Bailing out Christmas 2008
Nov. 30, 2008, 1st Sunday of Advent
Isaiah 45:8; 63:19 1 Corinthians 1:3-9 Mark 13: 33-37
To the churched and unchurched[1]
gathered in a temple not built by human hands[2]
First reading from the prophet Isaiah
Drop down dew, ye heavens, from above, and let the clouds rain down the Just One.[3] Oh, that You, oh Lord, would tear the heavens open and come down, as the mountains quake before You.
Nov. 30, 2008, 1st Sunday of Advent
Isaiah 45:8; 63:19 1 Corinthians 1:3-9 Mark 13: 33-37
To the churched and unchurched[1]
gathered in a temple not built by human hands[2]
First reading from the prophet Isaiah
Drop down dew, ye heavens, from above, and let the clouds rain down the Just One.[3] Oh, that You, oh Lord, would tear the heavens open and come down, as the mountains quake before You.
Alleluia, alleluia.
A reading from the holy Gospel according to Mark 13:33-37
Glory to you, Lord.
Jesus said to his disciples: “Be watchful! Be alert! You do not know when the time will come. It is like a man traveling abroad. He leaves home and places his servants in charge, each with his own work, and orders the gatekeeper to be on the watch. Watch, therefore; you do not know when the Lord of the house is coming, whether in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or in the morning. May he not come suddenly and find you sleeping. What I say to you, I say to all: Watch!”
The Gospel of the Lord.
Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ
Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ
Introduction
The church’s new year
Today we exit Ordinary Time and enter into the Extraordinary Time of Advent in preparation for Christmas 2008. Today is New Years Day in the church. Today we go from liturgical cycle A (which takes the gospel readings from Matthew) to cycle B (which takes the readings from Mark). Today we also change the color of the liturgical vestments from the green of Ordinary Time to purple – the liturgical color for penance. (In some places, blue vestments instead of purple are worn in honor of mother Mary and baby-boy Jesus.) The purple is a leftover from pre-Vatican II days when Advent, like Lent, was strictly a penitential season which frowned upon all partying, gift-giving and decorating before the 24th of December. In this new day after Vatican II, Advent is now declared to be “a season of joyful expectation. “
How is it possible that a season, declared penitential for centuries, is now suddenly declared to be “a season of joyful expectation”? It’s not really a matter of either or: either a penitential spirit or joyful expectation. Rather it is a mix of both. Let the first part of Advent be imbued with a somber, thoughtful and prayerful spirit, as are the scriptural readings at Mass these days. Then let the second part which begins with the Novena of Christmas on the 17th of December be a season of joyful expectation. Then let the partying and gift-giving begin.
How is it possible that a season, declared penitential for centuries, is now suddenly declared to be “a season of joyful expectation”? It’s not really a matter of either or: either a penitential spirit or joyful expectation. Rather it is a mix of both. Let the first part of Advent be imbued with a somber, thoughtful and prayerful spirit, as are the scriptural readings at Mass these days. Then let the second part which begins with the Novena of Christmas on the 17th of December be a season of joyful expectation. Then let the partying and gift-giving begin.
The darkness of December 2008
Here it is the 30th of November, 2008. In this hemisphere, winter begins on the 21st of December which will be the 4th Sunday of Advent this year. December 21st is the shortest day of the year, having only nine hours of light and fifteen long hours of darkness. The darkness of winter always magnifies all our worries and fears, which are reduced to size by a bright summer day. And the cold of winter always intensifies our aches and pains, which are soothed by the kind kiss of the summer sun.
The physical darkness of winter is compounded these days by the psychological darkness caused by the never-ending wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, and by the threat of terrorism hanging over our heads 24/7. Added to all that is the present economic meltdown which is bringing this old year of 2008 to a very dismal close. People are worried about their 401(k) s.[4] Some economists are telling us we’re at the beginning of a depression like the Great Depression of the 1930s.
For some the darkness of winter and the gloom of the economy are overshadowed at this time of the rolling year by some deep personal fear, suffering or loss. Some, for example, have received a chilling verdict from their doctor. Some have been plunged into an inconsolable grief by a sudden and senseless tragedy. Still others grieve over the loss of a pet which loved them unconditionally as no human being ever loved them, and which they, in turn, loved as much as they loved any family member. And then there are those who grieve over the recent loss of a beloved spouse of 30, 40, 50 years, and who now feel that half of themselves is gone. You hear it said and sung these days, “It’s the jolliest time of the year.” I always swim upstream on that one. For a good number of people it’s also the saddest time of the year.
The physical darkness of winter is compounded these days by the psychological darkness caused by the never-ending wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, and by the threat of terrorism hanging over our heads 24/7. Added to all that is the present economic meltdown which is bringing this old year of 2008 to a very dismal close. People are worried about their 401(k) s.[4] Some economists are telling us we’re at the beginning of a depression like the Great Depression of the 1930s.
For some the darkness of winter and the gloom of the economy are overshadowed at this time of the rolling year by some deep personal fear, suffering or loss. Some, for example, have received a chilling verdict from their doctor. Some have been plunged into an inconsolable grief by a sudden and senseless tragedy. Still others grieve over the loss of a pet which loved them unconditionally as no human being ever loved them, and which they, in turn, loved as much as they loved any family member. And then there are those who grieve over the recent loss of a beloved spouse of 30, 40, 50 years, and who now feel that half of themselves is gone. You hear it said and sung these days, “It’s the jolliest time of the year.” I always swim upstream on that one. For a good number of people it’s also the saddest time of the year.
Lamp- lighting time for Christians and Jews
No wonder the human family, in the darkness of the human situation lights lamps with a kind of vengeance at this time of the rolling year. Today, the 30th of November, 2008, the first Sunday of Advent, the Christian community lights the first of the four candles on the Advent wreath. Each week we light another candle to dispel the darkness (particularly intense this year) and to grow the light. Christmas is our Feast of Lights.
This year on 22nd of December, 2008, the Jewish community lights the first of the eight candles on their menorah candelabra, as they begin to celebrate Hanukkah. In Hebrew Hanukkah simply means rededication. The feast commemorates the purification of the temple in Jerusalem and its rededication, after the Greek tyrant Antiochus Epiphanes desecrated it in 161 B. C. On the site of the altar of holocausts he had built a pagan altar and offered a pagan sacrifice to the Greek god Zeus Olympios. The prophet Daniel and St. Matthew refer to this profanation as "the horrible abomination standing in the holy place.” (Dn 9:27; Mt 24:15) Three years later, Judas Maccabeus purified the sanctuary, erected a new altar, and undertook to rededicate the temple.
According to a story told and retold in the Jewish community no consecrated olive oil could be found to keep the temple menorah burning through the eight days of rededication. The temple menorah is the seven branch candelabra prescribed by Moses as temple furniture (Exodus 25:31-32). After diligently scouring the temple, Judas Maccabeus finally found a small jug of oil still with the high priest's seal intact, and therefore not contaminated by the enemy. But there wasn’t enough oil in the jug to last through the eight days of rededication.
Then a miracle happened! God caused the little amount of oil in the jug to continue supplying fuel for the temple menorah throughout the long rite of rededication. In gratitude, Judas Maccabeus, his brothers and all people of Israel decided that the rededication of the temple should be commemorated yearly for eight days with joy and thanksgiving (I Mc 4:59; II Mc 10:5) St. John is referring to Hanukkah when he writes, “The time came to celebrate the Feast of Dedication in Jerusalem, and it was winter.” (Jn 10:22) Through eight days the Jewish community lights one candle after the other. Hanukkah[5] is their Feast of Lights.
This year on 22nd of December, 2008, the Jewish community lights the first of the eight candles on their menorah candelabra, as they begin to celebrate Hanukkah. In Hebrew Hanukkah simply means rededication. The feast commemorates the purification of the temple in Jerusalem and its rededication, after the Greek tyrant Antiochus Epiphanes desecrated it in 161 B. C. On the site of the altar of holocausts he had built a pagan altar and offered a pagan sacrifice to the Greek god Zeus Olympios. The prophet Daniel and St. Matthew refer to this profanation as "the horrible abomination standing in the holy place.” (Dn 9:27; Mt 24:15) Three years later, Judas Maccabeus purified the sanctuary, erected a new altar, and undertook to rededicate the temple.
According to a story told and retold in the Jewish community no consecrated olive oil could be found to keep the temple menorah burning through the eight days of rededication. The temple menorah is the seven branch candelabra prescribed by Moses as temple furniture (Exodus 25:31-32). After diligently scouring the temple, Judas Maccabeus finally found a small jug of oil still with the high priest's seal intact, and therefore not contaminated by the enemy. But there wasn’t enough oil in the jug to last through the eight days of rededication.
Then a miracle happened! God caused the little amount of oil in the jug to continue supplying fuel for the temple menorah throughout the long rite of rededication. In gratitude, Judas Maccabeus, his brothers and all people of Israel decided that the rededication of the temple should be commemorated yearly for eight days with joy and thanksgiving (I Mc 4:59; II Mc 10:5) St. John is referring to Hanukkah when he writes, “The time came to celebrate the Feast of Dedication in Jerusalem, and it was winter.” (Jn 10:22) Through eight days the Jewish community lights one candle after the other. Hanukkah[5] is their Feast of Lights.
Hanukah gone astray
Johannes Buxtorf II (1599-1664), a Protestant Hebrew scholar, who perhaps was tainted with a good dab of anti-Semitism, often criticized the way the Jewish community celebrated their feast days. Writing of Hanukkah he describes how they strayed far from the feast’s original inspiration, and overlaid it with superstition and pettiness. He writes,
They celebrate Hanukkah more by eating, drinking and having fun than by giving
thanks to God for their victory over the enemy. They prepare a seven-branch
menorah and then light one light each day until the eighth night. The lights
are not allowed to burn all night long. While they are burning no one is allowed
to do any work in the house. The menorah itself must stand on the right side of
the door, not less than ten paces from the ground, and not higher than twenty.
The Jews often hold subtle and futile discussions on how long the lights should
burn, who should light them, whether or not it is permitted to light one light
with the other, and similar things.
Buxtorf concludes his criticism of their observance of their Feast of Lights, saying,
“They are very fussy about the outer light but are not concerned about the great
darkness which abides in their hearts!”[6] The feast celebrating the rededication of the temple was
itself in need of a rededication!
Christmas gone astray
Christians should talk! Our Christmas, like Buxtorf’s Hanukkah, has also strayed. It also is in need of a rededication to its original inspiration -- a Babe born in Bethlehem, wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger. (Lk 2:10-12) Many of us feel in our hearts of hearts that our observance of Christmas has become an overkill and needs a rededication. The overkill is about a series of Christmas parties to throw, a number of pricey gifts to buy, a long list of cards to write, an expensive holiday trip to take and sumptuous holiday tables to set. The overkill is about a whole list of stuff which entraps the credit-card holder and makes Christmas not only a very jolly time of the year but also a very expensive one, which many can’t afford. This is particularly true these days, as a great economical meltdown is bringing the curtains down on the last hours of 2008.
The meltdown could be the providentially appointed moment to turn ourselves and those around us, especially our kids, to a rededication of Christmas. It could actually prove to be a blessing; it could help lead us and our kids out of Christmas as an orgy and brings us back to Bethlehem where a Babe is born, wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger. At the end of the day, Christmas as an orgy (which begins even before Thanksgiving Day itself!) leaves us feeling empty and even depressed as we defrock the tree on Dec. 26 and throw it out on the curb.
The meltdown could be the providentially appointed moment to turn ourselves and those around us, especially our kids, to a rededication of Christmas. It could actually prove to be a blessing; it could help lead us and our kids out of Christmas as an orgy and brings us back to Bethlehem where a Babe is born, wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger. At the end of the day, Christmas as an orgy (which begins even before Thanksgiving Day itself!) leaves us feeling empty and even depressed as we defrock the tree on Dec. 26 and throw it out on the curb.
Thanksgiving on course
Last Thursday the nation celebrated its most cherished feast --Thanksgiving. While Hanukkah and Christmas have gone astray, Thanksgiving, on the other hand, has always been on course. It has always remained faithful to its original and simple inspiration: giving thanks at the family table. Thanksgiving still sends us over the river and through the woods to grandma’s house, loaded down with no other gift than ourselves. It still gathers sons and daughter around the paternal table to give thanks not for hi-tech toys but for the basic blessings of life: family and friends to embrace us, a roof over our heads to shelter us, a warm bed to sleep in and food aplenty to eat. Thanksgiving remains true even to the traditional menu itself: turkey (whether you like turkey or not), cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie and sweet potatoes.
A story to bailout Christmas 2008
As the curtain goes down on the dark days of 2008, people are worried about a depression like that of the 1930s, and they feel constrained now to tighten their belts for the lean Christmas and new year ahead. Top congressional hearings are being held at this moment to determine which sectors of the economy should or should not be bailed out with $700,000,000,000 of the people’s money.[7]
This is the season for telling stories. Here is a story to bail us and our kids out of these dark days and the lean Christmas ahead. It was written by a Presbyterian missionary lady, and it appeared in a Presbyterian magazine a good quarter of a century ago. Its poignancy makes it easy to recall every holiday season.
This is the season for telling stories. Here is a story to bail us and our kids out of these dark days and the lean Christmas ahead. It was written by a Presbyterian missionary lady, and it appeared in a Presbyterian magazine a good quarter of a century ago. Its poignancy makes it easy to recall every holiday season.
Once I was in a remote village of India and the congregation was gathered in a
schoolroom for worship. From one wall a faded picture of Ghandi smiled down
benignly. There was no minister. The school teacher read the Scriptures and led
in the long, long Tamil hymns. At the end of the service there was a stir in the
rear of the room and a young woman slipped forward -- a girl she was really - -
thin and shy. She carried a tiny baby, surely not more than a day old. As she
approached the battered desk that served as an altar table, she reached into the
folds of her sari and drew out a single egg. With utmost care she laid it on the
table and bowed her head. "For the birth of her child," whispered the teacher to
me. "It's her thank-offering to God."
An egg! Not a coin, but a life-sustaining egg! The diet of the Indian villager is notoriously deficient in protein. This woman needs this egg, I thought. In the economy of her village, this one egg costs a woman like her about three hours on the road or in the fields. Even if she is lucky enough to own hens, she sells their few eggs and buys rice to fill the stomachs of her family. A single egg -- a worthy and
sacrificial offering.
Conclusion
A solitary egg!
A solitary egg!
That missionary lady continued,
So this holiday season, as we prepare our 18 pound turkey, stuffing, sweet
potatoes, peas, cranberry sauce and mincemeat pie at Thanksgiving, as we festoon
the trees with tinsel and lights or wearily shop for gifts or scowl at the
assault of canned Christmas carols on our ears, [as we walk through the shopping
malls with crests fallen because of the economic meltdown], I shall remember a
solitary egg [and I shall count my blessings even in these hard times]. (A.D.
Magazine for Dec. 1974)
[1]] By the “the unchurched” is especially meant not those who have left the church but those whom the church has left!
[4] A 401(k) plan allows a worker to save for retirement while deferring income taxes on the saved money and earnings until withdrawal.
[5] While the temple menorah had seven candles, the Hanukkah menorah has nine. It has eight candles for the eight days of Rededication, and then it has a ninth candle -- a taller central candle called the Shamash. The central candle is used for profane purposes like lighting other lamps throughout the house or lighting the fire in the hearth. Israeli Jews call the nine-branch menorah a hanukkiah.
[6] Synagoga Judaica by Johannes Buxtorf II
[7] The 7 hundred billion dollar US Treasury bailout is called TARP: Troubled Assets Relief Program.
