Embracing Restoration

Embracing Restoration

Micah 5:2-5a; Luke 1:39-55[1]

After all my “confessions” this Advent season, some of you may be convinced that I am a cross between Ebenezer Scrooge and the Grinch! You may have wondered, “Is there anything about Christmas he does like?” Well, you’re in for a treat today, because that’s exactly what I want to talk about—what I do like about the way we celebrate Christmas. The one aspect of how we as a people “celebrate Christmas” that I like is the fact that we make it a time for family. We scheme with our families how to surprise other family members with just the right presents. We gather with families around the table and the Christmas tree. We worship with our families at the altars of our churches. It is a time for reunion and reconciliation, for embracing and entertaining, for sharing and supporting one another.

I guess I have to add another “confession”—I haven’t always enjoyed this dimension of Christmas. Truth be told, it’s one of the parts of the way we “celebrate Christmas” that many people dread! For many people, Christmas becomes a time when you have to endure your relatives, whether you want to or not. It becomes a time of fighting and re-opening old wounds, a time for throwing discretion to the wind and behaving in ways that are embarrassing and offensive—toward the members of our own family! Christmas is a time when the gaping holes in the fabric of our “family ties” become painfully apparent. It is a time when we desperately need restoration and healing in those most basic human relationships.

Advent is a time when we focus our attention on God’s work in this broken world. It is a time of waiting in silence, a time of looking for the salvation that God has promised, and a time of singing for joy over God’s presence among us. I think it’s tragic that in the midst of all this Gospel talk, many people in our society find themselves more depressed than at any other time of the year. I would venture to say that one of the main reasons for that is that it is a time when we become painfully aware how broken this world is—particularly our own families.

One of the themes in the lessons for this Fourth Sunday of Advent is that it is a time to celebrate the work of restoration God is carrying out in the human family—the whole human family. Take the lesson from Micah. At first glance, one might think that the prophet Micah was no different from many of his contemporaries. In virtually the same breath that he speaks about the coming of the Prince of Peace who will restore and reunite the people, it seems that he looks forward to the domination and oppression of their enemies! And yet, the prophet Micah may very well be an exception to the pattern of looking for restoration for Israel in terms of punishment for their enemies.[2] Like Isaiah, the future Micah envisions is one of “beating swords into ploughshares and spears into pruning hooks” (Mic. 4:1-4). And in our lesson for today, that restoration includes the reunion of the divided Jewish family. Think of it—Micah looked forward to the coming one who would heal the bitter enmity between Judah and the tribes of Israel and bring them together in one family for the first time in 200 years!

We think of reunions as happy and joyful, but the reality is that sometimes they are, and sometimes they aren’t. In Mary’s Magnificat, we hear that one of the ways God’s work of restoration would come about is through the “Great Reversal”: the proud humbled, the powerful pulled down from their thrones, those who are stuffed will go away empty-handed, while those who are disempowered will be lifted up and those who are hungry will be filled with good things (Luke 1:51-53). [3] Mary describes the overturning of the current system of consumption and oppression and violence by the norms of God’s kingdom: mercy, justice, and love.[4] I think many of us saw a little of that in action yesterday as we distributed food to needy families.

There’s just no way to avoid the fact that there is a barb in the good news that God is working to restore the human family. That barb is this—those among us who flourish on the backs of others, those who get rich by the poverty of the many, those who wield power through violence of any kind will be impoverished, overthrown, and overturned.[5] And yet, even here there is good news—the restoration that God promises is one in which some of us will suffer loss, but in the end we will all gain immeasurably more than we lose. The future Micah and Mary looked forward to is a vision of the restoration of the whole human family. They saw in the birth of the coming one the establishment of the justice that makes it possible for all people to thrive, to reach their God-given potential, to experience the joy and the vibrancy that God intends for all creation.

Advent is a time for waiting in anticipation. It is a time of looking for the fulfillment that promised salvation, and a time of singing for joy over God’s presence in our midst. It is also a time to embrace the restoration and healing God has promised to the whole human family in our families. Tread lightly this year, instead of taking up the challenge to engage in bickering. Do whatever you need to show a little extra consideration to your family—after all, we’re all stressed out during this time of the year. And after all we’ve been doing, many of us are frankly exhausted. Try to say the kind word, do the kind thing; extend your arms to the one who aggravates you and embrace the restoration that God is bringing to us all! Now that’s the way to celebrate Christmas!

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[1] © 2009 Alan Brehm. A sermon preached by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 12/20/09 at First Presbyterian Church, Dickinson, TX and at A Community of the Servant-Savior Presbyterian Church, Houston, TX.

[2] Randall J. Pannell, in “The Politics of the Messiah,” Perspectives in Religious Studies (1988): 131-143 argues that it’s possible that Micah actually contrasts the Prince of Peace who will bring restoration to the people with the way in which Israel would seek it’s own restoration—through violent means. For a broader look at the issue in Hebrew Scripture, see Hans Walter Wolff, “Swords into Ploughshares: Misuse of a Word of Prophecy?,” Currents in Theology and Mission 12 (June, 1985): 133-147. He states plainly (p. 137), “Biblical faith decisively rejects all that has to do with war.”

[3] Cf. the article by my friend and fellow seminarian Ruth Ann Foster, “Mary’s Hymn of Praise in Luke 1:46-55,” Review and Expositor 100 (2003):451-463. She says (p. 458), “Mary acknowledges God's mercy and love for the lowly and a radical reversal of normal human values in the coming messianic kingdom.”

[4] Cf. Hans Küng, The Christian Challenge: A Shortened Version of On Being A Christian, 89: in the light of the Kingdom of God, “all existing systems, all ordinances, institutions, structures and indeed all differences between the mighty and the powerless, between rich and poor, appear from the very beginning to be relatively unimportant: the norms of this kingdom must be applied even now.”

[5] Cf. Foster, “Mary’s Hymn,” 458: “even though Mary has been often ‘regarded as the comforter of the disturbed .. . she [or at least her song] is far more accurately the disturber of the comfortable’” (quoting Doris Donnelly). Cf. similarly Letty M. Russell, “God’s Great Reversal,” The Christian Century (Nov. 20, 1991): 1089. She says, “God's great reversal may come too close to home as we hear that Christmas is about lifting up the ‘lowly,’ filling ‘the hungry with good things’ and ‘sending the rich away empty.’ Yet it is by joining in the their desire and work for deliverance that we find out the meaning of the good news of great joy.”

Love’s Embrace

Ruth 3:1-18; 4:9-17[1]

In our discussion of what it means to embrace your life—the life you have—we’ve talked about a lot of facets of life. I think, however, that perhaps the single most difficult facet of our lives is our relationship with those closest to us—our friends, our family, our children, our husbands and wives. There’s a lot we can say about loving others that can in the end sound pretty superficial and even worn-out. The plain truth of the matter is that our experience of loving the people in our lives is a difficult one.

I guess that’s one reason why our culture romanticizes human love to such an extreme. When you look at what our songs and poetry, what our stories and films have to say about loving another person, it sounds like something straight out of a fairy tale! If you were to go strictly by most of what we hear about love, then love is the most natural thing in the world to fall into, love is something that makes you completely happy, love makes your life a bed of roses; and of course, if that’s not your experience with love then you simply haven’t found “the one.”[2]

That’s not the perspective of the 2006 film The Painted Veil. It’s a story set in early 20^th century England about the very difficult path two people take to finally learn how to love one another. [3] Walter is a young doctor who has been assigned a position in Shanghai; he’s so infatuated with Kitty he’s truly blind to everything that might tell him not to become involved with her. Nevertheless he asks her to marry him. Kitty is a spoiled rich girl desperate to escape her family; she doesn’t really love Walter, nor can she imagine ever loving him, but she’s willing to use him as a ticket to another life.

It’s no surprise that when they arrive in Shanghai Walter immerses himself in his work and Kitty has an affair. She is desperately in love with Charles, but he has used her just as she used Walter. When Walter finds out about the affair, volunteers to go to a remote village suffering from a Cholera epidemic, he almost literally drags Kitty with him—mostly out of revenge. But the situation of living and working with people in extreme need changes both of them. As Walter selflessly engages in the work of teaching the Chinese villagers procedures to stem the epidemic, Kitty volunteers to work with the nuns at the local convent who are caring for the village orphans. In the process, something strange and wonderful happens—Walter and Kitty actually learn to see one another in a completely different way than they had before. And they begin to love one another, despite the past and despite their “incompatibilities.” They learn that loving another person has very little to do with feeling love-struck; what it is about is accepting and caring about another human being.[4]

The Bible teaches us this about love in many ways— through it’s practical teachings about love, through the stories of God’s love for a wayward people, and most importantly through the life of Jesus, who gives himself completely for the sake of us all. I think perhaps one of the more memorable stories about love is the story of Ruth and Boaz. Ruth is a “foreigner” who married an Israelite living abroad. When he dies, her mother-in-law, Naomi, resolves to return to Israel and the life of destitution that she believes to be her fate. But Ruth is devoted to her mother-in-law Naomi, and so she returns to Israel. If you read between the lines, it would seem that Naomi begins to play the the matchmaker. She suggests that Ruth glean in the fields of their relative, Boaz. Though it’s not obvious, it would seem that the attention Boaz pays Ruth suggest that he falls for her.[5] But for whatever reason, while Boaz keeps tabs on her, he also keeps his distance. Naomi (perhaps sensing the attraction) urges Ruth to “make the first move.” There’s a lot we don’t know for sure about the scene at the threshing floor, but what we do know is that two people are alone together at night. But perhaps the fact that their motivation is not simply one of desire, but rather one of concern for others—for Naomi and Ruth’s safety and livelihood—there’s not a hint of criticism in the story.[6] The end result is that they marry and build a home and a life and raise a family that leads to the birth of King David!

I like this story for a number of reasons. For one, it doesn’t cover over the realities of two people coming together. Also, the story of Ruth teaches us that love is about devotion to another person—no matter what.[7] And I like it because Ruth and Boaz’s love is about raising a family and making a life together—which is what human love has been about for ages, not about fairy tales and fantasies where all our dreams come true!

What we don’t know is how Ruth and Boaz learned to love each other over the long term, through thick and thin, for better or for worse. But I would be willing to bet that they had their share of ups and downs—just like we all do.[8] Because that’s how we learn to love another person—by going through the difficulties together. As one observer put it, that’s part of the journey toward love that is stronger and richer.[9]

It’s the very difficulty of loving another person that makes it so valuable to us. None of us is suited to loving—we have to learn to love in the give and take of everyday life. That’s when love becomes for us a token of God’s presence among us—lifting us up, giving us hope, comforting us in our sorrow, encouraging us when we’re discourages.[10] That’s how our love for one another becomes a mirror of God’s love. That’s when our love becomes “sparks from the great flame of love that is God”[11]

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[1] © 2008 Alan Brehm. A sermon preached by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 11/16/08 at First Presbyterian Church, Dickinson, TX and at A Community of the Servant-Savior Presbyterian Church, Houston, TX.

[2] Cf. Thomas Moore, Care of the Soul, 78, where he talks about “our love of love.”

[3] See Frederic and Mary Ann Brussat, “Review of The Painted Veil”; accessed at http://www.spiritualityandpractice.com/films/films.php?id=16386.

[4] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, The Spirit of Life, 255: it means combining, “respect for the other person’s freedom” to be an individual “with deep affection for him or her as a person.”

[5] See Danna Nolan Fewell and David M. Gunn, “Boaz, Pillar of Society: Measures of Worth in the Book of Ruth,” Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 45 (1989): 45-59.

[6] Cf. Lillian Klein, “Engaging Biblical Women,” Bible and Interpretation, 2003; accessed at http://www.bibleinterp.com/articles/KLein_Biblical_Women.htm .

[7] See Michael S. Moore, “Ruth the Moabite and the Blessing of Foreigners,” The Catholic Biblical Quarterly 60 (April 1998): 217 where he calls the Book of Ruth a “powerful statement about the power of human love” as well as “a powerful theological statement about a God who keeps his promises, a creator who takes great delight in blessing his multifaceted creation, a Redeemer who will use any means—any people, tradition or person—to accomplish his gracious will.”

[8] Cf. Moore, Care of the Soul, 89, where he talks about love’s “shadows.”

[9] John Welwood, in Love and Awakening, says it this way: “I don't know any couples who have not suffered this fall from grace at some point, losing touch with the original bright presence that first drew them together. Yet this is not a problem when we understand it as an integral part of a couple's journey toward greater wholeness and a richer, more seasoned kind of love.” Quoted at http://www.spiritualityandpractice.com/books/excerpts.php?id=11768 .

[10] Cf. Moore, Care of the Soul, 95: “There is no way toward divine love except through the discovery of human intimacy and community.”

[11] Fulton Sheen, From the Angel’s Blackboard; quoted at http://www.spiritualityandpractice.com/practices/practices.php?id=19&g=1 .

Risking Family

Genesis 17:1-8, 15-22[1]

Families. What can we say about them? It seems we either love them or hate them. Given the necessities of biology, everybody has some kind of family somewhere. Of course, that doesn’t mean that everybody wants to have anything to do with their family. In a day and time when the word “family” is glibly thrown out as a political campaign strategy, I think it’s high time we admit the truth—we’re all pretty ambiguous about our families. I guess what you’d have to say about families is: “you can’t live with ‘em, you can’t live without ‘em!”

Thomas Moore has an interesting twist on the family in Care of the Soul. He talks about family in terms of the risks each of us takes in order to engage in family life. Fathers take a risk—you don’t just automatically become a father by procreation! The process of becoming a father is a long and sometimes precarious journey.[2] Motherhood is also a risk—the role of a mother is wonderful but also painful, because in the end you have to let your children go down the paths that could very well destroy them, but it’s the only way for them to find their own individuality.[3] Children face risks: sons have to grow up with an imperfect father, have to set out on their own journey to find out what it means to be a man with their own flaws and foibles that probably resemble those of their fathers.[4] Daughters have to find a way to be a woman in their own right, without the voice of their mothers telling them what they should do differently![5]

It’s interesting that the “first family” of the Bible, the family of Abraham and Sarah, has so much “exposure.” All their dirty laundry is on display in the stories of Genesis. First there’s Abraham, the “prototype” of the kind of faith that God desires from us all—and we see him passing off his wife as his sister in order to save his own skin—not once, but twice (Gen. 12:10-20; 20:1-18)!?![6] Then he sends one son out into the desert to die (Gen. 21:9-14) and takes another son up a mountain to “sacrifice” (Gen. 22:1-13)!?! Sounds like a family I’m not so sure I’d want to be part of. Sounds like a family just like yours and mine!

With a father like Abraham, it’s no wonder Isaac follows in his daddy’s footsteps and puts Rebekah at risk in the same way (Gen. 26:6-11). And in turn, his two sons, Esau and Jacob, wind up estranged from each other over their inheritance (Gen. 27:19-29).[7] Jacob successfully “cheats” his brother Esau and leaves home—only to be cheated in return by his uncle into spending 14 years of indentured labor (Gen. 29:12-30)![8] Then Jacob’s own sons are so resentful of the favored son Joseph that they throw him in a pit, initially planning to kill him, but then they “only” sell him into slavery (Gen. 37:12-28)![9] Sounds like the kind of family we could very well do without![10] And yet, this is the family of promise, the family through whom God determines to bless all the families of the earth (Gen. 12:3)!

Thomas Moore reminds us that one of the most important lessons we can all learn about family is that in a very real sense we cannot choose our family—we’re stuck with them. It’s a lesson most of us have a hard time learning, because we spend our lives in the futile effort to escape the influence of our families—after all, in one respect our families are programmed into our very DNA! But the frantic attempt to escape the influence of your family is a little like trying to cut off a part of your own self! You never can quite accomplish it, and all you’re doing is hurting yourself in the process.

A healthier, happier, less stressful approach is to simply accept our families as they are—warts and all! In a very real sense, we can only be “comfortable in our own skin” when we come to terms with the fact that, for good or for ill, your family is the only one you’ve got! In fact, one of the greatest obstacles most people face in accepting themselves is accepting their family. The sooner you can accept that they are yourfamily, the sooner you’ll be on the road to wholeness.

Although all families have their shortcomings, it is those very challenges they present to us that make our lives rich and meaningful. [11] Like the fires that purify and refine precious metals, the disappointments and heartaches of the family becomes the very means by which we can forge a life for ourselves that is beautiful and precious and fulfilling.

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[1] © 2008 Alan Brehm. A sermon preached by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 10/19/08 at First Presbyterian Church, Dickinson, TX and at A Community of the Servant-Savior Presbyterian Church, Houston, TX.

[2] Thomas Moore, Care of the Soul, 34-39.

[3] Moore, Care of the Soul, 40-49.

[4] Moore, Care of the Soul, 34-35.

[5] Moore Care of the Soul, 43-44, 47.

[6] Of course, we should recognize Abraham’s great faith in other respects of his life, but one wonders where it was when he was so afraid for his own life that he put Sarah’s at risk! We are used to acknowledging Sarah’s “lack” of faith in that she laughed when God promised her a son; perhaps it is time to recognize that both Sarah and Abraham showed both faith and frailty in the course of their life’s journey.

[7] Gordon J. Wenham Genesis 16–50, 214–16, points out that the Genesis narrative is surprisingly restrained in that it does not condemn any one member of this tragic family for their role in it.

[8] Wenham, Genesis 16–50, 237–38, suggests that Jacob’s subsequent experiences seem to fit poetic justice for his own previous deceptions.

[9] Wenham, Genesis 16–50, 351, points to Jacob’s favoritism as causing a complete breakdown in his sons’ relationship with Joseph! Of course, Joseph’s actually recounting his dreams to his brothers suggests that his own selfish absorption must have contributed toward the problem; cf. Wenham, 359-60.

[10] Cf. David L. Peterson, “Genesis and Family Values” Journal of Biblical Literature 124 (2005):14, where he says (or perhaps understates?), “The final chapters of Genesis describe a family in disarray.”

[11] Moore, Care of the Soul, 26, reminds us that “to some extent all families are dysfunctional”! See further, ibid., 27-32.