“Not a Santa Claus Saviour”
Today, inspired by something that the apostle Paul said to his fellow worker Titus, you will find a completely different 'take' on Christmas, one that runs afoul of much of what has been told to children over the years as part of the whole Santa Claus narrative. Sadly, however, it hasn't always been just children, but adults as well, who have bought into this 'I'm not good enough' narrative. God loves all of us, each of us, regardless of how good we are or aren't. God just loves us, period, end of story.
“God of the second chance”
One of my favourite Biblical stories is that of John Mark, the man generally reputed to be the author of Mark's Gospel. Eusebius tells us that he was a close associate of Simon Peter, which would account for the many seemingly first-hand details he includes in that gospel. The Scriptures themselves tell us relatively little about him, but what it does say is most telling. He was the travelling partner and sometime helper to Paul and Barnabas, but then, for some unknown reason, decided to leave the expedition and return home. (We can always speculate on the reason, but we will never know for sure). Anyway, on a subsequent journey, Barnabas proposes to bring him along, and to that suggestion Paul gets quite puffy and worked up and refuses to do so. In fact, Acts 15:36-41 tells us that Paul and Barnabas practically came to blows over the matter, which had the result that the two apostles parted ways, never to work together again. Nevertheless, Barnabas took John Mark under his wing, and later on, we hear something most strange and surprising come from the mouth of brother Paul. He says, in 2 Timothy 4:11 "Mark can be very useful to me, so please find him and bring him with you". Obviously, Barnabas had given him a second chance, and here is what happened. Thanks be to God, that He does the very same thing with each of us.
“Some glorious future prospects”
Advent, for many people, is a time of unresolved and seemingly contradictory messages. On the one hand, there are the four traditional topics, sin, death, hell and judgment, which are probably avoided by and large these days. Yet, if we look closely, John the Baptist and his preaching and his demands do indeed touch on these. Then, on the other hand, there are messages of anticipation and a foreshadowing of what is to be a glorious new future, prefigured, of course, in the birth of Christ.
Much of this ambivalence is mirrored in our day to day lives. On the one hand we know that this should be a time of preparation, of inner soul-searching and change, but, on the other hand, we are caught up with the furious anticipation and frantic getting ready for Christmas.
Many of the psalms and canticles for this season reflect this duality, but especially the glorious anticipation. Today's psalm, from Isaiah, is one of these. In the American Book of Common Prayer it is Canticle #9 and in our Canadian Book of Alternatives it is Canticle #3. It is interesting to note that both sources include the entire chapter, but leave out verse 1, which talks about the seeming change of heart on the part of God and His mercy towards us after previously being very angry with us. It is somewhat sad, because it does indeed show just why we can be so glad in Him.
“Caught in their own snares”
Today's passage sparked off a conversation, and a debate, that has not abated much less ceased in over two thousand years of church history. It concerns the demarcation between church/ God and state/ society and what is owed to each. Some have supposed that they constitute two separate, airtight compartments as it were, with each having its own particular, untrespassable and absolute authority. Others have said that God's realm and authority (or the church), while separate in some ways, serves to trump all else. And what makes this so difficult is that the lines are blurry and continue to impact us even today. In fact, given the fractious tenor of our times, it has become all the more of an issue. All we can do, I think, is pray for guidance, and listen, and try to deal gently with those who don't come to the same conclusion as we do.