We live in the time between the times; in the "already, not yet." Jesus tells us that the Kingdom of God is here but also that it is coming. In acts of love and moments of worship, we experience the Kingdom of God here. But one only has to turn on the news or look around our own communities to see the hate, fear, and brokenness all around to know that the kingdom is also yet to come. We are especially reminded of this dual reality during Advent as we prepare to celebrate the birth of Christ and anticipate his triumphant return.
Last week, the president declared that "Christmas is back, bigger and better than ever before." Christmas never went anywhere because Christ never went anywhere. He is here. Always. And Christmas isn't about being "big." Father James Martin wrote in response to the president's comments that Christmas is about "littleness." Christ relinquished his throne and emptied himself to become one of us. He became little, literally. He became a small baby in a small corner of a busy city so crowded there was barely a space for him to be born. The King of Kings was born a repressed minority in a working class family. He grew up learning a "blue collar" trade when he was the Savior of all creation. This is Christmas. It's a wonderful, life- and world-changing story, but it's not a big, grand epic.
The reading today reminds us that we must also relinquish our pride and self in order to love others the way that Jesus did and the way the scriptures demand. Our culture rewards "big," whether that's in wealth, power, influence, popularity, or other ways. But just as Jesus became little, so must we. Jesus spent his time with "little" people and so should we. The writer of Hebrews reminds us of that here. We are told not to neglect the strangers, the prisoners, and those being tortured. We are told to let mutual love continue. We must not neglect those who are pushed to the margins for whatever reason. Jesus says that whatever we do for the least of these, we do for Him. As a special education teacher, I think about that often. We are called to love everyone no matter how much money they have, what language they speak, who they love, the color of their skin, or how they express themselves. Both in our personal conduct and our policies as a nation, we must not neglect our moral and Christ-given obligations to the prisoner, the immigrant, the tortured, the sick, the poor, the disabled, the different, the non-conventional, the losers, the freaks, the little. Our neighbors, all.
It is odd that one of the defining ideas of the holidays in Western culture is the "big family Christmas," when Jesus calls us to relinquish ourselves, become small, and spend our time with strangers on the margins of society. Let us not forget the gospel in our celebration of Christmas.
The scripture that precedes today's reading contrasts a mountain of fear with a mountain of joy, Mt. Zion, the kingdom of God. The verses immediately preceding today's say that "since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken let us...do these things." In order to love, we must reject fear.
Fear not. Rejoice. For the kingdom of God is here and the kingdom of God is coming. As we observe Advent, let us relinquish control of our lives. Let us loosen our grip and make space for Jesus. Like Bethlehem, our lives are crowded and busy. Let us relinquish the space for Jesus; both as this small baby whose birth we are preparing to celebrate and as the reigning King whose return we hope for.
