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Here’s the annual repost of my take on Jesus’ birth at Bethlehem. If you have read my blog you know that I do not hold to the whole “Away In A Manger” story. That story really has nothing at all to do with 1st Century Palestinian life. I believe that this story is a better representation of that. Read with an open heart and mind. Perhaps, we may find a greater understanding of who Jesus was and our part in His family.

The caravan moved slowly up toward Jerusalem. It had been a long journey from Galilee through Samaria. We could not travel very fast because of the young, pregnant woman. Most of the caravan stopped in Jerusalem. We, however, had a few more miles to go to get to our ancestral home of Bethlehem.

We entered the town and located the home of Joseph’s cousin. Entering, we greeted those already gathered. “Shalom! Baruch hashem Adonai!” “Peace! Bless the name of the Lord!” Unpacking our donkeys, we noticed that there were a lot of people already present. It seems that the whole clan had answered Caesar’s demand that we return for this census. Joseph helped Mary up to the living quarters while I got fodder for the donkeys. As I turned to climb the stairs I saw Joseph gesturing angrily.

“No guest room?! My wife is going to give birth at any moment! You must make room for her and the child!”

“No, we cannot. There are too many people. We cannot have one room given to her alone.”

“Wait,” one of Joseph’s aunts said. “We can fix a place for her down below. There is plenty of fresh straw. And, we can put blankets down to help make her more comfortable.”

Mary, being young and new to the family looked at Joseph and nodded. She was already suspect, being pregnant already. She did not want to give the family any more reason to look down on her.

Evening came. Mary was having contractions every few minutes. One of the aunts acted as midwife. They made Mary as comfortable as possible.

Joseph was upstairs with the rest of the family. He was pacing the floor. One cousin scolded him, “Sit down and relax! Everything will be fine. This is not the first child ever born!”

But, everyone knew that many first pregnancies did not end well. Especially, when the mother was as young as Mary. In addition, both Joseph and Mary were anxious about the child. That strange man that had appeared nine months ago had said some very strange things about this child. As the birth drew near, the young parents wondered what kind of creature was about to enter their world.

It seemed as though Mary had been laboring for hours. With a final push the child arrived. With a cry, the child took his first breath. The midwife lifted the child and tied off the umbilicus.

“It’s a boy!”

Joseph gave a sigh of relief. The others began to pour bowls of wine and a party celebrating the birth of a first-born son began. They sang and danced and drank. When Mary was cleaned up and the child wrapped in clean cloths, Joseph was summoned to come down. He looked compassionately at Mary. She was so strong and brave…no longer a child. Joseph reached into the feeding trough in which his newborn son had been laid. He picked him up.

“My son, Yeshua!”

A little later I looked up and saw a small group of people entering the house. By the staves that they were carrying I could tell that they were shepherds.

“Who let this rabble in?” I thought. Shepherds were not usually welcome among respectable people. They walked over to where the child lay sleeping.

“We were out in the field tending the sheep. Suddenly, there was a great light in the sky! We feared that something was going to take our sheep and harm us! Then, we heard a voice saying that a child had been born…here…in Bethlehem. The voice said that this child is the Messiah who we have been waiting for!”

Another shepherd spoke up saying, “Then there was a great host praising God! They gave God glory and said that peace was to reign between God and those whom God favors!”

We poured bowls of wine for the shepherds and continued to celebrate throughout the night.

However, Mary had a puzzled look on her face. She said nothing!

May God Bless you all and Merry Christmas

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Today is Ash Wednesday. In the Christian liturgical calendar this is the beginning of forty days of fasting and reflection called Lent.
Now, I grew up in a nominal Christmas & Easter protestant home. Ash Wednesday and Lent weren’t even on our radar. I remember in elementary school seeing some of my classmates come to school with black stuff on their foreheads. When I asked, they said it was for Ash Wednesday. It was a Catholic thing. For us, Catholics were already weird. No meat on Fridays, church every Sunday, and now, dirty foreheads. Being protestant I had no clue what that was all about. But, I was glad that I didn’t have to do all of that. Sheesh!
It wasn’t really until I was a teen that I began to understand the history and tradition of this Lenten season. Even then, though, it wasn’t something that I observed. My whole time in the world of religious Fundagelicalism didn’t change that. Some years one of the leaders would offer a Lenten devotional for anyone who was moved to follow it.
Ash Wednesday and Lent simply weren’t important. They still aren’t in many traditions.
And, that’s sad.
We put so much effort into celebrating Christmas. I guess that’s understandable. Who doesn’t like a birthday party and babies? Amiright? Madison Ave. saw Christmas and great big silver and gold dollar signs danced in their heads. You can’t pitch a crucified guy like that. What are they gonna sell, Stigmata suits and crowns of thorns?
Now, however, I am part of a tradition that does embrace Lent. After all, the Resurrection we celebrate at the end of these 40 days is kinda important.
I wrote about this today in my journal. I mentioned Lent as something that we celebrate. Now, I know a lot of folks may push back on Lent being a celebration. “No, we OBSERVE Lent!” Yeah, I get it. Lent is supposed to be all about repenting and introspection. That doesn’t sound too celebratory. But, hear me out.
The Bible uses a lot of Wedding imagery when it comes to speaking about the Church. The Church is called the Bride of Christ. We read about the Wedding Feast of the Lamb. Lent, in a way, is the preparation of the Bride of Christ to meet her Bridegroom on Easter. During this time we spend time cleansing ourselves in preparation. Yeah, the theological word for that is repentance. But, that simply means to turn away from the grit and grime that collects on us throughout the year. There are other forms of penance that may be followed. But, the point is, to be clean and ready for the Bridegroom. We may prepare our gown and get our hair done and buy new shoes and all of that. That may entail following a Lenten devotional or fasting. Spiritual practices that prepare us, mind and heart, for the Resurrection of Messiah Jesus.
All of this is celebratory. We prepare, not with heaviness in our hearts, but with the joy of anticipation.
“He’s coming!” cries the watcher on the wall. “He’s coming and He’s bearing gifts for His beloved! Prepare the Bride!”
That’s what Ash Wednesday and Lent are really about.
Let’s take time to reflect on this in 2024 as we enter the Lenten season.
Anticipation.
Preparation.
Bated breath.
Coming Joy!

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“Hail to the Chief” is a song that the Marine Corps band plays when the President of the U.S. appears at certain functions. I guess that’s ok. Although, I really don’t like the tune. It might be better if, say, Metallica played it. I’m still waiting, though, to hear a song called, “Hail to the Senator,” or to the Congressperson. Maybe, “Hear Come Da Judge” for the Supremes? This isn’t a post about bad songs. It’s about why we Hail the Chief. It’s about why we view the President as the tippy-top point of the Power Pyramid. Not to provide an answer. Rather, to ask that question. Why do we look to that one person who holds the office of President to have the solutions to our problems? What is it within us that seems to need that One Person?

Since the 2016 election for president, there has been a lot of talk about authoritarianism in the U.S. and around the world. The last decade has seen an alarming rise in these so-called Strongmen to positions of world power. Pictures of Donald Trump with a Romanesque image of Jesus standing behind him. Other images of him with armor or weapons photoshopped in abound in certain circles. A golden image of him was actually created. He is still ‘worshiped’ in many circles as the only person who can ‘save’ America. Why?

I’ve read opinion stories, essays, blog posts, tweets, and Facebook posts from liberal and progressive folks who cry that conservatives are playing into the authoritarian hand of Trump and his people. “They’re fascists!” they scream. “This is exactly what happened in Italy when Il Duce came to power!” they warn. And I can’t see that they’re entirely wrong. Misguided nationalism mixed with religious overtones does seem to be a repeat of the same mistakes made in the last century. If you look closely, though, you can see this has been repeated century after century after century. Authoritarian strongmen have always been the populist choice. Someone who can grab the reins and Git ‘er Done!

Those who profess a more liberal point of view decry such action by conservatives. Yet, while they’re wringing their hands and crying foul, they are doing much the same. How many in our time look to President Biden for their deliverance from, say, student loan debt? (Hey, I could use some of that myself!) In the 2020 election the left was cheering just as loudly as their conservative counterparts did 4 years earlier. “Joe, Joe, he’s our man! If he can’t do it Nobody can!” I know that some of my readers may take exception to this. After all, progressives aren’t calling for armed rebellion. That’s true. It’s also not my point. My point is, no matter where we fall on the political spectrum, people tend to focus on that one person at the top who they hope can “save” them.

I’m calling this the Myth of the Strongman. If you Google that, you’ll find stuff about Hercules and maybe Samson. Different kind of strongman. It’s a myth. We may even go so far as to call it a complete falsehood. But more on that in a minute.

As I considered this another kind of societal need popped into my head. I don’t know if any of you have read René Girard’s scapegoat theory. In a nutshell, it claims that when a society finds itself in distress, they are likely to find one person or thing to focus their distress on and sacrifice it. All the pent-up emotion in the community is spent on that one act. As a result, the community fear or whatever negative emotion it was is assuaged and peace can return to them. I know, that’s way simplistic. But it is essentially accurate. We can again turn to the current news cycle to see who or what is bearing the burden of the community’s fear and wrath. The Woke left, LGBTQ+ folks, White, Christian Nationalists, teachers, politician, banks, the courts, etc., etc. ad nauseum. Someone or something must be responsible for whatever perceived mess we’re in. If we can banish these curses from the community, then peace will ensue and all will be well with the world. Of course, that’s just so much bullshit. But you get the gist.

In the Bible there are examples of both the Strongman myth and the Scapegoat. In the Law of Israel, the Torah, God told the people that on the Day of Atonement two goats would be selected. Lots would be cast. The goat that the lot for the Lord fell was sacrificed as a sin offering. For the goat that the lot fell as the scapegoat was sent alive into the wilderness because all the sins of Israel were laid on it. It had to be sent away from the community. In this way, sin was purged from the people.

Also, from the Hebrew Scripture there is the story of King Saul, the first king of Israel. As the story goes, Israel was governed by Judges who were raised up by God. These were people, men or women, on whom God’s Spirit empowered to lead and protect the community. Over time, though, the people of Israel decided that they should have a king, just like all the nations around them. They wanted a strongman who could lead them into battle and govern them. “Hey, God! Why can’t we be like everyone else? They have kings and everything. We want that, too!” God obliged them. But, as God did, he told the prophet and judge, Samuel, that the people had not reject him. They had rejected God as their source and power.

Both strongman and scapegoat have been with humans since the beginning. None are immune to it. Liberal, conservative, something in between. It seems that humanity is always looking for that which they can’t have. A savior of their own making. A victim to carry their sin away from the camp.

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Yesterday I had an experience that, truth be told, I would never have expected in a million years. That’s not hyperbole! This struck out of the blue without any warning. It left me with a crinkled brow wondering, WTF? Now, it may sound like some earth shattering event took place. Something that completely rocked my world. It wasn’t. Not by any stretch. It was a surprise, though. A scratch-your-head-and-you-head kind of surprise.
I received a piece of mail. Yeah, just an envelope with stuff inside. It was addressed to me. It looks like the sender used a home ink jet printer to address it. The return address simply stated, “Narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, few there be that find it.” That’s it. No real return address. No name. No nothing except some King James verse without any context. Inside of the envelope there was no note or letter. There was, again, nothing to identify the sender. There were simply 2 religious tracts produced by a guy named Jack Chick. Now, for those of you who don’t know, Jack Thomas Chick was a fundamentalist cartoonist who produced small comic-like tracts with some kind of pre-millenial gobbledy-gook. These were designed to instill fear into the reader that would force the reader to make a choice to follow Jesus and avoid whatever mean and hateful future awaited them.
At first, I was a bit miffed. Apparently, the sender has so much concern for my immortal soul that he/she was willing to look up my address and spend postage to send these. If you’re reading this, thanks for that. I guess. But, what initially ticked my off was that the person appears to be a coward hiding behind the veil on anonymity. Not afraid to perhaps offend someone. Yet, too afraid to stand up and be accountable.
That was my initial reaction. Then, I laughed and tossed the stuff in the recycle bin.
However, as I reflected on this I realized something.
This was me 50 years ago. Way back then, when Chick was still alive and producing his nonsense, I was that guy at the mall or at the park quietly walking up, and with shaking hands, handed Chick tracts to anyone who would accept them. Of course, we were supposed to then engage with those folks and explain to them the Four Spiritual Flaws or the Roamin’ Rode way to salvation. Because, we knew that unless these poor unbelieving heathens confessed their sins and recited the magic words that we told them to say, they would be lost to eternal flame and torment. We didn’t wait. We handed of our treasure and trusted that God would miraculously touch their hearts when they read about the coming apocalypse of the inevitable ending of their misguided life. Remember the “narrow way” thing? I put my heart into that kind of ministry. Either as a performer on stage, (again separated from real people), or dropping hate filled missives to people I thought were in the gravest of danger. I think that all of us who were caught up in that time felt like we were doing our job as true disciples of Christ. We were doing the work of the evangelist. We were the Watchmen on the wall warning the poor, ignorant, unsuspecting multitudes of the impending doom that was coming over the horizon. We were deadly serious about that work. We were also cowards who really never wanted to engage with people. So, we timidly passed out our tracts. Or, we hid them in library books so that someone might actually find it and read it. I know some that went to adult bookstores just to place the tracts in the merchandise that these ‘angels of hell’ were distributing.
So, I can sympathize with my anonymous friend. It’s hard to look someone in the eye and tell them that they are in danger of hell’s torment.
Or, it may be that, like me, this person has doubts about that. Is this truly the way things will work out? Will a Just and Righteous God actually condemn people, most of whom are completely unknowing about our God? Does this person feel a tinge of embarrassment about intruding on a complete stranger’s life? Maybe a bit of all of the above.
I have no ill feelings toward this person. I would, however, sit down for a cup of coffee and chat rather than deal with all of the cloak and dagger stuff. It’s always better to talk about things than to make untrue assumptions about others. At least, that’s what I’ve learned over the past 50 years.
If the person who sent these to me is reading this, I extend that invitation to engage. After all, didn’t Jesus tell us to love one another? I’m neither you enemy nor you mission field. If you don’t want to talk. That’s OK. I’ll continue to lift you to God in prayer. I will also ask you not to waste your postage on me. Chick tracts are by far the worst evangelistic tool ever invented. I won’t read them.

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