Imagine the scene: middle school youth crowded around a
banner, coloring a giant red dragon that hovers over the edge of a castle. Then keep in mind their assignment is to
create the background for the Christmas pageant. The pastor is moving from room
to room, assisting the first graders with their Christmas carol, the older
children with their costume, then discovers this scene, bringing dragons into
the manger.
Here be dragons. It's one of my favorite
phrases, written on maps to indicate those areas as yet uncharted, unexplored,
and presumed dangerous. If we're honest,
it's the kind of thing that ought to be written on the cover of every Bible.
As far as I know, no dragons appear in the nativity of the
Christ directly. But they are not absent from Scripture, making appearances at
the very least in Job, Isaiah, Ezekiel, Sirach, and Revelation. There are
dragons in the neighborhood, even if they do not make a direct appearance in
the gospels.
But we might say, together with J.R.R. Tolkien, It
does not do to leave a live dragon out of your calculations, if you live near
him.
So what is the live dragon in the Christmas story? What do
these youth in their artistic wisdom have to teach us?
I am reminded that there is a good deal of myth in the birth
narratives of the Christ. There are many levels of complexity. Echoes of
ancient Scripture make it into the telling of the birth, with direct quotations
from Isaiah and other prophetic books (see Matthew 1:23, 2:6 and 2:15, for
example). But these echoes are made more complex by their journey through
multiple languages and cultures. As just one example, the word virgin in
Matthew 1:23 is an echo of the Greek translation of the Old Testament (the
Septuagint) rather than a direct translation of the Hebrew. So Jesus is born of
a virgin in Greek, but of a maiden in Hebrew.
This both matters and no longer matters. Mary is either or
both, just as the Scripture in Hebrew or Greek is still Scripture. But why, you
might ask? Well, for my money, I'll take a Scripture with an historical context
over a book fallen from the sky any day of the week. I like my ancient texts
flavored with history and complexity. They need to have been somewhere, handled
by someone, affected by things.
Only in this way are they Scripture. So if you come to the
Christ seeking answers like the wise men, you end up in the same place they
did: With an existential invitation to worship, enter into relationship, and
remain with the mystery. There's no tract to take home, a short little book
length synopsis with all the answers. Instead, the faith, inasmuch as we are to
carry it from generation to generation, or country to country, or planet to
planet, will develop and get worked out in community.
These are our dragons.
So how is this a Christmas letter? Well, this has been quite
a year. There's been enough in the news, in our lives, on the Twitters and the
Facebooks, to distract us from truly ancient texts. It's hard to lean into old
books when new RSS feeds arrive daily. But we are now in the moment when we
recognize that once again this Christ shapes time for us, brings us to the
marking of our weeks and our years. Christ forms the very map of how we live,
and does so in such a way that we can never explore it all.
Scripture is not to be read once and fully fathomed. It's a
text for a lifetime, to be read in a community of trust and hope that embraces
its complexity and contradictions, not in order to reject it, but to grow with
it.
I think that's the kind of faith community we are, or at
least the kind of faith community I hope to cultivate. And then that is who
Christ is among us also. Christ is for a lifetime, a Messiah to be met in a
community of trust and hope that embraces the complexity of having faith in
this Christ.
I don't know what you think of dragons, but let me encourage
you to consider that they live rather close to Christ. And every community that
lives close to Christ not only fears dragons less but becomes somewhat like the
dragons. The powers of this world, encountering real community in Christ, mark
the territory near the startling kingdom of God they discover, with the words,
"Here be dragons."
The best Christian communities are this polis, this kingdom,
this politics and alternative community, with scales hard and tempered enough
to take the heat, and a fire that burns in the belly, yet gentle enough to lie
down by the infant and rest.
Merry Christmas. If you're in the neighborhood, join us for Christmas Eve worship at 4:30 p.m. or 7 p.m. at Good Shepherd Lutheran Church. Dragons will be included in the calculations.
No comments:
Post a Comment