| Postpartum Christianity |
"Postpartum Christianity"
Luke 2:21-40
January 13, 2008
By now most of us are getting down to the last Christmas celebration...
we have probably unwrapped the last present. The tree here in the
sanctuary has been taken down and the advent candles stored until the
next season of advent. At our home, the angel was demoted before
2007 was ended and carefully wrapped in tissue paper... joining the
other ornaments. We’ve thrown the tree out the back door to be recycled
as a shelter for the birds and swept up the dust pan full of dropped
needles. If the cats had not stolen the baby Jesus years ago, it too would
have been tucked away with the camels and sheep. Some of us have
even dealt with returning the clothes that didn't fit or the toys that have
already broken or the “whatever it is” that Aunt Mable sent and would
never be used anyway.
It's over - that once a year breakdown in the world's routine. Another
week or two and we will have forgotten who gave us what gifts. The
smiles and the good feelings shown toward complete strangers will
gradually be replaced by hesitant actions of mistrust. And, I imagine, I
will stop letting cars in front of me when traffic is congested. After all,
peace and goodwill toward all has a limited shelf life.
We have experienced another Christmas - another time where we
anticipated the birth of the Christ Child and now we begin to say - “What
next?” It’s hard to maintain the level of excitement that exists at
Christmas. The buildup of candles and carols is replaced by the reality
of the ordinary. We no longer have multi-colored, dangling, shiny
ornaments to reflect the enthusiasm for our faith. The objects of worship
have essentially been refined to the essence of worship - which is
celebrating our faith in that which cannot be seen.
A dose of reality always seems to hit people after a birth. I remember
the emotional high of anticipating the birth of both my sons: looking for
all the needed baby things to have in place before their arrival: painting
the baby room and laying new carpet in it... stopping every little bit in that
last trimester to feel the kicks against their mother's womb... making all
sorts of plans for their lives and promises to myself to devote vast
quantities of time to their nurture.
Then it was time and I was able to experience a flush of emotions as
Sue and I shared time in the labor room and then the delivery room
together. To hear my children’s first cries was such a thrill that all the
frustrations and worries of the previous nine months virtually vanished.
Each time it was hours after their respective births until I could calm
down enough to finally stop looking at that precious gift of life and close
my eyes for a needed break.
And, each time the peak experience came to an end as the reality of life
set in: a need to return to a normal work schedule... middle of the night
feedings... diaper changes... cleaning up after being spit on... you get
the idea. I suppose I was experiencing the male version of post-partum
depression.
I would imagine that Mary and Joseph also experienced some major
changes in their lives after the birth of their first child - changes that all
parents have to make. If you are a parent you have your own unique
perspective of birth. I would also imagine each of you had your own
unique response to reality after the newness had worn off.
New birth affects everyone who encounters it and the birth of the Christ
child seems to have the most transforming effect of all. I think that
contrary to what some would have you believe the birth of Jesus indeed
has a different effect for everyone. The Bible seems to bear that out.
Witness Simeon, who had waited for the Messiah for years and when he
saw the child face-to-face was ready to die. He had accomplished his
goal in life. Simply to see the Christ one time was all he wanted or
needed. It was enough for him to be in the presence of the baby Jesus,
and to know that indeed salvation was possible.
Then there was Anna, a prophetess who was over a hundred years old,
and one who had also spent most of her life waiting for the Messiah.
Her response, however, was to look to the birth not as an end, but as a
beginning. She began to immediately share the good news with others
and looked to the future - which was the redemption of Jerusalem.
Prior to that momentous occasion of birth, Anna had lived a life of
fasting and prayer. But after the infant Jesus was presented for
consecration, Anna moved into an active role of proclaiming the news of
the Messiah's long awaited arrival to others. A new phase of life began
for her.
The question this morning becomes obvious. What does the birth of the
Christ mean for you? What have you been waiting for?
We are all touched a little differently when we encounter Jesus.
Expectations are either met and we look for nothing more. Or, new
expectations are birthed and allowed to be expressed. Let me suggest
to you, that each of us encounters the birth of Christ within us in a
different way and each person's experience is as valid as the other's. It
is what we do when reality sets in, that sets us apart. When the
ornaments and the tinsel are no longer around to keep our attention how
do we celebrate and share what Christ means in our lives?
How you live as a postpartum Christian can perhaps be the truest test of
faith.
Simeon was excited about his encounter with the Christ Child, as well he
should have been. It was something he had longed for, planned for,
prayed for. But, his response implies: that's all there is - a glimpse of
Jesus and you can be done with life. His experience centered with
himself and left him with... what?
Anna, too, saw the Child, that she had longed for, planned for, prayed
for. But, rather than life being over for her, the birth became a new
beginning. She began to tell everyone who would listen about the
possibilities for the future - because of this child. Her actions became
an active response to the encounter with Christ. Where the angel told
the good news before, Anna now became the Evangel.
I don’t want to imply that either response is better than the other. Each
person was at a different point in a journey that we all are traveling on.
Each person reacted out of faith. But, I have to wonder... if we stop at the
birth, then what meaning does the life hold for us?
Maybe the answer isn't that easy for us. We haven't seen with our eyes
and touched with our hand, as the disciple Thomas was overheard to
say. Must be nice to be so sure of your first encounter with Jesus
Christ. Simeon and Anna had the luxury of seeing and touching the God
made flesh. Theirs was not a spiritual reality but a physical, concrete
reality.
My first encounter with the Christ Child wasn't an earth shattering
experience. I can't point to a certain event and say that, “Yes, I
experienced Christ for the first time on a certain date.” My encounter
comes out of a gradual introduction to Jesus Christ through family and
church and life experiences. It came out of God’s persistence in my life.
We rehearse the Christmas story... we listen to the words of the amazing
birth that means God is with us... we sing the Hosannas and ignite the
symbols of the light of the world... but what does it really mean for us.
How can we avoid the back-to-reality, after-the-birth, postpartum
Christianity blues?
One advantage that we have, over Simeon and Anna, is knowing the
whole story... not just the beginning. What the Christ Child did as Christ
the Man, is where, who-we-can-become, shines apparent. To be aware
of the life is to be able to give meaning to the birth. There was love
expressed in that life. There was acceptance expressed in that life.
There was compassion and healing.... To be aware of the life gives
validation to the birth. But even that is only a partial experience. There is
more of the story that we are privileged to be apart of.
We are privy to the pain, witness to the extreme expression of sacrifice
as the nails connect flesh to wood. Our own bodies throb in agony and
sense the passion of death. Full circle at last and the birth becomes
more understandable and yet, still, we would misunderstand if we
stopped there. To know the story of the birth... to know the story of the
cross... to know even the journey in between... is to know life and death.
But, we don’t need the Christ to teach us that - we can intimately
experience the joys and pains of our humanness moment by moment
without a mentor. That takes no skill.
What we need is an experience of God. What we need is an experience
of God that transcends both life and death. For that we do need Jesus...
all of Jesus. The knowledge we crave is the knowledge that there is
more than this moment.
Simeon and Anna, while blessed to have experienced the physical
presence of God, still did not have the whole story. We do.
Ultimately, it’s not just about the birth, it’s not just about the life, it’s not
even just about the death. When everything is tucked away - the
ornaments wrapped so carefully - what we have left, what we know is,
that nothing stands in the way of God reaching out to us. We know that
not even death on a cross can separate us from the love of God. To
know the birth, life, and death of Jesus means little without knowing the
resurrection.
However, to know the resurrection is to give meaning to the birth, life,
and death of Christ - and our own birth, life, and death. To know the
resurrection is to experience the power of God in our lives. Power that
transforms. Power that keeps us excited about the possibilities of life,
rather than mired in hopeless thoughts of death. Power expressed
through a love that doesn’t give up.
Christmas, would be nothing more than an unpacking and repacking of
ornaments... a mere moment of getting and giving... which ultimately
holds little meaning, unless… unless… we recognize the complete story
of God’s love for us.
There is good news in today’s scripture. For Simeon, the encounter with
Christ was a long anticipated ending. For Anna... and for us, it can be
just the beginning.
AMEN.
Luke 2:21-40
January 13, 2008
By now most of us are getting down to the last Christmas celebration...
we have probably unwrapped the last present. The tree here in the
sanctuary has been taken down and the advent candles stored until the
next season of advent. At our home, the angel was demoted before
2007 was ended and carefully wrapped in tissue paper... joining the
other ornaments. We’ve thrown the tree out the back door to be recycled
as a shelter for the birds and swept up the dust pan full of dropped
needles. If the cats had not stolen the baby Jesus years ago, it too would
have been tucked away with the camels and sheep. Some of us have
even dealt with returning the clothes that didn't fit or the toys that have
already broken or the “whatever it is” that Aunt Mable sent and would
never be used anyway.
It's over - that once a year breakdown in the world's routine. Another
week or two and we will have forgotten who gave us what gifts. The
smiles and the good feelings shown toward complete strangers will
gradually be replaced by hesitant actions of mistrust. And, I imagine, I
will stop letting cars in front of me when traffic is congested. After all,
peace and goodwill toward all has a limited shelf life.
We have experienced another Christmas - another time where we
anticipated the birth of the Christ Child and now we begin to say - “What
next?” It’s hard to maintain the level of excitement that exists at
Christmas. The buildup of candles and carols is replaced by the reality
of the ordinary. We no longer have multi-colored, dangling, shiny
ornaments to reflect the enthusiasm for our faith. The objects of worship
have essentially been refined to the essence of worship - which is
celebrating our faith in that which cannot be seen.
A dose of reality always seems to hit people after a birth. I remember
the emotional high of anticipating the birth of both my sons: looking for
all the needed baby things to have in place before their arrival: painting
the baby room and laying new carpet in it... stopping every little bit in that
last trimester to feel the kicks against their mother's womb... making all
sorts of plans for their lives and promises to myself to devote vast
quantities of time to their nurture.
Then it was time and I was able to experience a flush of emotions as
Sue and I shared time in the labor room and then the delivery room
together. To hear my children’s first cries was such a thrill that all the
frustrations and worries of the previous nine months virtually vanished.
Each time it was hours after their respective births until I could calm
down enough to finally stop looking at that precious gift of life and close
my eyes for a needed break.
And, each time the peak experience came to an end as the reality of life
set in: a need to return to a normal work schedule... middle of the night
feedings... diaper changes... cleaning up after being spit on... you get
the idea. I suppose I was experiencing the male version of post-partum
depression.
I would imagine that Mary and Joseph also experienced some major
changes in their lives after the birth of their first child - changes that all
parents have to make. If you are a parent you have your own unique
perspective of birth. I would also imagine each of you had your own
unique response to reality after the newness had worn off.
New birth affects everyone who encounters it and the birth of the Christ
child seems to have the most transforming effect of all. I think that
contrary to what some would have you believe the birth of Jesus indeed
has a different effect for everyone. The Bible seems to bear that out.
Witness Simeon, who had waited for the Messiah for years and when he
saw the child face-to-face was ready to die. He had accomplished his
goal in life. Simply to see the Christ one time was all he wanted or
needed. It was enough for him to be in the presence of the baby Jesus,
and to know that indeed salvation was possible.
Then there was Anna, a prophetess who was over a hundred years old,
and one who had also spent most of her life waiting for the Messiah.
Her response, however, was to look to the birth not as an end, but as a
beginning. She began to immediately share the good news with others
and looked to the future - which was the redemption of Jerusalem.
Prior to that momentous occasion of birth, Anna had lived a life of
fasting and prayer. But after the infant Jesus was presented for
consecration, Anna moved into an active role of proclaiming the news of
the Messiah's long awaited arrival to others. A new phase of life began
for her.
The question this morning becomes obvious. What does the birth of the
Christ mean for you? What have you been waiting for?
We are all touched a little differently when we encounter Jesus.
Expectations are either met and we look for nothing more. Or, new
expectations are birthed and allowed to be expressed. Let me suggest
to you, that each of us encounters the birth of Christ within us in a
different way and each person's experience is as valid as the other's. It
is what we do when reality sets in, that sets us apart. When the
ornaments and the tinsel are no longer around to keep our attention how
do we celebrate and share what Christ means in our lives?
How you live as a postpartum Christian can perhaps be the truest test of
faith.
Simeon was excited about his encounter with the Christ Child, as well he
should have been. It was something he had longed for, planned for,
prayed for. But, his response implies: that's all there is - a glimpse of
Jesus and you can be done with life. His experience centered with
himself and left him with... what?
Anna, too, saw the Child, that she had longed for, planned for, prayed
for. But, rather than life being over for her, the birth became a new
beginning. She began to tell everyone who would listen about the
possibilities for the future - because of this child. Her actions became
an active response to the encounter with Christ. Where the angel told
the good news before, Anna now became the Evangel.
I don’t want to imply that either response is better than the other. Each
person was at a different point in a journey that we all are traveling on.
Each person reacted out of faith. But, I have to wonder... if we stop at the
birth, then what meaning does the life hold for us?
Maybe the answer isn't that easy for us. We haven't seen with our eyes
and touched with our hand, as the disciple Thomas was overheard to
say. Must be nice to be so sure of your first encounter with Jesus
Christ. Simeon and Anna had the luxury of seeing and touching the God
made flesh. Theirs was not a spiritual reality but a physical, concrete
reality.
My first encounter with the Christ Child wasn't an earth shattering
experience. I can't point to a certain event and say that, “Yes, I
experienced Christ for the first time on a certain date.” My encounter
comes out of a gradual introduction to Jesus Christ through family and
church and life experiences. It came out of God’s persistence in my life.
We rehearse the Christmas story... we listen to the words of the amazing
birth that means God is with us... we sing the Hosannas and ignite the
symbols of the light of the world... but what does it really mean for us.
How can we avoid the back-to-reality, after-the-birth, postpartum
Christianity blues?
One advantage that we have, over Simeon and Anna, is knowing the
whole story... not just the beginning. What the Christ Child did as Christ
the Man, is where, who-we-can-become, shines apparent. To be aware
of the life is to be able to give meaning to the birth. There was love
expressed in that life. There was acceptance expressed in that life.
There was compassion and healing.... To be aware of the life gives
validation to the birth. But even that is only a partial experience. There is
more of the story that we are privileged to be apart of.
We are privy to the pain, witness to the extreme expression of sacrifice
as the nails connect flesh to wood. Our own bodies throb in agony and
sense the passion of death. Full circle at last and the birth becomes
more understandable and yet, still, we would misunderstand if we
stopped there. To know the story of the birth... to know the story of the
cross... to know even the journey in between... is to know life and death.
But, we don’t need the Christ to teach us that - we can intimately
experience the joys and pains of our humanness moment by moment
without a mentor. That takes no skill.
What we need is an experience of God. What we need is an experience
of God that transcends both life and death. For that we do need Jesus...
all of Jesus. The knowledge we crave is the knowledge that there is
more than this moment.
Simeon and Anna, while blessed to have experienced the physical
presence of God, still did not have the whole story. We do.
Ultimately, it’s not just about the birth, it’s not just about the life, it’s not
even just about the death. When everything is tucked away - the
ornaments wrapped so carefully - what we have left, what we know is,
that nothing stands in the way of God reaching out to us. We know that
not even death on a cross can separate us from the love of God. To
know the birth, life, and death of Jesus means little without knowing the
resurrection.
However, to know the resurrection is to give meaning to the birth, life,
and death of Christ - and our own birth, life, and death. To know the
resurrection is to experience the power of God in our lives. Power that
transforms. Power that keeps us excited about the possibilities of life,
rather than mired in hopeless thoughts of death. Power expressed
through a love that doesn’t give up.
Christmas, would be nothing more than an unpacking and repacking of
ornaments... a mere moment of getting and giving... which ultimately
holds little meaning, unless… unless… we recognize the complete story
of God’s love for us.
There is good news in today’s scripture. For Simeon, the encounter with
Christ was a long anticipated ending. For Anna... and for us, it can be
just the beginning.
AMEN.
DeWitt United Methodist Church
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