HE PITCHED HIS TENT AMONGST US

The Very Rev Tracey Lind preached one of the best Christmas sermons I've come across in my life at Trinity Cathedral in Cleveland, Ohio.

The real symbol of Christmas is not the Christmas tree, Santa Claus, an angel, or even a star; no, the real symbol of Christmas is a newborn baby. Writing from a Nazi prison during World War II, Dietrich Bonhoeffer articulated this radical truth about Christmas. “We are talking about the birth of a child, not the revolutionary act of a strong man, not the breathtaking discovery of a sage, not the pious act of a saint.”
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The paradox of Christmas is that God chose to enter the world in the very form to which human beings are drawn, and yet in circumstances from which we tend to turn away. Jesus – Emmanuel – God with us was born as a homeless baby on a bed of straw in a cold and dirty stable, amid barn animals. His parents were poor and unwed, a teenage mother and her fiancé who were forced to travel far from home to register for taxes with an oppressive government. Then, after a brief but powerful ministry of preaching, teaching, and healing, at the age of thirty-three, he was condemned of treason and heresy, and executed as a criminal on a cross of wood. Our God’s coming into the world was like that of thousands of children born in similar circumstances every day; his ministry has been both an inspiration and a threat to people, institutions, governments, and yes, even churches throughout the ages; and his death has been repeated all too often in virtually every country on earth.
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As I stand among you tonight, I am mindful of those who, because of war, economic hardship or natural disaster, are forced to sleep in tents and under tarps around the world, and I know that the Risen Christ is dwelling among them. But I’m also aware of those who are intentionally pitching tents on public squares, sidewalks, parks, parking lots, and even church steps as part of what-has-come-to be- known-as the Occupy Movement; and I keep seeing the face of Jesus in that crowd.
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This fumbling, stumbling and sometimes bumbling coalition of young people, many of whom are graduating from college with enormous debt and limited job prospects, joining forces with the out-of-work middle-aged and out-of-luck elders, are doing their best to speak and act prophetically about the transformation they see as essential in today’s world.
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You see, when God wants an important thing done in this world or a wrong righted, God comes and sleeps beside us, sometimes as a new born child and sometimes as homeless adult. And then God waits to see how we respond.

Please read the entire sermon, especially the conclusion, which proclaims the gift of hope, the Good News that the Christ Incarnate dwells amongst us.

While growing up, I heard over and over in my Roman Catholic school religion classes that Easter, the feast of Christ's Resurrection, was the greatest feast in the church. All the children I knew, and I include myself, thought Christmas was the greatest feast, and I wonder if this idea of the children was not just about Santa and presents, but rather that they grasped, if only in a shadowy way, a truth that grown-ups miss. Once again, in my dotage, filled with awe and wonder, I've come to believe that the Incarnation/Nativity, the momentous event of God come down to be one of us, born a helpless babe, human, just like us, sharing our joys and sorrows, is the greatest feast of the Christian church. Without the Incarnation, none of the rest of the Jesus story, including the Resurrection, would have happened.

And I've run on about the Occupy movement probably to the point of boring some of you, and I'm not sure where the movement will go, but I believe the Christian churches ought to be a presence with the rag-tag groups who have pitched their tents around the country, because who knows but that they are God's angels, bearing messages we need to hear?

The lovely Nativity set is Raku pottery and belongs to Penelopepiscopal at One Cannot Have Too Large a Party.