Readings for Third Sunday in Advent: IS 61:1-2A, 10-11; LK 1: 46-50; 53-54; I THES 5: 16-24; JN 1: 6-8, 19-28. http://usccb.org/bible/readings/121414.cfm
As I mentioned in my previous blog, I had an important spiritual experience last Sunday. It was the privilege of visiting the hermitage of St. Thomas Merton, the great Trappist mystic. It all happened in New Haven, Kentucky, just down the road from the Maker’s Mark distillery – far from any great urban centers and nearer to places with names like Bardstown, Paint Lick, and Gravel Switch. The experience inspired counter-cultural thoughts about Christmas. It made me struggle with the question (still unresolved for me): is it possible to once and for all break with this annual orgy of consumerism so counter to the gospel’s commitment to the poor?
At Fr. Louis’ Gethsemane, twenty of us sat in a circle in his living room absorbing the Life Force that still hovers over his simple cinderblock cabin. Trappist Brother Paul, the convener of the Merton Study Group responsible for the event, marvelously channeled “Louie’s” spirit by reading Brother Paul’s own poetic reflection on Matthew’s words, “Blessed are the poor in spirit.”
Paul’s thoughts connected nicely not only with Merton, but with this morning’s liturgy of the word on this third Sunday of Advent. After all, in today’s readings, John the Baptizer, his predecessor Isaiah, and Jesus’ own mother Mary reiterate the essential connection between Jesus’ gospel and standing in solidarity with the poor not only in spirit, but in actual fact. As Christmas approaches, the sentiments of the Baptizer, Isaiah and Mary suggest counter-cultural ways of commemorating the birth of the prophet from Nazareth. I wonder if I and my family are strong enough to entertain them.
For me those culturally eccentric suggestions began emerging when in the course of his remarks, Brother Paul recalled Sister Emily Dickinson’s words that reflect the mystical dimension of Matthew’s (and presumably Jesus’) understanding of both spiritual and physical poverty. As for the former, Brother Paul defined spiritual poverty as the emptiness reflected in Monk Dickinson’s words,
“I am nobody.
Who are you?
Are you nobody too?
. . . How dreary to be somebody.”
Those words almost paraphrase what John the Baptist says in today’s Gospel selection. When asked who he is, the one identified by Jesus as the greatest man who ever lived (MT 11:11) says in effect, I am a poor man in Emily Dickinson’s sense. I’m a nobody – merely a voice out of nowhere. I am “a voice crying out in the wilderness.” Only an empty vessel can be filled with the Holy Spirit.
So forget about me, John says, and focus on the one who is to come. His words will set you on fire that will sear everything in you that is not of the Spirit Jesus embodies – everything that separates you from your brothers and sisters, especially material wealth. That kind of self-denial and openness to Jesus’ Holy Spirit is the very definition of Matthew’s spiritual poverty.
And the specific message of the One to come? (And here’s where material poverty enters the picture.) Jesus announces the Divine Spirit’s preferential option for the actually poor and its rejection of the materially rich. That bias towards the actually poor is reflected in today’s first reading. As remembered by Luke in Jesus’ preview of his own career, the words of the prophet Isaiah read:
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” (LK 4: 16-22)
Here Jesus’ focus is real poverty and people subject to captivity and oppression.
As for the Holy Spirit’s rejection of the rich, that is clearly stated in the revolutionary poem attributed to Jesus’ mother and read today as our responsorial hymn. Mary describes her understanding of God with the following words:
“The Mighty One . . . has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.”
These are truly revolutionary words about dissolving the ideological mind-sets that unify the rich (“the thoughts of their hearts”), about overthrowing the powers that be (removing them from their thrones), about ending hunger, and rejecting wealth on principle.
The class consciousness reflected in this categorical rejection the rich as such reminds us that in the eyes of Jesus’ mother and (the record shows) of her son, there is something intrinsically wrong with any wealth that differentiates rich from poor. This implies that for Mary and Jesus, poverty is not the opposite of wealth. Rather, the opposite of wealth is God’s justice – a new order possible in this here and now, in this “year of the Lord’s favor,” as Jesus puts it. There, the rich will be necessarily unseated and the poor will have their fill.
If all of this is true – if God’s salvation means eliminating differences between rich and poor – what are we to do in this world of income gaps, torture, racism and militarized police? The question is particularly apt at this Christmas season. And Thomas Merton’s monastic spirit along with the testimony of his ascetic counterpart, John the Baptizer, implies answers. It suggests that at the Christmas season we might do well to:
- Generally withdraw our allegiance from the cultures of New York and Los Angeles and in spirit draw closer to Paint Lick, Gravel Switch – and Merton’s Gethsemane.
- Consciously simplify our Christmas celebration this year.
- On the feast commemorating the birth of a homeless child whose mother saw so clearly the opposition between wealth and justice, imitate John’s simple vestment (and that of the Trappists) by giving our gifts of clothes not to the already well-attired, but to the poor.
- Imagine what would happen if we took those gifts so carefully wrapped and placed beneath our tree and simply gave them away unopened and at random to poor people and their children as we meet them on the street.
- In the spirit of John the Baptizer, located far from Jerusalem’s temple, boycott church this Christmas, especially if your community (after distributing its de rigueur Christmas baskets) ignores Mary’s summons to social revolution in favor of “Christmas as usual.”
- Instead make up our own liturgy (around the Christmas tree) to replace the normal orgy of material gift-exchange. (More about this in a later posting.)
- Boycott entirely this year’s “white Christmas” and (in the light of Mike Brown, Eric Brown and Tamir Rice) celebrate Kwanzaa instead – telling our children why this year is different.
- Make a Christmas resolution to at last get serious about changing our lives in 2015 by beginning (or intensifying) the regular practice of prayer (or meditation) in the spirit of John the Baptist, Jesus, his mother and Thomas Merton.
- Realize that inevitably the cultivation of spiritual emptiness (“nobodiness”) resulting from such regular spiritual practice will lead us to serve others in a way that will address the seemingly intractable problems of poverty (both spiritual and material), hunger, captivity and oppression.
I’m not suggesting that any of this would be easy. Going counter-cultural, especially around an event like Christmas, involves a certain self-emptying. It involves detaching from cultural expectations (not to mention those of our children and other family members). In some sense, it means becoming nobody in front of those who expect us to do what everyone else is doing. In other words, going counter-cultural at Christmas conflicts with what Sister Emily calls our dreary attempts to be somebody.
In fact, the cultural pressures are so strong, that it might be impossible for most of us to withdraw cold-turkey from Christmas as we’ve known it. Still, if we desire to be change agents like John the Baptist, Isaiah, Mary, Jesus and Thomas Merton, we’ve got to start somewhere.
Do you have other ideas about where or how to start? If so, please share them. And what about that alternative Christmas celebration involving the whole family on Christmas morning? Can you help with any suggestions there?
4 thoughts on “(Sunday Homily) Towards a Counter-Cultural Christmas: Becoming Nobody”
I don’t disagree with you just to be disagreeable, Mike… it’s just that disagree on many things. Including Kwanzaa. I wouldn’t stop anyone from celebrating “Kwanzaa” if they prefer, including you, but Kwanzaa seems really contrived to me, and while there is such a thing as disinformation, the history seems to be that Maulenga Karenga tortured and abused his female followers. We are having enough problems with condoning torture — do we really have to celebrate Karenga’s mental problems?
Christmas is not all that much about Christmas (which in the end derives from pagan Winter Solstice observations). Christmas is a fun and joyous holiday to share, although a lot of Jewish fellow citizens get nasty competitive about Christmas (unnecessary, in my understanding of the celebration), and on the other hand an Irish coworker complained bitterly that Americans don’t understand — “Christmas is supposed to be 12 DAYS long, not just December 25th.” She and her husband felt that American Christmas /Yuletide celebrations are seriously deprived and miss the mark.
The basic Christian Golden Rule about loving your neighbor as yourself, and moving into forgiveness instead of revenge (because people are effing crazy, and few understand what they are actually doing) is something that I strongly support. I share those essential Christian principles with many people whose ancestry and heritage is African.
I have no desire to distance myself from Christianity, to reject common holidays shared by a majority of citizens regardless of their ethnic origin, or to set up exclusive ethnic holidays.
Christmas is a great time to potluck and have a party (although I do loathe those gift-exchange manuevers. All I ever ask for are socks, especially hiking socks, because those can be purchased at a reasonable price and everyone needs them).
A Berea classmate of Native American ancestry had a unique family tradition of celebrating Thanksgiving by going hiking. She said that way they didn’t overeat and incite diabetes, plus the trails were almost empty on that major holiday. I thought her family was onto something there — go for a long, beautiful walk on one of our shared public trails, instead of over-consuming. Celebrate being alive, and being able to get around freely and joyously.
See some typos above, sorry! I was in a hurry. Please excuse.
Hope I’m not oversharing! But here’s another Christmas holiday thought — birdwatching.
One of my older brothers has hawk’s eyes for anythings that moves. When we were elementary schoolchildren we were able to walk safely home via sidewalks. It was wonderful. We could observe the changing seasons and watch for animals. My older brother was always pointing out something along the way home — turtles, squirrels, birds, always something. Eventually he majored in biology. He knows all the Eastern birds and their names (popular, English, and Latin) plus what these birds eat and how they live.
My youngest daughter takes after her uncle. She also took up birdwatching a few years ago in California, and now knows more than he does! (I think they’re a bit competitive). Most birdwatching groups are older, retired people; but my daughter got her significant other into birdwatching, and then her S.O.’s family, and then other people she has visited with in the last few years.
Now I want to start up also, especially after seeing a huge bird near my home that resembled an eagle, two weeks ago! I have borrowed my older brother’s Peterson Field Guide to Birds East of the Rockies, and his old binoculars.
One of the most beautiful birds I’ve ever seen was an indigo bunting in the tomato fields at Dr. Bill Best’s in Berea. It took my breath away! I can’t describe the intensity of the color, but it was amazing!
Anyway, you and Peggy and your extended family might enjoy birdwatching at Christmas. It’s a way to socialize (through birding groups), to introduce your grandchildren to biology (instead of first learning biology from vats of formaldehyde-treated cat carcasses in middle school… how offputting). There is so much more to birdwatching than just the birds… you learn about the insects they live from, the varieties of trees and landscapes and climates. Merry Christmas, and may you see beautiful creation all around you!