Gerrit van
Honthorst-(Gherardo delle Notti) (Utrecht 1592-1656),
Adoration of the
Child, 1619-1620. Oil on canvas. Florence, Uffizi Gallery
Joy for the Poor
Homily delivered at Trinity Parish Ashland (Oregon)
24th December 2016: 6:00 p.m., 11:00p.m. Sung Festal Eucharist
24th December 2016: 6:00 p.m., 11:00p.m. Sung Festal Eucharist
The Rev. Fr. Anthony Hutchinson, SCP, Ph.D.
God, give us hearts to feel and love,
Take away our hearts of stone and give us hearts of flesh.
Amen.
I remember as a boy hearing for the first time the "naughty choirboy" version of the carol: "while shepherds washed their socks by night, all seated on the ground." It was about the time I first heard one of my comrades make the comment "'and there they found Joseph, and Mary, and the babe lying in a manger'--how did all three fit in there?" We often misunderstand these stories. We've heard them often, and familiarity breeds inattention. One thing we miss out entirely is how profoundly political these stories are.
Our Christmas Gospel reading from Luke today begins with a reference to Caesar Augustus: Gaius Octavian, the adopted heir of Julius Caesar who conquered all other competitors for power and founded the Roman Empire. Julius Caesar had been declared a god by the Roman senate after his assassination; when Augustus ascended to the role of First Citizen, he quickly accepted what was to become his favorite title: divi filius, son of a god. This was because he honored his adopted father Julius as a god as well, and liked the sound of the title. His propaganda machine over the years added other terms to make sure everyone understood who Augustus, the son of God, was: Savior (soter), Lord (dominus or kyrios), and High Priest (pontifex maximus). Augustus, who brought in the Pax Romana, the Roman Peace, to make Rome the greatest nation on earth, wanted everyone to know that he was great, smart, rich, powerful, the ultimate winner where other Roman politicians and generals were losers. The propaganda machine in the eastern provinces went even further: the birth of Augustus had been miraculous and marked with signs in the heaven and divine announcements. In becoming Emperor, Augustus was merely receiving his due. He was quality, and had name recognition to beat the band. It was not civil war that brought him to power, but divine will.
Our Christmas Gospel reading from Luke today begins with a reference to Caesar Augustus: Gaius Octavian, the adopted heir of Julius Caesar who conquered all other competitors for power and founded the Roman Empire. Julius Caesar had been declared a god by the Roman senate after his assassination; when Augustus ascended to the role of First Citizen, he quickly accepted what was to become his favorite title: divi filius, son of a god. This was because he honored his adopted father Julius as a god as well, and liked the sound of the title. His propaganda machine over the years added other terms to make sure everyone understood who Augustus, the son of God, was: Savior (soter), Lord (dominus or kyrios), and High Priest (pontifex maximus). Augustus, who brought in the Pax Romana, the Roman Peace, to make Rome the greatest nation on earth, wanted everyone to know that he was great, smart, rich, powerful, the ultimate winner where other Roman politicians and generals were losers. The propaganda machine in the eastern provinces went even further: the birth of Augustus had been miraculous and marked with signs in the heaven and divine announcements. In becoming Emperor, Augustus was merely receiving his due. He was quality, and had name recognition to beat the band. It was not civil war that brought him to power, but divine will.
The gospel writer who places the
birth of Jesus against the backdrop of the rule of Augustus is making a
point. It is this little baby born in
a stable who is Son of God, Savior, Lord, and High Priest, not Augustus. The focus in this story is not on the rich,
the powerful, and those who claimed they were quality. The focus is on the lowly of the land: the
poor. The angel choirs and heralds
announce the birth, just as the divine Augustus’ birth had been announced, but
they do so to shepherds in the fields.
The ones who greet the baby Jesus are not the rich, famous, and
powerful. Shepherds come to the
stable. The prophets Simeon and Anna
later in this chapter are both elderly retirees who spend their days in the
Temple. There is not a ruler in sight,
nor a master of commerce. It’s just
poor people. In this Gospel, when Jesus
has grown up and finally gives his first sermon, he starts his ministry with these
words: “The Spirit of
the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor” (Luke 4:18).
One of the reasons
Luke’s infancy story is so warm is that it focuses on those who accept and love
Jesus, and these are generally people on the margins of society, the poor.
Contrast this with
the story in Matthew: Jesus’ people
reject him at his birth, but mysterious magi (wizards) from the East bring him expensive
gifts fit for a King and a Priest. King
Herod hears of the birth of Jesus from the magi, and along with the rich and
mighty of Jerusalem high society, trembles in his boots. He is afraid of a contender for the title
King of the Jews, and begins plotting to rid himself of this unwanted
competitor. Herod lived in a Palace and
fortress named after him, the Herodium, just south of Jerusalem. So he sits in there in his private palace—dare
I say, in “Herod Tower?”—driven by his own fear of becoming a loser, and orders
a massacre. The family of Jesus in this
story has to flee to Egypt, become refugees and immigrants to save their lives,
and later have to take up a new residence in Nazareth because Jerusalem,
Bethelehem, and Judea are no longer safe.
But in Luke’s
story, the poor welcome Jesus, and he is able to lose himself in the mass of
poor people, and return with his family to grow up in his home town Nazareth,
where he “increased in wisdom and in years, and in divine and human favor”
(Luke 2:52).
The angel says “I
bring you news of great joy to all people.”
There is irony here, for such an announcement of good news of a royal
birth, or euangelion, are normally
made to the elite ruling class. When the
angel says “all” here, he lays a bit of stress on the word "all," meaning,
“including you, the poor.” But he says
“joy to all people,” all the same. This
announcement of good news is not just joy for the literal poor, the rich are
included. All are called to rejoice,
including the wealthy and the powerful. But in order to experience this joy, we must
in our hearts feel the need and the open-handed sense of expectant hope of most
of the poor. I have lived in several third world countries
and seen poverty. Some of the most
perfectly beautiful acts of generosity and sharing I have ever seen were
performed by the poorest of the poor. We
see it in our Wednesday homeless shelter here at Trinity: apart from a very few disturbed and occasionally
belligerent people, most of those who come are grateful, generous, and bring as
much to the evening as they get out of it.
This is the heart of the poor the angel song seeks.
In order to accept
and receive Jesus as Lord, Savior, High Priest, and Son of God, we need to
reject the claims of such political leaders as Augustus and Herod in this
broken and unhappy world. In order to
advance the Reign of God Jesus proclaimed, we must find solidarity with the
poor, and work hard to help them, bring justice to or social and economic arrangements,
and end exploitation and abuse of any and all our sisters and brothers. We must turn aside from the vainglory of the
rich, the powerful, and “quality” people.
We must with intention live simply, not abuse our earth or each other,
and live joyfully knowing the Reign of God is in our midst.
One of my favorite
Christmas carols is a Welsh song that teaches this truth, called Poverty. I learned it from British friends when I
first lived in Beijing, where I served as the director of the Peking Diplomatic
Carol Choir for several years. Here are
the words in English:
Poverty sung by the Adelaide Chamber SingersAll poor men and humble,all lame men who stumble,come haste ye, nor feel ye afraid.
for Jesus, our treasure,with love past all measure,in lowly poor manger was laid.
Though wise men who found himlaid rich gifts around him,yet oxen they gave him their hay.
And Jesus in beautyaccepted their duty;contented in manger he lay.
Then haste we to show himthe praises we owe him;our service he ne'er can despise.
Whose love still is ableto show us that stablewhere softly in manger he lies.
In the name of
Christ, Amen.
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