblical scholar, priest, or preacher – this particular imitator (or impostor) of the Jesus character has the ability to peddle a multitude of teachings; along with their various interpretations. As a holiday bonus, “he” can even hear confessions, giving counsel and absolving the penitent of their sins. What more could one possibly want, or hope, to receive this Christmas?

But, in this perennial season of gift-giving, a better question might be is there anything new or different to be received, or given in the exchange?

To Whom Shall We Bear What Gifts?

In our household, the annual task of unpacking the holiday decorations includes a wooden creche; replete with the entire cast of biblical characters (pictured above). These not only include the holy family, a cow, a jackass, and a hovering angel; but also well-to-do gift-bearing astrologers lured to this nativity scene (in Matthew’s version), and empty-handed low-class shepherds, beckoned hither with their sheep (Luke’s version). With imagined cow dung for incense, and the refrain of an angelic chorus filling the air, what are we to still make of the long-awaited “Christ the Lord, the newborn King?”

About eight centuries before these particular nativity tales were written, the Jewish poet and soothsayer, Isaiah, prophesied about the advent of a prince of peace and his eternal reign. (Isaiah 9). Political and armed strife had consumed the Middle East, which continued in one form or another up until the lifetime of the historical Jesus, and now far beyond his time. So, I asked the post-modern Ai Jesus – now neatly tucked away in the Swiss Alps — why such everlasting peace has never come to the “Holy Land;” or elsewhere, for that matter? Within seconds, the avatar responded with the observation that sounded as evasive and inconclusive as it is readily apparent. It read:

“The lack of everlasting peace in the Holy Land is a deeply complex issue, rooted in a combination of historical, religious, cultural, political, and social factors.”

It then went on to cite historical conflicts, territorial disputes, competing claims of the three major religious traditions in the area, subsequent colonial legacies and global involvement, social and economic factors, and concluding with something that lies at the heart of the question; namely, human nature and brokenness. “From a spiritual perspective,” it observed,” some believe the lack of peace reflects the broader brokenness of humanity. Greed, pride, and a failure to fully embrace principles like forgiveness and love hinder reconciliation.”

As reluctant as I am to admit it, I couldn’t have said it better myself. But, then again, it’s what I’ve been pondering and preaching for as long as I can try to re-member (i.e. re-assemble) what lies at the heart of that message once-gifted to us by that Galilean peasant sage, born nearly two millennia ago.

Hopes & Dreams: A Royal Remembrance “Gift” of Hope
A Personal Story

O holy town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep the silent stars go by;
Yet in thy dark streets shineth the everlasting Light;The hopes and fears of all the years
are me in thee tonight.
Words: Phillips Brooks (1868)
Music: Forest Green, and English melody

Nearly a half-century ago, after I concluded my graduate studies in religion, I was ordained in one particular expression of the Christian faith tradition, and then began preaching a “good news” message. In my first year in that endeavor, I was given a gift by a grateful parishioner. It is a wooden wall carving from England, circa 1750 CE, depicting the holy nativity. All the usual characters are included, including the baby Jesus.

But above the infant Jesus, and between Mary and Joseph, there’s also a young prince Jesus; as well as a “king” Jesus figure holding an orb. In other words, he’s got the whole world in his hands.

This particular gift is not something I stash away again when the holiday season comes to an end. Instead, it has hung for decades on a wall in my house; as a daily reminder that there can always be a re-birth of all the hopes and fears of all the years; with an ancient nativity gift that keeps on giving.

One need not trek to Bethlehem, nor scale the Swiss Alps, to find it. If only my house, and your house, might someday resemble the “house” of the one to whom we might bear allegiance as the lord of our life.

As, in the words of the poet/prophet, Isaiah:

In days to come
the mountain of the Lord’s house
shall be established as the highest of the mountains,
and shall be raised above the hills;
all the nations shall stream to it.
Many peoples shall come and say,
‘Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord,
to the house of the God of Jacob;
that he may teach us his ways
and that we may walk in his paths.’
For out of Zion shall go forth instruction,
and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.
He shall judge between the nations,
and shall arbitrate for many peoples;
they shall beat their swords into ploughshares,
and their spears into pruning-hooks;
nation shall not lift up sword against nation,
neither shall they learn war anymore. (Isaiah 2)

© 2024 by John William Bennison, Rel.D. All rights reserved.
This article should only be used or reproduced with proper credit.
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