Advent - One Single Change

"Something burns in our hearts that would gladly come out.  Something often flames up in our soul that we would like to call out to all people — a question, a complaint, a word of defiance, a rejoicing, a stark truth — something of the sort that a person simply cannot keep to himself, once it is there. It saddens us to be so alone, to be unable to share with anyone what moves us....Above all it saddens us that we are so cut off from each other, that there are always such different worlds — you in your house and me in my house, you with your thoughts and me with mine.  This is simply not the way life is meant to be, this separate life we all lead.  But with one single change we could have infinitely more joy and good fortune and righteousness among us, if we could open our hearts and talk with each other." - Karl Barth "To Believe" Advent Meditation 

As Advent 2016 approaches, I am brought back to this reading. Again it is as if Karl Barth's message was a personal letter to me and to so many of us. Barth describes a fire in our soul that finds no outlet for expression.  He laments our isolation, how each of us inhabit separate dwellings. When we do venture out, we mute our desire for heartfelt conversation. We are afraid and resort to small talk. Barth compares this to Zechariah's muteness after his encounter with the angel.  This is the isolation of modern society. For if there is no one to hear our voice, to share our griefs and joys, then how are we even alive in a way that makes us human?

That is why Christ came into the world, to make us human. To re-humanize us. But to do this, he had to experience the world with all its barriers and isolation. His entry into the world began with a frantic search for somewhere to enter it. Door after door was shut on them until at last Mary and Joseph had to settle for a stable.  Instead of being welcomed into the warmth of a household, Jesus was welcomed into the chill of night air among the animals. An event which should have been shared with family and friends was shared with strangers, shepherds in the fields who were called by the angels.

There was no peace on earth for the child Jesus. Shortly after his birth Herod attempted to kill him. His family fled to Egypt and waited there until Herod's death. Because Herod's son ascended to his father's throne, his family bypassed Bethlehem and settled in Nazareth. His family had to settle in a strange town and make a life there.

The story of Jesus' family is a story many in this world can relate to. If you can't relate, take a moment, close your eyes, and imagine yourself as the target of ethnic cleansing or your city bombed into oblivion. Imagine running for your life. Imagine travelling at night through the woods. Imagine taking rickety boats to cross rivers and seas. Imagine giving your life savings to smugglers to get you through to safety. Finally you arrive at a safe place but in that place you are a foreigner. You don't speak the language. People stare at you. You keep your head down. You feel isolated. Dehumanized. Rejected. Again the barriers.

God, incarnate in Jesus, could barely find a way into this world. Once here his life was in danger. He became other, vulnerable as anyone  could be in this world. Yet he came anyway. He demonstrated hope aginst insurmountable odds. He crossed the barrier between heaven and earth, between God and man, between man and man. He "destroyed the dividing barrier of hostility". In his person he brought the Kingdom of God to earth. 

We look back and romanticize his coming with all the cultural trappings accumulated over the centuries. We celebrate the miracles that happened so long ago. Yet the miracle awaits each of us. The words he spoke still echo down through the centuries. The challenge: Follow me. The miracle happens in our lives the moment we take up that challenge.

When we decide to follow, our preoccupation with tradition, gifts, token alms, and what is written on our coffee cups fall by the wayside. We fix our eyes on Jesus and his path. There will definitely be barriers. Following Jesus, we dare to cross them. Following Jesus is "one single change" after another that combine to form a path. A narrow way. We change our habits and practices. We notice people. We linger a bit longer in conversation. We listen, We knock on a door for the first time. We mend fences. We forgive. We notice the pan handler, not to fling a coin, but to ask his name. It's not easy, but it is the only way. We can take courage from those who have discovered the words of Jesus and followed. Some have written their journey down. We should read their stories. In the end, their journey began with "one single change".

Who for Our Sakes Became Accessible

"For your sakes, he became poor..." - St. Paul

This Advent, I thought about how much God gave up to enter our world in the person of Jesus Christ. I also thought about why He did it. He did it to become accessible....to all people. To do that, he had to become one of us, and not just the "one percent", but the "ninety-nine percent". He had to choose the lowest common denominator. To that end, he had to enter the world poor. To be poor is to have neither resources nor status. God gave up both. Christ was born in a barn, with animals. He was born as a refugee.  In many respects he was born in circumstances similar to what a great many displaced people experience in the modern world.

To be poor is to be denied access. Access to food, housing, medical care, a safe environment, dignity, and social standing. There were many barriers to access in Jesus' day. Being a Gentile, Being diseased ("unclean"). Being a foreigner. Being a woman. These barriers were used by the elite to keep out the undesirables. However, it seemed that everyone who was barred from approaching God by the religious elite was welcomed by Jesus. In fact, breaching social and religious barriers was a hallmark of Jesus' ministry. 

From what we know, Jesus grew up as the son of a tradesman. For most of his life, he worked in the family business. His first recorded public appearance was submitting to John's baptism. This was certainly an act of humility, as the religious leaders of the time would not submit to John's baptism. This public act of humility was the first of many. Subsequent acts of humility would have the dual effect of distancing Jesus from the religious elite and drawing him closer to the poor and outcast. Jesus did not exclude the elite. But the elite excluded themselves: either they admitted no need of the prophet from Galilee or would not risk their social status to associate with him.

The birth of Christ was announced with the message of unrestricted access: "Be not afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of a great joy which will come to all people". Despite the message of open access, subsequent church history has more than enough examples of walls being built. Today, the same people-groups are excluded along with some new categories: race, gender-identity, the elderly, and the undocumented. However, the greatest barriers come from our comfortable but isolated first-world lives, our technology, and ultimately modernity itself. Differences of belief and social status still separate us as human beings and from God.

So if these barriers trouble us, what are we to do? This Christmas, might I suggest something different, non-traditional, and non-religious. Reach out to those who are otherwise forgotten. Buy a cup of coffee for the bell-ringer outside your grocery store. The person inside the gas station booth. Public safety personnel working the holidays. The homeless person holding up a sign at the intersection. Nursing home residents and workers. Acts of kindness chip away at the barriers, the walls separating people from each other. If you will permit yourself an open mind, ponder the meaning of Jesus' words: "If you have done it for the least of these, you have done it to me". Beginning with simple acts of kindness, you might find Jesus in the place you least expected to find him.

Merry Christmas