Eureka (Ben Lee)

image courtesy of Myke Christoffel

If there had been a nightly news circuit in the time of Jesus' birth - an online newsfeed for the Holy Land - I wonder if Mary and Joseph would have been reading and shaking their heads in as much dismay as we do now:

'Can you believe it? This is not a good time to raise a child! It's like our culture thrives on divisiveness, argument, and scapegoating. How can a child grow up anything other than weary and jaded in a time like ours?'

And yet Jesus came, and was born into a world of divisiveness and social strife. He was born into an occupied land under an oppressive regime dealing with many radical discontents - a time and culture vastly different, and yet strangely similar to our own.

One of the common ways U.S. society, at least, enjoys creating divisiveness and strife is around the "science versus faith debate." Yet most major faiths agree with the fundamental concept behind one of the most revolutionary science theories of the 20th Century: Einstein's Theory of Relativity. For the non-science savvy person like myself it boils down to understanding that all energy and matter are interrelated. Everything - everything - is intertwined. We are not only inseparable from each other and our surroundings, but from even the farthest star in the cosmos.

We're All in this Together perf. Ben Lee. Lyrics HERE.

The fact that we're all in this together is not a new concept, but it's a Eureka moment when we realize that it's more than just a nice idea. It's the bedrock of our survival and thriving, and frankly, it's just scientific fact according to quantum physics. Jesus tried to get the message of our fundamental unity across his whole life, saying, "whosoever does this to the least of these does it to me," and "do unto others as you would have them do unto you," and really tried to drive it home in John 16:

 "This is my command, love each other."  - John 16: 17

It can't get much clearer than this, but somehow we forget to not only love one another, but even to really notice one another. We are all in this together, not because we have the same troubles, but because we acknowledge that we share in a common struggle through our days. We are imperfect, broken, frequently cynical or downtrodden. We are also strong beyond measure when we come together.

We Resist the Sleep when we refuse to believe the lie that we are isolated, freakish, or worthless. We Seed the Hope when we joyfully proclaim to one another that, "You're made of atoms, I've made of atoms... and we're all in this together!" 

Loneliness and a sense of isolation are a part of the human experience, and Jesus never promised that he would cure these feelings, or that being God-with-Us would resolve all suffering and loss in the here and now. What he did promise was, "Lo, I am with you until the end of the age." In other words, 'we're all in this together.' Together -- even with God-in-Christ, who does not separate from creation but draws closer, now and always.

Where do you need to feel "in this together" with others during this Advent season?

May your journey be marked by strangers and friends who come up alongside you in the twilight, listening to your need, being supported by your presence in turn, each and all sharing pilgrimage into the dawning day.

                                                                                                                                         - Anna



**This week, we'll take YOUR suggestions for what songs help you Seed the Hope or Resist the Sleep. Post a YouTube link with your thoughts and we'll re-post them all on our Saturday post.**

Thurs Jan. 5 - Love, Love, Love (The Mountain Goats)

One of the more popular of recent years' holiday films has been Love Actually, with its celebrations and reflections on the bitter and the sweet of earthly love in all its forms: family, romantic, friendship and more.  The general message, neatly packaged, is this: earthly love is messy, beautiful, complicated, painful, risky, self-contradicting- deeply imperfect, but somehow, sometimes, worth it.

Today's song takes the same idea, but to a much darker place.  As this song points out, the melody we're singing might be 'love, love, love,' but some terrible, brutal things are done in the twisted forms of love we foster in our lives, and the echoing of those actions can haunt us.

This could just be some morose anti-Christmas cheer reflection on human fallenness and depravity, but I hear something else: I hear God's pity and God's grace, too.  I hear Jesus coming as an infant, acting and speaking as a man about 'love, love, love' (echoing Dave Matthews 'love is all around' refrain from our Christmas Eve post) and having all of us so woefully, tragically, and almost willfully misunderstand him for two thousand years -- and yet and still offering us a love which is so wildly boundless, so graciously vulnerable, so passionately freedom-seeking that we can barely turn toward and believe it.

I received an emailed image tonight that sums up pretty well where I think we as Christians have twisted and mangled the idea of love, and especially Christ's love, back in on itself in so many ways (HERE).  How can we hear this song as not only as a call to own our own broken witness to Jesus' love, but as an invitation to remember the Source of that love and the ways in which, as the song reminds us, 'now we see this / as in a mirror dimly, / then we shall see each other / face to face' ?

Love, Love, Love by The Mountain Goats (lyrics HERE)

The line about seeing 'in a mirror dimly' is borrowed from 1 Corinthians 13, slightly after the famous passage on love popular at marriages, which, if we read carefully, is less about romantic love and more about the kind of love which Jesus modeled in his relations with us: the love of enemy and outcast, neighbor and friend, sinner and saint alike.

If I speak in the tongues of humans or angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind.  It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.  Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.  It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.  

Love never ends.

                                        - 1 Corinthians 13: 1-8a

May we continue to hear God's 'Christmas' song of 'love, love, love' in ways that bring life and wholeness, but also remember God's pity and grace for where we have erred.

Tues Dec. 20 Tidings of Comfort and Joy (Pete Droge)

Hello Mr. Montgomery, good to see you out on the street.

Been so long since we touched the ground

of this restless little town.

Good people, gather round, on Christmas Day.

There must be smoke coming out of every chimney,

the kindest words rolling off of every tongue,

And of all the gifts that you could give me, your love is still the greatest one.

- Pete Droge, On Christmas Day

         The weather has been unseasonably warm in Southeast Michigan this month. The prediction is that it will not snow before the end of the week here, and while I am mourning my white Christmas a bit, I have appreciated the increased number of people who seem to be out and about enjoying this weather. There is something I just love about leaving my office and greeting the neighbors as they sit on their porch in the late afternoon, or going to a holiday street festival downtown and running into friends, or even being able to take a walk on a Saturday morning and stop to pet the Johnsons’ dog as I pass their house. This proximity and connection to others is usually more difficult in the cold weather months here and I am grateful for the reprieve, however long it lasts.

            These chance meetings and times of visiting, are what I pop into my head when I listen to today's song. Though the song embodies a kind of nostalgic, small town culture that isn't really part of my Christmas past, I do connect with the themes of gathering together, prioritizing relationships and recognizing the blessedness of knowing and being known to those around you. I hear Pete Drodge singing into his time and culture, the tidings of comfort and joy from our carols and hymns of old.

                                                   On Christmas Day

This player will not display on mobile or non-Flash devices. - sorry!

            This past Sunday, my pastor preached about God’s love for people throughout time. He referenced the many stories of our ancestors in faith that tell of God being with the people: Abraham, Moses and the Israelites leaving Egypt, wandering in the desert, the judges, kings and prophets. For all time people of faith have believed that God is with us, but the Christmas story brings us a new idea about God. This time God isn’t just with the people, God becomes one of the people, inhabiting a body; the Eternal Creator wrapped up in flesh, in struggle, in joy, in the experience that is human life. There was a shift, pastor said, from God from being with us to God being within us.

            The last statment has occupied much of my own reflection these past days. I am compelled by this belief, the incarnation, not just God’s coming to earth as a baby human, but the added wonder that God is embodied in us, in our living and loving and connection to one another. This season offers a sacred call to us, to celebrate the coming of God to dwell with us, walking among us so many years ago; but it also calls us to celebrate a God that comes to dwell with in us each day. There is a way in which even our modern culture around Christmas keeps traces of this wisdom for us, as we sing good tidings, give charitably, send greeting cards and reconnect with family and friends.  But beyond that, a wonderful part of our Advent preparation is dwelling in our relationships and our connection to others; looking into the kind words, wishes for peace, and time spent together, and seeing the invitation, love and presence of our God Incarnate.

           

 Holy One,  dwell within us, as we dwell with each other, looking toward the celebration, peace and joy that you are bringing to the world.

-Lindsey