Last week I had a conversation with the pastors at my church about preaching from the lectionary. During that conversation, our senior pastor said something important that stuck with me: “Preaching from the lectionary makes you read the parts of scripture that are hard…the parts you don’t really want to deal with.” 

Advent, the season of waiting for the Light, ended on Christmas Eve as we retold the nativity story. We woke up the next morning to the wonderful chaos of the Christmas celebration… and we are still celebrating Christmas. Today is the 3rd day of Christmastide (otherwise known as the 12 days of Christmas), the season that lets us dive deeply into the miracle of Christ’s birth, the gift of God putting on skin to come live with us and within us.

The 3rd day of Christmas is also Childermas in the calendar of the church, the “children’s mass”. We don’t celebrate feast days the way our siblings in the Catholic church do, but they are reflected in our lectionary… and so today, our gospel lesson is about the Slaughter of the Innocents.

It seems a little on the nose that the Sunday I was asked to preach the text is about Herod ordering the murder of every boy in Jerusalem under 2 years of age.

Because, as a pediatric surgeon, I have personally witnessed the slaughter of children.

You don’t have to be a pediatric surgeon working in an urban hospital to witness the slaughter of children today.

The news is filled with images and stories of children dying from bombings in Gaza, Ukraine, Syria, and so many other places…Children dying from starvation and disease because food and medicine are being deliberately withheld…Children dying from gunshot wounds on beaches and in our cities. 

It’s overwhelming. 

It’s understandable that we just want to look away…to protect our tender hearts from this horror, from this darkness. 

What do you do with a Christmas text about something this horrible? 
And why is this part of the Christmas story? 

Today’s text reminds us that in the midst of Christmas lights, presents, and celebrations… there was, is, and will always be darkness in the world. But it doesn’t stop there. I think it also provides some guidance on what to do…how we are to bring light into the darkness.

Lament

Jesus wept. 

It’s not only the shortest verse in the Bible, it’s a directive for those of us who have chosen to follow Jesus. Like Rachel, like the mothers in Bethlehem, in the face of unthinkable tragedy, it’s not only ok that we mourn, it is important that we lament, that we embody our sorrow… that we weep, tear our clothes, cover ourselves with ashes. 

Like Rachel and the mothers in Bethlehem, we need to let our hearts be broken by that which breaks the heart of God. 

Be angry

Profound sorrow is often accompanied by anger, even if we try to (or have been taught to) suppress it.  Rebecca Solnit, who is one of my favorite philosophers and activists, quotes Rev. Dr. Renita J Weems who teaches that “rage is a form of prayer”.  It’s a form of prayer because rage is not primarily about the anger, it’s about the love and care that underlies that anger. 

So don’t worry if you feel rage with your sorrow… it’s holy.

Watch for the way opening

Today’s scripture lessons start by teaching us that in the face of unbearable sorrow we are to lament, weep, and even shake our fists at God in anger. But then, we need to let go, we need to “put our trust in YHWH’s unfailing love.” (from another of today’s readings, Isaiah 63:7-9)

When I say “let go”, let me be clear. I’m not talking about letting go of the grief – I’m talking about transforming it in a way that allows us to “watch for the way opening” as the Quakers say. 

The mothers in our story never stopped grieving. Each of them had waves of grief that were unrelenting, waves of grief that tumbled them in the surf of sorrow and then threw them to the ground. But as time went on they began to realize, like everyone who has experienced this kind of intense grief, that although the waves never stop, they begin to decrease in intensity and frequency. In the midst of grief there are moments where we can finally stand up without being knocked down… and in those moments sorrow can be transformed.

Joseph must have felt sorrow, too… along with tremendous anger. His fiancee became pregnant, but not by him. He had to obey a ruthless tyrant and take Mary to Jerusalem so Herod could know how many people to tax. And then, when they got there, it was so crowded there was no place to stay… 

And, yet… 

Joseph got up. 

Not once, not twice, but three times. 

He had three different dreams and each time the same thing happened…  

He had a dream not to divorce Mary… and “Joseph got up and did as the angel of God directed.”

He had a dream to escape with Mary and Jesus to Egypt… and “Joseph got up, awakened Jesus and Mary, and they left that night for Egypt.”

He had a dream to return to Israel with Jesus after the death of Herod… and “Joseph got up, awakened Jesus and Mary, and they returned to the land of Israel.”

The word in Greek that is translated as “dream” in Matthew is specific for a dream that is a clear message sent by God. This word is used only 21 times in the Bible, and only 6 times in the New Testament… all in the Gospel according to Matthew.  

Matthew makes it clear – God spoke to Joseph.

And Joseph listened, got up, and obeyed. 

“God is still speaking” is the slogan and the identity of the UCC…

We believe that God is still speaking to us in dreams, events, conversations, natural beauty, art, poetry, imagination… Sometimes it’s with a loud voice…urgent messages like the ones Joseph heard, but more often it’s a whisper, words that enter our awareness like a sacred secret.  As John C. Dorheur,  pastor and former President of the UCC explains “Sacred moments and new truth and inspired wisdom can come to us along many pathways. Some moments of insight are approached through disciplines we cultivate for that very purpose. Other epiphanies come utterly by surprise, the product less of our cultivation than of some unexpected inspiration that the universe conspires to create.

So I return to the questions I started with… 

What do you do with a Christmas text about something this horrible? 
And why is this part of the Christmas story? 

Today’s gospel reading reminds us that darkness has always been and will always be present in the world, that there are times that it will drop us to our knees in grief or fear. But it also gives us a glimpse about how to move through that darkness, to remember that Light was born into the world, a Light that shines in the darkness, a Light that darkness cannot overcome. (John 1:5).

We are to bear witness. 

When faced with unbearable tragedy, when we find ourselves in the throes of darkness, we are to bear witness, to not look away. As painful as it is, we are to let our hearts be broken by that which breaks the heart of God.

Ring the bells that still can ring,
forget your perfect offering,
there is a crack, a crack in everything
that’s how the light gets in.

Leonard CoheN

We are to lament (and not be surprised if we are angry). 

We are to embody our sorrow and feel rage at the injustice… honest emotions, felt deeply. 

We are to trust. 

Having faced the darkness, felt deep sorrow and anger, we then need to let go. We can’t let sorrow and anger consume us. Through faith we watch for moments that let us begin to transform our sorrow and our anger, looking for the Light that is able to shine through our brokenness …and then we are to take that Light into the world to do what Love would have us do.

May we be open to the many ways that God is still speaking – in our dreams, in the actions and words of angels among us, in quiet whispers and gentle touch, in birdsong and sunrise.

In the dark, in times of sorrow, fear, and anger may we watch for the way opening.

And then, like Joseph, may we listen, get up, and obey. 

Amen

Sermons are meant to be heard, more than read. If you want to listen, you can find this sermon towards the end of the December 28th service here (once it’s posted).