The Christmas two years before Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s
death in Nazi Germany, while in prison, he wrote these words to his fiancee :
I
think we’re going to have an exceptionally good Christmas. The very fact that every outward circumstance
precludes our making provision for it will show whether we can be content with
what is truly essential. I used to be
very fond of thinking up and buying presents, but now that we have nothing to
give, the gift God gave us in the birth of Christ will seem all the more
glorious; the emptier our hands, the better we understand what Luther meant by
his dying words: “We’re beggars; it’s
true.” The poorer our quarters, the more
clearly we perceive that our hearts should be Christ’s home on earth.
(letter to Maria von Wedemeyer, December 1, 1943)
So often, during Advent, my hands are so full of
activities and stuff (you know what I mean), I have no room for the hope of the
Christ child. I am reminded once more to
stop juggling and set the non-essentials aside.
There are far more non-essentials than I would think!
My heart was warmed to hear that one of our more affluent
families have made the decision to take a holiday trip—and that will be their
Christmas gift to one another, aside from the gifts they are intentionally
giving to the less fortunate. Instead of
scarves, ties, sweaters and wii games, they will be creating memories by
spending Time with one another, good time, quality time. They are blessed to be able to do this. And I rejoice for them, as much as I rejoice
for those who cannot afford to take a holiday time—because as Bonhoeffer
models, one can even be in prison (or anywhere in between) and still realize
that love comes down at Christmas, in and through relationship. Isn’t that the grand message of the
season?
God comes incarnationally—in the flesh, in human
form, not in a generalized “Gee, isn’t Life wonderful,” but “I care enough
about creation to be present, to offer hope in all circumstances, because love
is the answer.” God gets our attention
through a baby born to poor parents in an off-the-map place, and if God can do
that, all things are possible through the power of love. Not the warm fuzzy feelings attached, but
love as action, love as presence, love in doing, not thinking.
I am reminded of taking kids to The Heifer Project
headquarters in Arkansas. Sometimes,
part of the experience of the mission trip is to spend the night in the Global
Village. Each youth is randomly assigned
to a group—the wealthy, the middle class, the poor, the homeless. Each has resources appropriate to their ‘class’
for an outdoors, overnight survival exercise.
It never fails that the most generous, the most sharing groups are the
poor, and then the middle class. Perhaps
it’s because less gets in the way of their sharing and caring. I can see Bonhoeffer smiling, with Jesus’ arm
around him even.
I’ve gone on longer than usual for this blog space,
but I hope you’ll take time to read Jesus’ words in Luke 6:20-26. They are poignant for incarnational living:
Then
he looked up at his disciples and said:
Blessed are you who are poor,
For
yours is the kingdom of God.
Blessed
are you who are hungry now,
For
you will be filled.
Blessed
are you who weep now,
For
you will laugh.
Blessed
are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame
you on account of the Son of Man.
Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in
heaven; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets.
But
woe to you who are rich,
For
you have received your consolation.
Woe
to you who are full now,
For you will be hungry.
Woe
to you who are laughing now,
For
you will mourn and weep.
Woe
to you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the
false prophets.
You still have time to make the most of this incarnational,
relational season. I don’t know about
you, but I’m going to empty my hands a bit more today.
At least that’s the view from my all too cluttered
desk!
Grace and joy,
Julie
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