Bishop David Kendall's Blog

Christmas!  Let me tell you what I see.  Things are not what they seem.  A new world has dawned and we can be on the front edge of powerful and beautiful stuff worthy of the Maker who became like the made in order to re-make everything better than new.

Looking around us, we should be struck by the stark contrast between our relatively full and richly blessed life and the way it is for most of the world’s people.  We are on notice that it was not primarily to the likes-of-us that Jesus was given, in the first instance.  We know the first recipients of Christmas giving were poor folk, initially delighting mostly the lowly.  The good news his coming signaled was most deeply appreciated by those who were last and least.  We understand that the joy of the first Noel was not a confirmation of the fullness that a few already enjoyed (and therefore certainly not a guarantee), but a promise that the hungry were to be fed, the empty made full, the oppressed liberated, and the sad made glad by dream-come-true good news tailored specifically for the bad news situations with which most people were stuck.  And, from some vantage points it seems as though little has changed in the two millennia since.  So, as we look around us we must deal with this fact: the joyful good news of Jesus’ coming was a threat to all whose comforts trace to sources other than the outrageous generosity that stopped at nothing for the sake of us all.  We must ask what forms of celebration would help us find joy in the gift of Jesus on its own terms and then gather us up into His continuing over-the-top generosity for the sake of others, even or especially others we do not yet know?

Then, look aheading, we shall insist that CNN or FOX or one of the other networks does not and cannot tell it like it is.  No, despite occasional and varied signs to the contrary—such as widening gaps between rich and poor, terror and war, economic crisis, political corruption, social/cultural degradation, environmental disasters, or some other woe—despite such signs, something did happen in the gift of this child, something decisive and sure.   Indeed, something like transformation—not just change, but transformation, comprehensive renewal, extreme makeover, is afoot!  The good news of this season will not be limited in scope to some people, but will expand and reach toward all people; it’s not suited to just one time but all time and then beyond time; and it’s not targeted merely to humans—and certainly not to some part of the human being—but all creatures great and small and every facet of creation in all of its magnificent variety.  We shall insist on it and affirm it, long and yearn and pray for it, and willingly give our lives in the New Year to participate in His work to make it so.

Immanuel must  be everyone’s reality!

We celebrate the coming of Immanuel—God with us in Jesus the Messiah—in a world desperately in need of good news and forlornly weary of platitudes.  Glory to God in the highest!  Well, yes, but what about us in the lowest?

If it doesn’t work for the whole world and all of reality, does it truly work?  That’s a question I have been asking of my preaching and teaching in recent years.  I was forced to ask it seriously and urgently when I began going to other places, addressing other cultures, and found that some of my “best stuff” just didn’t work there and in those circumstances.  So, does it work for the whole world—for the highest and the lowest places and those who inhabit them?

Advent 2009 comes to a world where:

· little girls are robbed of their childhood, to be enslaved for unspeakable purposes,

· little boys are forced to take up real arms and taught to maim and kill others,

· millions are displaced and driven to refugee camps by tribal conflict, genocidal assault,   famine, and political corruption,

· millions more are living without hope of a future better than their present meager subsistence,

· millions of others endure in despair even though they will never worry about creature comfort, adequate daily provisions, or lack of opportunity,

· millions have never not been in danger, who live in war zones, among predators, or in places of social and cultural hostility,

· millions whose circumstances and surroundings are safe and secure, but still live in fear and angst.

Meanwhile, here at home in the USA, Advent continues to wash over us with promises of hope and help.  Yet such promises are muted for those:

· who have lost their jobs,

· who have buried their loved ones,

· whose children are missing through unwise choices or broken relationships,

· whose dreams for the future have shattered,

· whose past has caught up with them,

· whose pain—whether physical, emotional, relational, or spiritual—has become unbearable.

Advent 2009 teases the many who would like to help, who long for all that is wrong to be right around them and within them, but have begun to worry that it’s never going to happen!

Now, here we are, followers of the One who has come, who is here, whom Scripture names Immanuel—meaning “God with us,” celebrating this good news.  Can we be serious? 

I think we can, even though everything I’ve said above is accurate, even though the world is as it is.  Let me tell you why I think so.

To begin, the story we celebrate acknowledges the world as it is, or was, which reflects the sad realities I’ve listed and their less than encouraging portents.  Into just such a world angels visited, announced the good news, followed by unexpected and miraculous conceptions, real labor, delivery, danger and threat, narrow escape, rejoicing, and then … and then … well what looks like more of the same ole same ole. 

The child was born and then many years of hardly a God-sighting, until the beginning of a ministry.  Even after that beginning, which was truly exciting and full of unexpected and miraculous signs of God-with-us, there was rejection, abandonment, betrayal, and dying.  Of course, after that came resurrection and Pentecost and then wildly expanding and out of control multiplying of God-with-us communities all over the place.  Finally, it seemed we were on the way.  But, then … again!  In other words, upon careful reading the story itself prepares us for how the story unfolds, for the fact that at times it may seem not to be unfolding at all, for moments when we are nearly distracted altogether and tempted to think the story was fanciful fiction rather than ultimate fulfillment.

And, upon even closer attention to the story—this time the Advent story itself, we find this same feature.  An Angel comes to announce that finally the consolation of Israel is at hand, that ancient promises are to be kept, that the Messiah is coming.  But then a baby, in Bethlehem, to nobodies—this is the way God will act?  Yes, this is the way.  Not as you would think.  Not as you would prefer.  Not on your schedule.  Not by your means.  This is the way.

A child is born.  A Son is given.  The seed is planted.  The leaven is working.  Here and now, in this world, amongst people dwelling in various shades of darkness, yearning for relief that just seems so long in coming—here and now help and hope inhabits, purpose and power engages, light illumines, life surges, a way opens up by which the NEW comes. 

A child is born.  A son is given.  Watch this child.  See him grow and go.  Follow him closely.  See what he does.  Follow carefully.  Watch not only what he does but how he does it.  Follow closely.  Follow him, not other followers, not abstractions of him, not a philosophy about him, but him.  Follow.  Keep following.  Keep watching, maintain focus.  See it his way, plan it his way, and walk his way.  Follow and keep at it.  See what he does.  Marvel that it happens in that way, his way!  Watch how something small grows large, something hidden all of a sudden pops into view, something weak outwits and outmatches in ways that are huge.  See how light exposes and clarifies.  See how life swallows up death, how good and right somehow manages to win—not always and not quickly but surely often enough to launch new ventures of hope!

Immanuel!  Really and truly. 

For most of the first half of Advent 2009 we have not been home for the holidays, not by a long shot.  In fact, we have found ourselves in places where people didn’t know or acknowledge the season—such as Muslim Nigerians as the season began or totally non-believing vacationers most recently.  Or else, we’ve been in places where folks know the season, but know it only as holiday rather than holy day.

At first it’s just strange to be with people who don’t know/want to just bust out in joyful, seasonal song as you do.  Then, after a while, it’s just sad—sad not to be where optimal celebration quite naturally occurs, and sad to be denied the pleasures of traditional familiar and familial forms of celebration.

I actually found myself “unhappy” to be in one of the most beautiful and pleasant places on earth and “eager” to return to another place that could be quite dreadful this time of the year!  I found myself wondering what’s wrong with these people.  Don’t they know that the best news ever rings true and waits to be celebrated?  Why doesn’t someone just jump for joy?

Then I remembered it wasn’t always this way at this time of the year, this way I longing for it to be.  Once upon a time, the young lady went into labor and delivered her child—the child, the very one answering age-long, cosmic yearning.  And at his delivery most of the world yawned.  Except for a few no account shepherds no one on the planet partied.

Later a devoted follower put it this way: He came to his own and his own did not receive him!  Indeed, the One instrumental in the creation of all things, even now critical to the well-being of all things, this One somehow, some way turns out to be this Child.   This one makes all the difference, yet his coming scarcely catches the attention of anyone.

I remembered that the One whose coming we celebrate had to leave home to start the party.  The Life of the Party had to relinquish the personal delight of home to make another home for the delight of others.   I realized again that it wasn’t about him, it was about others, about us and all among whom he came to be at home.

And, I realized, that perhaps the real party waits to happen most joyfully “not at home,” but elsewhere, in places where the people don’t know or care—yet!  Perhaps the best parties await the passing of the season and the obedience of some who will relinquish the delights of home for the delights of others.  Until the day comes when everywhere is home and everybody sings, dances, and parties.

I agree with C.S. Lewis who asserted that the greatest miracle was not Jesus' virginal conception, nor his resurrection from the dead, nor any of the other manifestations of power in calming the forces of nature or healing the brokenness of human bodies, minds, and spirits.  No, the greatest miracle is the incarnation. The most jaw-dropping and eye-popping feat of all came when God somehow, some way became human–totally human, yet nonetheless still God.  Accomplish that and everything else becomes cake.  Assuming that's what's going on in Jesus of Nazareth, conception in a virgin's womb, corpses reanimating with life and many other wonders follow as a matter of course.  To my mind, Lewis goes to the core issue and nails it.

And what a wonder that the eternal One should embrace tiny temporal parameters, that universe making and unmaking power should assume the frail vulnerable form of a new born baby, that Transcendence should manifest in stunning immanence, that unbounded wisdom should enter the fog of ignorance and the smog of deception, that LIFE should accept conditions devolving into a sentence of death!  Well, such wonders multiply with no end in sight.

why?  For none of the reasons that usually motivate our kind.  Not because God could–just to strut the divine stuff.  Not because God must–to satisfy some lack or deficiency.  No, only for the sake of the human family with which God so wondrously identified and then entered, only to bring the healing and the renewing so essential for the family to realize its destiny.

Which was and is?  God said, "Let us make the human being in our image and likeness," and so God did.  And, then, those whom God called he justified, and those he justified he glorified, so that they might be conformed to the image of his Son, this Jesus who was and is God incarnate, God-become-like us.  So that, as we center our focus on this one–on God-become-like us–we ourselves are being changed into the very same likeness, from one degree of glory to another.

God became like us so that, as God always intended, we may become like God–like God in love, for God is love; like God in preferring, embracing and walking in the light, for God is light; like God in passionate pursuit of the good, no the very good, as it was once upon a time when God had finished making all God had made through the Son by the power of the Spirit–God finished it and God said, "Ah, this is very good!"  God became like us so that we become like God in passionate pursuit of the "very good" sounding forth over the whole of all God once created, is redeeming, and will recreate.

And, somehow, it spins out of this central wonder and miracle: God-become-like us in this little baby, so we become like God, first as a little baby, for no one enters without turning and becoming like a child, without rebirth to a living hope–first as a little baby, then in all ways cooperating with loving kindness and latent powers to shape a life in God-ward ways.

One of the best things to happen this year (2009) in our faamily was the birth of another baby: Ryland Kendall Pastor, our first grandchild.  What a wonder and miracle–for this little person to emerge in delivery and then emerge in development.  (Again, to think GOD becoming like this simply blows the mind!)  As I write, Ryland is well on the way toward his full human potential.  Amazingly, he contributes almost nothing to this development–most of it is done for him by his loving human parents.  We are told that the most profound, life shaping things will already have occurred by the time Ryland is aware and capable enough to make choices or take actions.  But there are just a couple things even baby Ryland does.

One, he gives full and sustained attention to his care-givers–I mean he gazes at their faces, he reaches out clumsily to touch noses, cheeks, ears and lips of the one holding him.  He strains to focus attention to their every move.  He echoes back their sounds as best he can.  Nothing delights Ryland more than to be in the presence of those who hold him, care for him, and attend to him in every way they can (I might also add nothing delights them more!).  And nothing seems to distress Ryland more than to lose sight of them, to be denied their attention.

That reminds me of the other thing even baby Ryland does.  Shamelessly and spontaneously, he cries out whenever need or perceived need assaults him.  In time, Ryland will have words that better articulate his cries.  He will name the source of his help, and will develop a full vocabulary for disclosing his situation more clearly.  Even so, he will seldom exceed his current grasp of just how utterly dependent he is upon those who care for him!

The greatest miracle and wonder is God became like us so that we might become like God.  I am realizing that even in his weakest, smallest, and most vulnerable form, even in the helplessness of infancy, Jesus reveals the way and invites us to his way.

As Jesus once did and as Ryland now does, Jesus' way is to offer rapt attention to the face of the Care-giver, to reach out clumsily toward the Face, to strain to feel its contours, to learn its shape, to delight in its expressions.  There I fix my gaze, refocusing repeatedly as necessary hoping for a clearer and sharper image.  I listen for the sounds of His attentiveness and echo them back.  I do not hesitate to cry out in my need–whether real or just perceived.  I trust.  I rest.  I sleep.  I wake.  I am cared-for.  The most important things, the essentials without which all latent powers and developed prowess can accomplish nothing–come as gift.  I am grace and grateful.  I am content.

At least, miracles of miracles, because of that baby this is the way open before me and us.  This is the way we are invited to live and walk now and always. 

The unclaimed ones are best!  Blessings that is.  On this Thanksgiving weekend, with Advent just around the corner, I am reflecting on the blessings we enjoy.  Of course, the usual come to mind—family, friends, freedom, opportunity, food—lots of food with stunning variety, richness of experiences, and the list goes on.  All of these I claim with relish and am blessed.  But the unclaimed ones are best!

 

One expects to list God in this connection.  Of course, God in creation, redemption, provident care, compassionate responsiveness, incredible patience, abounding in all things good in ways we cannot calculate—yes, what blessing, well-spring of blessing God is and provides!  These common—that is experienced by people generally—are complemented by a host of more personal, targeted if you will, blessings that flow to us relentlessly.  Indeed, but the unclaimed ones still are best!

I think of many who have experienced unusual blessing in recent weeks or months.  Some have welcomed a loved one home—from war, from far-away residence, from threatening illness, from estrangement or some other far country.  What joy the welcome occasions!  Even so, the unclaimed ones are best!

 

The Apostle Paul describes the indescribable gift—substitute “blessing” here—in a variety of ways.  Once he says that the one who knew no sin became sin for us, so we might become the righteousness of God.  Elsewhere, he wrote of One who was rich yet for our sake became poor so that we might experience his wealth.  In another place, he tells us that Jesus Christ shared equality with God and yet did not take advantage, did not claim that blessing.  Instead, he relinquished it, he emptied himself so that we might be assured we are never alone, or never lower than he has been and now is with us, and never beyond eventual, glorious exaltation with him.  In all these cases, Jesus did not claim blessing that was his so that we might receive blessing otherwise totally beyond us.  Only these unclaimed blessings make possible the best blessings we enjoy! 

 

Recently I read again a gospel account of Jesus’ death on the cross.  One of the most poignant taunts of his detractors was that, “he saved others, why doesn’t he save himself!”  Likewise, one of the darkest temptations of that moment was, “if you are who you say, then save yourself.  Come down from that cross!”  What blessed relief such self-salvation represented!  Yet, the fact of the matter was he could not save himself and us also.  He had to leave his own blessing unclaimed in order for blessing to flow toward us.  The unclaimed ones are the best!

I’m thinking that the blessing our world needs most are also the unclaimed ones.  The whole world is targeted by Jesus’ radical relinquishment of blessing, so that any blessing that flows to us can flow also to all.  But I think they will flow only if Christ-followers follow, only if in our following after the one who refused to claim all his blessings we too find ways to leave unclaimed some blessing for the sake of others.  That is, is it really possible for us to follow Christ, who shows us the best blessings by not claiming all that was his, without doing as he does?  Is it really possible to follow without fully following? 

 

These are rhetorical questions.  Of course, it is not possible to follow without following!  Of course, the best blessings will not flow to all people in some way other than they have to us.  Of course, the best blessings, which many will miss otherwise, call for Christ-followers not to claim them out of love for Jesus and the world Jesus loves.

What if this Christmas our giving included a generous element of denying blessing for the sake of others?  What if Christ’s-coming and our celebration of it prompted a lavish relinquishment of what is rightfully ours, so others will know they are not alone and that the best and its Author is reaching toward them? 

 

I do not know at the moment what this would look like, but … what if?  What if, millions more could know that the best blessings come because the One who has come, and his followers, didn’t grab it all for themselves?