Birthing the Sacred

05 December 2004

First UU Church of Austin

4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756

www.austinuu.org

Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button.

PRAYER

As Christmas time approaches, we pray that all flights, drives and trips will be safe and sound. May angels of mercy abound in the midst of any and all mishaps.

As the cold weather sets in, we pray for the homeless. We pray there is enough cheer to go around – enough money and food donated so that all the children of man and God have at least one moment of delight to awaken or confirm the spirit of hope in their lives.

We pray that reunions of families and friends are gentle and filled with sympathetic understanding and coherent conversation. We pray that this be a season of connection for all souls.

And we pray for all the ones who are alone, isolated or neglected, and for those who are away from home and missing it. We pray for everyone who is aching with loss, overburdened with work, and struggling with failure. We pray for everyone who is sick and dying. We pray for everyone who is just now being born.

May we each of us be given the power and courage to befriend strangers amid the busy-ness, and sometimes the loneliness, of the season. It is Christmas let us learn how to let its magic bless us.

Amen

SERMON: Birthing the Sacred

Today is the second Sunday of Advent. In the traditional liturgical year, Advent is the four Sundays previous to December 25th. High church custom lights a candle each week, making a full circle around a wreath – three white candles and a colored one for last. Of course Christianity is not the only religious tradition which lights candles this time of year.

We celebrated Devali last month, the Hindu festival of lights, where rows of candles are lit at the entranceways to homes. This week the Jewish festival of lights, Hanukkah will begin on the 8th. It is an eight-day candle lighting ritual. The ninth candle in the center of the holder, or Menorah, is used to light the other candles, lighting them from left to right, one new candle each day.

You may also see Kwanzaa candles later in the month. That is a seven day candle lighting ritual to honor and celebrate indigenous African values such as unity and self determination and cooperative economics. It begins with the lighting of the black candle in the center of the kinara candleholder and then the red and green candles in turn, again one new candle each day until they are all alight.

For the sake of the sacred rituals of humanity, the beauty and the discipline and the mystery of them, I have lit all these candles on our alter today. They are lit symbolically to join us with others in the observance of December 25th – the coming of the winter solstice, the return of the sun to our daily lives, to celebrate that the world keeps on turning, that we are together.

There is a birth story at the center of Christmas, the holiday that marks the birth of Christ. But I thought we’d start off this morning with a birth story you probably don’t know already- the birth story of the Hindu God, Krishna. Now Krishna is one of the most popular and well-loved of the gods and goddesses in the Hindu pantheon. Krishna was born as a human although he was understood to be an incarnation of the more primordial god, Vishnu. As all humans, Krishna had a regular birth and death, though his life was full of extraordinary deeds designed to rid the world of demons and guide humanity to fullness.

Krishna was born to an imprisoned couple. His mother was Devaki and his father Vasudeva. These two had been imprisoned by an evil king named Kamsa. Kamsa was a bad guy. He was shrewd and cruel. He usurped his fathers kingdom and threw his cousin Devaki and her new husband into jail after being warned by a sage that the eighth child of the couple would kill him and put an end to his evil tyranny.

So, Kamsa had guards watching at all times and every time Devaki delivered a newborn, Kamsa personally arrived into their cell to take the child from them and to smash it against the stone walls. Hard to imagine the experience but crazy-making comes to mind. Devaki and Vasudeva begged Kamsa to spare their babies.

They even promised to hand over the eighth but he would not be moved. Finally as the time came for the eighth child to be born, a heavenly voice told Vasudeva that the child Devaki would deliver was a divine being and that he was to take the newborn to a certain neighboring village, where he would find another newborn with which he should make an exchange before returning to the prison cell. The voice faded before Vasudeva could ask, “How?”

Kamsa had doubled the guard knowing that this child was his potential killer. As Devaki went into labor one evening, a terrible storm developed with lightening and loud claps of thunder.

Around midnight, all the prison guards fell into a deep sleep. Not even the crashing of the storm could rouse them. Devaki delivered a beautiful little baby boy at the stroke of midnight and much to the astonishment of the tortured couple, in the next moment all the doors of the prison swung open of their own accord. Vasudeva collapsed unto his knees and praised god and took the babe and ran through the rainstorm to the village where he did find another newborn with which he did make the instructed exchange. This was a newborn baby girl and she smiled knowingly at Vasudeva as he ran back to the dungeons.

Once he arrived back, the doors swung closed again and all the guard awoke. Kamsa was notified that the baby had been born and he arrived to do his thing. Devaki and Vasudeva pleaded for the babe’s life, but Kamsa was again unmoved. He grabbed the baby by her feet and started to dash her against the floor, but she slipped out of his hands and flew up.

The whole place was filled with the scornful laughter of a woman. The babe had turned into the goddess Durga. This fierce warrior goddess addressed Kamsa and told him that the eighth child was safe and that Kamsa would live in terror until the day he would be slain by the child. So saying, the goddess disappeared.

Kamsa lived in torment, always scheming to kill Krishna. Krishna, meanwhile, grew up happily in the village, destroying any demons he encountered effortlessly.

Quite a story. It’s got villains, heroes, and heroines, disembodied voices, and divine appearances. All the supernatural events like the guards falling asleep and the dungeon doors opening on cue, only add to the fascination.

It is the story of the birth of god, incarnate as a human being, just like Jesus. But unlike the biblical stories of the birth of the baby Jesus, Krishna’s is not offered to listeners as historical fact or even as the “real-true” undergirding of their faith. It is another rich story about another beloved god. It is easy for us to hear this story when we can categorize it as clearly “make-believe.” How much harder it is for us when it comes to the gospel stories, in a religions tradition that has always taught the biblical stories as though they were literally true.

The birth story of Jesus is one of the best known and most celebrated of the Christian religion. Even though the biblical accounts are pure fiction – right out of the religious imaginations of the gospel writers – they are LIVING myth, real to people as all good stories are.

So, here’s Matthew’s story about the birth of Jesus. It is not the same as Luke’s story, which we will be retelling in the upcoming pageant on Christmas Eve. Luke has the angel appearing to Mary to let her know what’s in store for her. He has the whole birth story of John the Baptist described. He sets up a journey to Bethlehem for the expected parents – all for good confessional reasons, to present the birth as the fulfillment of the Old Testament, to present Jesus as a messiah.

Matthew’s birth story starts with an elaborate genealogy to connect Jesus to Abraham. Then he gets right to the point.

Matthew 1:18-25, NRSV (ISA 7:14;8:8)

Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him: he took her as his wife, but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus.

I like Matthew’s direct style here. He takes a lot of care to be very clear about the sticky situation around exactly when and how Mary got pregnant. With a marriage custom which had a couple formally betrothed or engaged for a period of time before legitimately lying together as husband and wife, the timing of her condition was awkward. It seemed Joseph needed to be persuaded to keep with Mary. Thank God for that angel speaking up for her. Mary could have been dismissed. Pregnant and dismissed by her almost husband. Sounds bad. But Matthew, or whoever the gospel writer is, didn’t bother himself too much about Mary. Joseph’s honor is not threatened by the Holy Spirit. He comes through with the support Mary needs. And Mary bears him a son, and he named him Jesus.

Now, it is worth noting the very sparse elements of truth which must have been part of the real, true birth of the baby Jesus. His mother was named Mary by all accounts. Who was his father? It may have been Joseph the carpenter, or maybe it was a Roman soldier? Experts, like Davidson, in the area of the historical Jesus, accept either as equally unverifiable. In the gospels, the gospel truth, is that Jesus had siblings. Four brothers and two or more sisters. He may not have been the first born to Mary. Nothing is really known or reliable until Jesus’s ministry began decades later. Hmmm. But then there’s no magic. No away in the manger. No stars guiding the way of the wise men? No.

There was a birth though. There was a woman. Mary. She had seven kids and who knows how many pregnancies and miscarriages. Her son Jesus became a wandering preacher. He must have been a pretty good kid because she did seem to love him as a man even though he was downright rude to her, saying to her that he considered his real family was “whoever did the will of God.” He was crucified. She saw him on the cross.

She bore him into his life and witnessed his death. Whether or not he was conceived by man or holy spirit, Mary gave birth to Jesus. Did Mary have midwives? Sisters? Mothers to help her give birth? Did she have love or respect for the father? What about her mothering?

What about mothering – birthing a newborn, nursing a baby, cradling and cleaning and holding – feeding and watching and teaching and helping and waiting and repeating and showing and listening and hoping and worrying and letting go. Birth is miraculous. It makes many new people beyond the baby. It turns women into mothers, men into fathers, mothers into grandmothers, wise women, fathers into grandfathers, wise men. It turns brothers and sisters into aunts and uncles and best friends into god parents. Many new people with every birth.

So Jesus was born – is it something for us to celebrate, we the demythologized? He had a remarkable following as a wandering preacher who tried to teach everyone about the Kingdom of God. Was he an incarnation of that god? Was he the messiah the prophets of the Old Testament spoke of? Was he the leader of the Jews – to rescue them from the occupying imperial rule of the Romans?

What is he to you? A teacher who tried to wake people up to the immediacy and possibility of God’s love to transform human existence on earth and to show a way to bear our humanity the way a mother bears a baby: it takes submission to mysterious forces that can become overwhelming at times; it takes courage to bear the pain; it takes faith that no matter what happens, it will be well; it takes hope for the new life to emerge and to commit yourself to being there for another’s sake, and for the sanctity of life, or the love of God.

So, we can contemplate the unknowable true story but what should we do with the other story about the babe in the manger under the dazzling star, with the shepherds gathering around and the wise men arriving to give precious gifts and bow down? It is such a pretty picture and it may be an ultimate fiction for us still.

The whole plan to do the Christmas pageant here at First Church has revealed some interesting generational differences where this Christmas story comes in. For instance, if you are somewhere around sixty years or older, chances are you have seen or participated in some form of re-enactment of the traditional birth stories of Jesus. But if you are say, closer to forty, chances are that you’ve had little or no such experience. Is this true? If it is true for you, let me see your hands. This is true for me. Though I was familiar with the whole nativity scene from playing with creche sets, being unchurched, I just never had the exposure to a play about the birth of Jesus. And yet, only two generations before me, it was a common religious thread woven through the fabric of our society.

So doing the Christmas Pageant here at First Church this Christmas Eve will provide different experiences for these two different groups of people. For some it will feel like a returning to earlier days, maybe it will stir memories. That’s always a risky business. For others, especially for the children among us, it will feel like a discovery, a magical story, I hope vividly re-enacted. Whatever it may be for you, it is offered that you may find new insights into the story at the oft-hidden center of what has become such a frenzied season. Because stories are important to this holy day as it has been observed in the generations before us.

Maybe it is too difficult to think of the biblical stories with unfettered appreciation. They are too loaded with baggage – personal and cultural – you’d rather leave behind. So let’s take a look at some other important Christmas time stories that repeat the birth of the sacred theme, not about the birth of gods, but about the emergence of human spirit.

Now, everybody knows about how the Grinch stole Christmas, don’t they? In Dr. Seuss’s story, the Grinch lives way off up the mountain all by himself. He hates all the joy and merrymaking at Christmas and decides he to put an end to the celebrations one year. We find that the problem is that the Grinch’s heart is too small. But then his hard heart gets cracked-open a bit, warmed by a gesture a little Who girl makes which shows him the true human spirit of generosity. Then the Grinch’s heart grows two sizes and he ends up enjoying what he once hated.

And in Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, don’t we love to see Scrooge squirm when the ghosts of Christmases Past Present and Future show him what a miserly soul can expect of a lifetime – don’t we delight at the realization that convicts him and transforms him, that life can be as easily packed with love and joy as it can loaded down with bitterness and resentment.

These are beloved Christmas stories. Pieces of fiction. Not true in any literal sense but no less powerful or real than if they were. We love the lessons to be learned from them. We need the lessons. We need generous hearts. We need the cracked-open and growing hearts. We need to be reminded of how surprisingly joy can rush in and grab us, warts and all, any moment in this life. We know too well that tragedy can strike too, that evil exists, that sorrow can linger. To be alive is to risk it all. Birthing the sacred, our better, more alive and compassionate selves, is a wide-eyed life-affirming thing. Something to celebrate.

It is a kind of a test at Christmas. Not a test to see if you can decide whether any of these stories are true. You don’t ask that question when you watch the Grinch stealing Christmas, or Scrooge growing wise after his big night out. No, it’s not that kind of test. It’s a test to see whether you can enter into these stories, and let them inside of you.

The real miracles of Christmas are as open to non-Christians as they are to Christians. Hidden among all the shopping mall Santas, the incessant stars, angels, and wise men, there is a question. The question is: can you let these old stories work their magic on you? If you can, there may be some great gifts for you and for those you touch. For you never know in whom the sacred may be born. It could even be in born in you.