Christmas Day 2022

Rev Indrea Alexander

Isaiah 9:2-7, Luke 2:1-20

I can’t take a decent selfie. I know the basics, you poke that little symbol on your phone and suddenly its looking at you not the world in front of you. And then you line yourself up, and the other people if there are some, and push the dot. And “voila!” another terrible selfie.  Nothing natural and relaxed about it, and definitely nothing glamorous. Just an awkward, unflattering, poorly framed pic of myself, with too many chins and a little bit of tongue showing because I was concentrating so hard. Bother. 

Some people have selfies down to a fine art. They know how to position themselves, what  angle to hold the phone. They know how to get the best lighting. They know how to make themselves look good. Look amazing, actually. Because good isn’t good enough. And everyone knows just by looking at their pic that they know the right people, move in the right circles, wear the right clothes, and just have an amazing life. It might not be true, but they know how to create an image.

God doesn’t. The story of Jesus’ birth is full of image faux pas.
Jesus is born to the wrong parents - anonymous people of little consequence, living in an occupied Roman backwater. But to make things worse, the child isn’t even delivered among family and friends. No one in Bethlehem has an inkling about Jesus’ extraordinary conception and the angel’s declarations of his purpose - that he will be great and will be called Son of the Most High God, a king whose kingdom will never end. And that he is to be called Jesus because he will save his people from their sins.

No. As one writer puts it, “Mary and Joseph have to deliver the saviour of the world in a town that they don’t know, in an anonymous inn, among people who haven’t a clue that the one that all Israel has waited for for centuries is tucked up in an animal food trough next door.”      

The writer continues, “It’s true that this unexpected journey to the town of [Joseph’s] ancestors fulfilled the Old Testament prophecies and would ultimately help to cement [Jesus’] messianic credentials, but at this early stage, it doesn’t look too good.” (Lost for Words, ed Jane Williams, Christmas year A)

What was God thinking? To have real impact, wouldn’t it have been more sensible for Jesus to be born into a little more - or even a lot more - money and status? Imagine the opportunities he could have had. He could have wielded great influence and changed things from the top down... couldn’t he?

But we know that advantage can bring compromise. Those advantaged by the status quo are not so likely to change it. Groups with tobacco sponsorship are unlikely to speak out against big tobacco. Groups with lotteries sponsorship are unlikely to speak about gambling harm. Groups with alcohol sponsorship are less likely to challenge the level of influence or negative impact of the alcohol industry.

If Jesus had been born and lived with money and status, could he have spoken truth to power? Could he have been the prophetic voice the secular and religious leaders of his time needed   to hear? And could he have related so readily to those on the margins - or would his relative affluence have been a barrier?

Over the years the church has often “toned down” the uncomfortable Jesus. We have claimed him and tamed him. Turned him into “Gentle Jesus, meek and mild.” Made him less challenging, less difficult. We have expected him to work in people’s spiritual and emotional lives, but please leave our money, possessions and lifestyles a little latitude. We have repeatedly prayed “your kingdom come on earth,” with little personal engagement with the gritty responsibility of working with him on that, to bring justice, healing and peace in our communities and world.

Jesus wasn’t meek and mild. He was challenging and disruptive to the status quo. The chorus of a modern hymn refreshingly reflects this view: “First born of Mary, provocative preacher, itinerant teacher, outsider’s choice; Jesus inspires and disarms and confuses whoever he chooses to hear his voice.” Jesus - inspiring, disarming, confusing.

That song, titled Firstborn of Mary, comes from the international Iona community.

The Iona Community is an ecumenical community of men and women founded in Scotland in 1938 during the depths of the great depression, when people were suffering both the aftermath of World War I and the imminent prospect of another war. Founder George MacLeod was an inner city minister appalled by the lack of impact the church had on the lives of those most hard-hit by economic and political events.

He took a half a dozen young clergy and half a dozen craftsmen to the remote island of Iona to rebuild a 1000 year old abbey church that had fallen into disuse and disrepair. The project was to be a tangible sign of the unity of worship and work; church and industry; the spiritual and material.

As the Iona community grew, members returned to the inner city to build housing and toexperiment with different patterns of Christian life. A three-fold focus developed - peace and justice; work and a new economic order; and community and celebration. A strong aspect of the community’s life is music, and many non-traditional hymns and songs have been written.

John Bell, from the Iona community, understands the appeal of our dear old Christmas carols, but is concerned about some of the misconceptions they reinforce. He is not content with images of Mary as docile and doting, and has written alternative songs about her. In `No Wind at the Window’ Bell writes lyrics about Mary’s interaction with the angel Gabriel:
               “No payment was promised, no promises made;
                no wedding was dated, no blueprint displayed.
               Yet Mary, consenting to what none could guess,
                replied with conviction, `Tell God I say yes’.”
I love it.  She “replied with conviction, `Tell God I say yes’.” A woman with inherent strength,  and she will need it - not only to face the grief and challenges of the years of Jesus’ adult ministry, but also to weather his terrible twos and his adolescent years.
Despite what Once in Royal David’s City says, John Bell points out that there is “substantial     evidence to suggest that Jesus did not `honour and obey’ throughout all his wondrous childhood.” He reminds us of the distress 12 year old Jesus caused his parents by disappearing for days when they went on pilgrimage to Jerusalem together.  

The Iona song lyrics not only rescue Jesus from meek mildness, and Mary from docility, they also rejoice in God’s inclusion of the marginalised:
               “God, determined to be different
                from the standards we think best...
               lets forgotten folk be blessed.” 
And with special reference to the Christmas story:
               “Not the powerful, not the privileged, not the famous in the land,
               but the no-ones and the needy were the first to hold God’s hand.”
 Mary, Joseph, shepherds, “were the first to hold God’s hand”. This is consistent with the Jesus of the gospels who touched lepers, cared about women, children, prostitutes, tax collectors, and healed the lame and the blind.

In Colossians (1:15-20) it says Jesus was “the visible likeness of the invisible God”. We are told that in Jesus “all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell,” and that through Jesus God’s relationship was restored with all things on earth and in heaven.

Jesus was the visible likeness of the invisible God. A provocative preacher, itinerant teacher, friend of the marginalised, conscience of the powerful, healer and hope-bring. I encourage you to look at him more closely, because Jesus is God’s perfect selfie.