St. Mary's Episcopal Church

Christmas 1

On Christmas Eve, I spent part of my night at the early service at my home church. As I was going in, I noticed a number of the little children dressed up for the night. There were a bunch of gold crowns, some angel wings here and there, and even one mom stopped on the path ahead of me, adjusting the head wraps of her three little shepherds.

"Isn't that neat?" I thought to myself. "They're all coming dressed for Bethlehem."

As the service progressed, I realized that this was not a nice coincidence, but part of a plan, with even a box of nativity dress-up material in the narthex. And after the carols, the children came from their families' seats all around the sanctuary to gather at the manger in front of the altar.

There were lots of animals - mostly sheep - and there were some Josephs, a half-dozen Marys - most with dolls - and parents with one real tiny baby - who got a lot of attention.

And then the angels came - at least two dozen - ranging from ballerina gear and full-feathered wings to a simple gold paper headband. And there were shepherds and kings and by the time it was done, just about every little one in the church was gathered at the manger. No pageant - no practice - no selection - no warning at all for some - just a time when everyone was welcomed to come and stroke the head of their newborn king.

And isn't that what we are given through Christmas - the chance for each and every one of us to know our God and King. In becoming one of us, fully human, this baby changed our lives forever. For in becoming human, and living and then dying for us, the life of this baby opened his arms - God's arms - to each and every one of us.

In this baby, God became small, experiencing all of our human weaknesses, fears, and frailty - becoming the most perfect of humans - our example to follow, with the word of God on human lips.

Paul describes our relationship with God through Jesus Christ by using the word "adoption." This is an interesting and strong choice of language, particularly in the Greek and Roman cultures of Paul's time. Adoption meant a child became an absolute part of the new family, leaving the past behind. In most cases, those adopted had been young slaves, and now became free, and heirs of all that belonged to their new father. What a change - from slave to inheritor!

And while a child born to a person could be disinherited or disowned, an adopted child could not be. Adoption, an action taken by the father on behalf of a child, brought freedom and hope. And this is the permanence and freedom with which we are adopted through Christ.

There is an earlier permanent, one-sided relationship in the Bible. That is God's covenant with Abraham, where God blessed Abraham and made him the father of the nation of Israel. As was the custom of the time, Abraham followed God's instructions and sacrificed and cut up animals, putting half on either side of a path. Typically, both parties to a covenant would seal the covenant by walking through the middle of the slaughtered animal parts. Yet with this covenant, God put Abraham into a deep, deep sleep - the kind of sleep that is described elsewhere only when God puts Adam to sleep to create Eve from his flesh. And while Abraham is unconscious, God himself, as a firepot, moves alone through the animal parts. God alone has sealed this covenant, taking all responsibility, yet granting Abraham grace, forever.

In Exodus we read, 'Thus says the LORD, "Israel is My son, My firstborn."' This covenant is still fully in effect, my professors assure us. We are added to that family through adoption.

And in our adoption through Christ, God again takes the responsibility. He is our father, welcoming us as children into his kingdom. The prophet Hosea stated God's relationship to his children most beautifully, saying of God, "When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son. It was I who taught Ephraim to walk, I took them up in my arms; I led them with cords of human kindness, with bands of love. I was to them like those who lift infants to their cheeks. I bent down to them and fed them."

So - when all is said, there remains a question: Why? Why this adoption? Why this change in our relationship with the God of Israel? Why this baby? And why now?

Paul alludes to this rather simply, writing, "when the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son." Perhaps it was just time. The world had grown. The tribes of Israel had prospered and spread. The Law of Moses and God's promise had preserved them for generations. So well, in fact, that leaders of Israel were enmeshed within the Roman Empire's economic and governing power structure.

At the same time, there were many within Israel who suffered the effects of the Law's entanglement with governing powers of the day. And there were many adjacent to God's people who remained outside. The poor, the sick, the uneducated - the unlucky - slaves - women - all of those separated from the kingdom of God by the decisions of men in a striated society.

Jesus' birth - to that poor young woman - conceived for all appearances outside of the letter of the law - and growing to the man who stood against the violence and separation of people in God's creation brought hope and inclusion outside of the Law. It was the fullness of time and time for God to stand against the use of the Law in that time to enslave and separate - rather than to unite for strength and health. And in this incarnation - this God who became man - we are adopted - and faith is revealed.

This is the Word, the Logos, whom John talks about. For with Jesus' birth, the wisdom and power of God himself came to us in a man - a baby man who would grow among us - a man who could touch and be touched - who could be afraid - angry - cry at the death of a friend - know the fears of those he loved - - - a man like us - - but not.

Remember the movie "Fly Away Home?" In it, a man and his daughter teach a lost flock of geese to migrate by virtually becoming a goose - by flying an ultralight aircraft and leading the geese as a goose. Now I am not meaning to minimize the unspeakably great gift of the incarnation - but we are not that far from the geese - it is easier to hear and understand the word walking among us as one of us.

In becoming human - in becoming one among us, God allowed us to come to him and become more like him. As we sang earlier this week in the last verse of Oh Come all Ye Faithful: "Word of the Father, Now in flesh appearing." And in this birth, "to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God."

And in our adoption, we are to think of God as "Abba" - Father - Daddy - For WE are now among the children and heirs of the Kingdom of God. We can and should run to God with our joys, and with our fear, and with our sadness, just as a little child would run to their parent -

Julian of Norwich wrote about this, saying: "We fall into our Lord's breast, as the child into the mother's arms, knowing our feebleness and our great need, knowing His everlasting goodness and His great love, ever seeking Him for salvation, cleaving to Him with faithful trust." The language is old, but the sanctuary of God's lap remains.

There is no question - We are beloved - We are wanted - and we are part of the life of that baby forever. He has received us, and now we receive each other through him.

I want to close with words from the prayer for adoption in our Book of Common Prayer:

Let us pray.

O God, you have taught us through your blessed Son that whoever receives a little child in the name of Christ receives Christ himself: We give you thanks for the blessing you have bestowed upon our family in giving us your child. Confirm our joy by a lively sense of your presence with us, and give us calm strength and patient wisdom as we seek to learn from this child to love all that is true and noble, just and pure, lovable and gracious, excellent and admirable. Let us follow the example of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.