Scripture: Matthew 1:1-17
Journal: What captures you most about the genealogy of Jesus? What do you notice? How does it speak to you?
Reflection:
By Christmas Eve, most of us find ourselves
very far from our true reasons for celebrating, reasons that are so eloquently
expressed in the processional of the Christmas Vigil in the Byzantine rite:
“Rejoice, Jerusalem! All you lovers of
Sion, share our festivities! On this day
the age-old bonds of Adam’s condemnation were broken, paradise was opened for
us, the serpent crushed, and the woman, whom he once deceived, lives now as
mother of the creator.”
Here, in just a few simple
words, is the essence of Christmas. It
is not merely the birth of Jesus we celebrate, although we recall it joyfully,
in song and story. The feast of the
Incarnation invites us to celebrate also Jesus’ death, resurrection, and coming
again in glory. It is our salvation
story, and all creation is invited to dance, sing, and feast. But we are so exhausted. How is it possible to bridge the gap between
our sorry reality and the glad, grateful recognition of the Incarnation as the
mainstay of our faith? We might begin by
acknowledging that if we have neglected the spiritual call of Advent for yet
another year, and have allowed ourselves to become thoroughly frazzled by
December 24, all is not lost. We are, in
fact, in very good shape for Christmas.
It is precisely because we
are weary, and poor in spirit, that God can touch us with hope. This is not an easy truth. It means that we accept our common lot, and
take up our share of the cross. It means
that we do not gloss over the evils we confront every day, both within
ourselves and without. Our sacrifices
may be great. But as the martyred
archbishop of El Salvador, Oscar Romero, once said, it is only the poor and
hungry, those who know they need someone to come on their behalf, who can
celebrate Christmas.
Tonight we are asked to
acknowledge that the world we have made is in darkness. We are asked to be attentive, and keep vigil
for the light of Christ. The readings
are not particularly comforting. Psalm
88, a lament which is also commonly read on Good Friday, is stark in its
appraisal: “For my soul is full of troubles, and my life draws near to Sheol,”
the underworld of death. The passage
from Acts asks us to consider that, just as Israel needed God to lead them out
of Egypt, so we need Christ to lead us out of our present slavery to sin. We, and our world, are broken. Even our homes have become places of physical
violence. It is only God, through Jesus
Christ, who can make us whole again.
The prophecy of Isaiah
allows us to imagine a time when God’s promise will be fulfilled, and we will
no longer be desolate, or forsaken, but found, and beloved of God. We find a note of hope also in the Gospel of
Matthew. In a long list of Jesus’
forbears, we find the whole range of humanity: not only God’s faithful, but
adulterers, murderers, rebels, conspirators, transgressors of all sorts, both
fearful and bold. And yet God’s purpose
is not thwarted. In Jesus Christ, God
turns even human dysfunction to the good.
The genealogy of Jesus
reveals that God chooses to work with us as we are, using our weaknesses, even
more than our strengths, to fulfill the divine purpose. At tonight’s vigil, in a world as cold and
cruel and unjust as it was at the time of Jesus’ birth in a stable, we desire
something better. And in desiring it, we
come to believe that it is possible. We
await its coming in hope. (Christmas Eve Vigil by Kathleen Norris)
Prayer
Closing
Prayer: God, thank you that you use ordinary, flawed
people to accomplish your purposes in this world. It gives me hope that somehow, someway, your
purposes can be accomplished in and through me as well. Amen.
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