Wherever is Jesus? Where in the world is Jesus? Where on earth is he? Questions for the search team

A reflection on the loss of Jesus for the first Sunday of Christmas (year C). The gospel is from Luke 2:41-end when Joseph and Mary lost Jesus.

Crèche, December 2023, Evangelical Lutheran Christmas Church, Bethlehem. Photo: Munther Isaac

Today is the 1st Sunday of Christmas. Christmas is far from over as we revel in its meaning for us. Tradition has given us the 12 days of Christmas. Today is the 5th day.

What did my love give me on the 5th day? I’m sure someone will sing the answer.

What’s that all about? Maybe we can guess the significance of the 4 calling birds, the 3 French hens, the 2 turtle doves, and the partridge in the pear tree. Can we?

But what are those 5 gold rings, the four calling birds, the three French hens, the two turtle doves and the partridge in a pear tree?

We see the five rings flying on the Olympic flags, bringing separated nations to play games to bring the world together. Five gold rings, each one representing a continent, all of them representing the whole world. On this 5th day of Christmas, has my true love given me the whole world?

On this 5th day of Christmas our true love gives us this story of Jesus staying behind in Jerusalem and the worry he caused. It leaves us with the question “where in the world is Jesus?” “Where on earth is he?”

This story isn’t told in the other gospels. Luke uses the story to transition from the story of Jesus’ birth to the bigger story of Jesus’ ministry. Instead of staying with his parents for their journey home to Nazareth from the temple festival in Jerusalem Jesus stays behind.

The story gives us Jesus’ first words and they’re the words I suggest we focus on this morning – just in case we lose Jesus and struggle to find him.

We can perhaps all relate to the panic of losing someone in the crowd – so we can relate to what Mary and Joseph must have felt when they realised that Jesus was no longer with them. They thought he was walking back with their relatives or friends but he wasn’t to be found amongst them. They had to go back to Jerusalem to search for him. After three days they found him in the temple courts, among the teachers, listening to them and asking questions.

Remember, this is the beginning of Luke’s gospel. What’s at the beginning of the gospel should remind us of what’s at the end and fulfilment of the gospel, and vice versa. In the end there is another walk – from Jerusalem to Emmaus. Two people walking along the road, talking together about what had happened  – and joined by a third person who turns out to be Jesus. At the beginning of the gospel there were two walking together only because one had separated himself from them. In the fulfilment of the gospel there are three only because one had joined the two.

This is the gospel of Jesus being found in the gospel of the lost and found.

In both stories it takes three days to find Jesus, and three days is a hell of a long time to have lost someone. It was in the breaking of the bread that Jesus had become known to the two disciples in Emmaus. Subsequently he is found in his speech of just four words: “Peace be with you” (24:36) and recognised in his wounds. And this is where Jesus has been found in the church ever since: in the breaking of bread, wherever the greetings of peace are heard, and in the wounds he bravely bears These are the places to look for Jesus. This is where we find Jesus.

Now, that’s a lot to say about the end of his life, particularly as it’s the fifth day of Christmas and we’ve still got the nativity set up in our homes and minds. But already at Christmas we have a birth as well as a death and resurrection. One draws attention to the other in Luke’s telling of them.

Back to the beginning with Mary and Joseph being cross with Jesus. “Son, why have you treated us like this?” And Jesus’s reply to them, “Why were you searching for me? Didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house?” These are Jesus’ first words in the gospel of Luke. “Didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house?” But they didn’t know what he was saying to them.

This is the question I hope stays with us on this 5th day of Christmas, as we leave one secular year behind and are about to enter another – with fresh resolution to find Jesus wherever he may be – with a commitment to finding him and following him.
Where do we find Jesus?
Where do we find Jesus when we’ve lost him?
Where do we find Jesus when he’s stayed behind?
Why does he stay behind rather than going with us?

Mary and Joseph didn’t understand Jesus’ question. Luke tells us they didn’t understand what he was saying to them. Translators have struggled to capture Jesus’ meaning and have offered an alternative in the footnotes of the NIV – Did you not know I had to be about my Father’s business? But they thought he was in the family business – carpenters for the poor families of Nazareth – Joseph & Son.

But we don’t read the question “did you not know I had to be about my Father’s business? “. We read “Didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house?” The question is important because it is a question about where in the world Jesus can be found.

The translation in my Father’s house doesn’t quite seem right. Firstly it suggests the place Jesus can be found is so limited, and secondly it suggests Jesus can be found in a building and that leads us to churchianity rather than Christianity – with church buildings and the institution of church being the place to find Jesus when we know there are so many who love Jesus who’ve not joined a church.

Does this work as a question of Jesus for all his followers, for those who’ve lost him and those looking for him? “Did you not know you’d find me in what my Father is building?” Or, “did you not know you’d find me in whatever my Father is building?” Is that the guiding question? Is that the question to guide our search? As we build our resolution for the New Year, is that the clue to intensify our search for Jesus in what his father, our father, is building?

A couple of chapters further on in Luke’s gospel we come to what is called The Nazareth Manifesto when Jesus read in the synagogue in Nazareth from Isaiah the words, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free.” He commented afterwards, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”

The word manifesto  means showing. Here is Jesus showing what he is about. He is about his father’s business. He is in whatever his father is building. It is on that building site we will find him.

They’ve built a shrine for Jesus in Bethlehem. It shows baby Jesus lying in a pile of rubble in the devastation of his people while Mary, Joseph, the shepherds, the wise men and ourselves search for him. It’s on the side of the altar at Bethlehem’s Lutheran Church. The pastor there, Munther Isaac, a prominent Palestinian peacemaker says that he wants the world to know that is what Christmas looks like in Palestine these days.

Where in the world is Jesus? Where on earth is he? These questions going through the minds of Mary and Joseph go through our minds too.

This is where to find Jesus, in the devastation, wherever there is oppression and suffering, captivity and blindness. 

He’s in the news – in the good news for the poor.
He’s in the sharing of bread.
He’s in the making of peace.
He’s among the wounded.
That is where to find him.

We need look no further.

Egged on by Mary and Elizabeth, here I go again

Here I go again, egged on by Elizabeth, Mary and Micah – a reflection for Advent 4C. I don’t seem able to help myself. I can’t stop preaching that small is so beautiful, thanks to God who raises the lowly, graces the dis-graced and scatters the proud. Maybe it’s because I’ve been helping small churches this year.

Jump for Joy by Corby Eisbacher reproduced with permission

In these Sundays of Advent we come face to face with the faith of Israel. It is not the faith of all Israel. If everyone agreed in their faith Jesus would not have had to face such opposition. The faith we come face to face with in Advent is the faith that has been passed down the generations in our scriptures, and lived out by so many. The faith of Israel is about what we expect and what we live for.

It’s a faith which celebrates God’s opposition to the proud and Gods’ favour for those who are lowly, humble and poor in spirit.

So we have today’s readings, from the prophet Micah (5:2-5a) and Luke (1:39-55).

But first, a diversion. 

When the wise men went looking for the one born king of the Jews they stupidly went about it the wrong way. They went looking in Jerusalem. They did not know the rule of the kingdom of God that the first come last and the last come first. The capital wouldn’t cradle the Messiah. In fact, the capital did nothing other than scoff and plot against the one born king of the Jews. Their satnav took them to Jerusalem, nine miles wide of the mark, the cross on the map where Jesus was born.

It was the chief priests and scribes that directed Herod’s attention to Bethlehem as the place where the ruler to shepherd Israel would be born. It was Herod who sent the wise men to Bethlehem to search for the child.

That’s probably the way most of us would go. You could be excused for expecting to find what you’re looking for in the capital, the seat of power.

But the faith of Israel knows different, Micah expresses that prophetic faith, implicitly warning us not to look for leadership in the usual places but to expect the one to rule in Israel to come from one of the little clans of Judah, one of the little clans of Jews, even from Bethlehem of Ephrathah.

Ephrathah is the old name for Bethlehem. It means fruitfulness and Bethlehem means the house of bread. It was the place of fruitfulness that Micah directs us to – not to Jerusalem. The thing about fruitfulness is its abundance but the abundance is the fruit of tiny seed, scattered by the fall and the wind and pollinated by the humble bee. 

The faith of Israel is found in the tiny, the lowly and the humble. This is the faith that follows the rule of the kingdom of God.

We know where Jesus was born, but we don’t know where John was. All we know is that Mary set out to a “judean town in the hill country”, to Zechariah’s house, to greet her cousin Elizabeth. Luke doesn’t tell us the town’s name, but it sounds like it was a place off the beaten track and follows the rule that the kingdom of God is hidden in small places, in the smallest of clans and in the most barren of landscapes.

It is in these places that God grows a kingdom. From the smallest of clans, from the dust of the earth, from the least and the last God works wonders. This is the faith of Israel. This is the faith of Israel which even now leaves many Jews horrified by what is being done in the name of Israel as it uses its military might. Those Jews who are horrified need our prayers as they protest and resist what is going on. The faith in Israel they see in Netanyahu is not the faith of Israel they treasure in their scripture.

The faith in Israel that has stood the test of time is, in the words of the epistle of James (4:6) that God scatters the proud, but gives grace to the humble.

Elizabeth and Mary come together in our gospel reading. There aren’t many readings where we listen to women talking together. Together they represent the truth that God gives grace to the humble. It is written loud and clear in their body language. Their joy is undeniable.

Luke describes how both Zechariah and Elizabeth were both “getting on in years” (1:7) and that theirs was a childless marriage. In those days that was the woman’s fault and that explains the “disgrace” she felt among her people even though she had lived a blameless life. Now with the promise of a son Elizabeth knows God’s favour for the dis-graced. In her pregnant body God’s favour for the dis-graced, humiliated and humble is told yet again. Elizabeth looks at her body, feels her baby and says, “this is what the Lord has done for me when he looked favourably on me and took away the disgrace I have endured among my people.” (1:25).

Then Luke has us look at Mary’s body through the eyes of Elizabeth and we hear her praise. It comes from the heart of Israel’s songbook about how her soul magnifies the Lord. Mary calls herself a lowly woman. That was no mere figure of speech. Her lowliness wasn’t her mental attitude. It was  that she truly was a poor woman. She occupied a place of poverty and powerlessness in her society. She rejoices in the favour God has shown to her, the great things he had done for her, the way he lifts up the lowly and fills the hungry with good things, while all the time opposing the proud and powerful, scattering the proud and bringing down the powerful from their thrones.

This was the faith of Israel that Mary was repeating. This was the song Jesus heard when he was growing up: Mary magnifying the Lord, praising God for his favour for the lowly.

This is the faith of Israel. This is the faith of Jesus that we hear time and again in his preaching. This is the faith we follow, not taking the foolish way of the wise men to the powerhouses, but feeling our way to find God’s favour in the insignificant, humiliated, disgraced, lowly, poor and powerless.

Inasmuch as he did for Mary and Elizabeth he does for all his people. He lifts up the lowly. He gives grace to the disgraced, scattering the arrogant and proud and the disgraceful.

This is the faith of Israel. This is the faith of Mary and Elizabeth. This is the faith of Jesus. This is our faith, the faith of the church, though sometimes you’d hardly know it infected as we are with the imperial spirit which wants to see us bigger than we are. God grows a kingdom and works wonders from the smallest of clans, from the dust of the earth, from the least. That is the reason the lowly and humble rejoice and the proud and arrogant just scoff.

Note: The artwork is by Corby Eisbacher and reproduced with her permission. Prints are available from her www.artbycorby.etsy.com

The readings:

Micah 5:2-5a
But you, O Bethlehem of Ephrathah, who are one of the little clans of Judah, from you shall come forth for me one who is to rule in Israel, whose origin is from of old, from ancient days. Therefore he shall give them up until the time when she who is in labor has brought forth; then the rest of his kindred shall return to the people of Israel. And he shall stand and feed his flock in the strength of the Lord, in the majesty of the name of the Lord his God. And they shall live secure, for now he shall be great to the ends of the earth; and he shall be the one of peace. If the Assyrians come into our land and tread upon our soil, we will raise against them seven shepherds and eight installed as rulers.

Luke 1:39-55
39In those days Mary set out and went with haste to a Judean town in the hill country, 40where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. 41When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the child leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit 42and exclaimed with a loud cry, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. 43And why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord comes to me? 44For as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leaped for joy. 45And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.” 46And Mary said, “My soul magnifies the Lord, 47and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, 48for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; 49for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. 50His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. 51He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. 52He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; 53he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. 54He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, 55according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever.”

Darkness needs light: a reflection on the coming of holy night

I assume that everyone’s feeling tired by midnight on Christmas Eve. Midnight is not the time to be preaching long and hard. Here’s my offering for a group of churches in rural Warwickshire.

Wherever we look in the story of Jesus’ birth there is darkness. 

Matthew’s gospel begins with Mary’s disgrace and how Joseph saved her from being cast out by marrying her. Then we’re told that the Magi’s search triggers the slaughter of the innocents by Herod – he killed all the children in Bethlehem and around who were under two years old! Then Mary and Joseph become refugees to escape Herod’s slaughter.

Luke’s gospel begins with the darkness of Joseph and Mary being forced to make the long journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem by order of the Roman emperor -just to be counted – just to become numbers in the machine of a foreign empire. 

John’s gospel begins with the life which was to be the light of all people, the light that shines in darkness.

Darkness is never far from us. It’s within us – all those dark thoughts, and it’s all around us. On this night of darkness we celebrate how the light comes to us, how the light comes to us as love (all vulnerable), how the night becomes holy – thanks be to God.

I wrote this for tonight.

One light,
so much darkness. If truth be told
what Christmas needs
is the longest of nights, 
the shortest of days,
and the time when people
are at their coldest
and meanest.

For truth to be told
darkness needs light
for the night to find its way to day,
for those who walk
through the dark night of the soul
lost in a cloud of unknowing
frightened in the valley
of the shadows of death.

If truth be told
darkness lies
in the distance between us,
what  we do to one another in war,
rape, rubble, ruin in Gaza and Kyiv.
It rides the nightmares
of suffering, anxiety, despair.
It’s the cost of living.

The data of darkness
is hidden in official secrets
and personal shame,
in the blindness of prejudices
in the lies of truth twisters
in the scheming of profiteers
in the denial of freedoms
in the erections of borders

that divide darkness
from darkness, hiding the terror
from which so many flee.
It’s in their denial. Yes,
there is no room.
It’s in their small boats
not built for the darkness
of the deep and stormy sea.

If truth be told, it’s told in numbers:
in the homeless numbers,
the foodbank users,
the choosers choosing 
heating or eating,
the children killed in war.
It‘s in the numbers of those
who are just numbers.

It’s the middle of the night,
when even the clocks
put their hands together
in time to pray.
They pray for first light
to end the night, a baby flame
in the frame of shame,
and then they pray us awake

and in the darkness, see,
shimmering and flickering
in the world which,
if truth be told,
has no room for Light,
where the only place
to rest his head lay
in the love of a mother

and the kindness of a stranger 
in the inn the light came in,
casting shadows with halos,
our light never dying.
With the angel band backing,
all hallelujah singing,
watching shepherds 
dance the night away.

Joy to the world. Happy Christmas.

© David Herbert 2023

The First Photograph – a poem for these sort of times

The First Photograph

When Aylan Kurdi’s photo splashed across the waves,
it was a scoop, a spotlight on refugees, a beacon of hope
for better treatment, more welcome ways. It became
Sea Prayer for parents casting their children to sea in light vessels.
But nothing changed. It was a false dawn. Children keep drowning.
Here in Bethlehem, lives are poor, government weak.

A concrete cordon of wall dominates, not for our security mind,
but as shutter and blind to lives despised. We are occupied
by those whose minds pre-occupied by counting our threat,
known by numbers, never names. Our lives are poor,
our movement restricted, often imprisoned for raising flag,
hand or stone, getting by with our whittled olive tourist trade.

When reporters came from way out east, that was our moment,
that Aylan Kurdi flash. Three came. They’d heard our plight.
and noted our views, their reports were carried in paper news.
Their attraction, they said, was a star, a pin prick in a night sky,
inspiration for their camera and that first photograph, a baby
captured, strangely focused, fast exposed as a flash of light.

That was the image of us. It sold and sold. going world-wide,
framed, kissed and even enshrined, the light of the world,
while we still in darkness lie. There was a child, a shot in the dark.
Because of that aperture in this little Goliath walled town
where streets stay dark and soldiers still count their enemy,
we picture endurance in that light relief, that blink of an eye,
that pin prick in the night.

©David Herbert

Links to Khaled Hosseini’s Sea Prayer and the photo of Aylan Kurdi’s body

Leaving childhood: Holy Innocents Day

Massacre of the Innocents by Fra Angelico

Today is Holy Innocents Day, when we are called to remember childhood how children have been slaughtered. The focus is on the baby boys Herod slaughtered in Bethlehem at the time of Jesus, but also embraces the children slaughtered throughout history.

Jesus teaches that “unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18) This prompts the question about what childhood is. Is it something about vulnerability, dependence, naively and learning. Jesus added the word “humility”. “Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.”

And then we grow out of childhood, spending a lot of our time bigging ourselves up, taking ourselves out of reach of that kingdom Jesus spoke about.

I am reading organisations don’t tweet, people do by Euan Semple? He seems to suggest that the qualities that make for childhood are the qualities that are needed for leaders and organisations to be successful as he talks about vulnerability and humility in these terms:

“Being open about your failings isn’t everyone’s cup of tea and wouldn’t be acceptable in every workplace, but just a little more openness about your failings in front of your staff might be just be the best way to improve your working relationships. Being seen not to know, and being willing to ask for help, can be the best way to make other people feel valued. It also signals to them that it is OK not to know everything all the time. This creates the sort of culture where people are willing to open up and share what they know to everyone’s mutual benefit.”

Twelfth Night

Today is Epiphany – January 6th. Twelfth Night – down with that tree and away with that tinsel. Highlight of the season has been reading The First Christmas by Marcus Borg and Dominic Crossan. This has given spiritual direction for this wonderful season. Borg and Crossan describe the birth stories of Matthew and Luke’s gospels as “parabolic overtures” for their whole gospel of joy and conflict – personal and political.

Today, Epiphany, focus is on the story of the visit of the Magi who travel one road and then return by another road. The road they travel is to the palace of Jerusalem. Of course, they would go that way. The way of the worldy wise is to the palace and the court. They discover how wrong they are. In Breugemann’s phrase, they finish “9 miles wide”, and discover their journey’s end (and their beginning – TS Eliot) to be not at the court of Herod but in the outbuildings of an inn in Bethlehem. Their return “by another road” signifies repentance – a change of mind – demanded by the Jesus of the Gospel. “They no longer walked the same path, but followed another way.”

Messrs Borg and Crossan wonder whether I am “like the Magi who follow the light and refuse to comply with the ruler’s plot to destroy it.” Or whether I am like Herod “filled with fear and willing to use whatever means necessary to maintain power, even violence and slaughter.” Am I among those “who yearn for the coming of the kingdom of justice and peace, who seek peace through justice”, or am I among those “advocates of imperial theology who seek peace through victory?”

Borg and Crossan refer to the three tenses of Christmas. Past, present and future – as retold by Charles Dickens in the Christmas Carol. Of the future tense they refer to three different understandings:
One is called “interventionist eschatology” – in which only God can bring about the new world.
The second is called “participatory eschatology” in which we are to participate with God in bringing about the world promised by Christmas.
The third involves letting go of eschatology altogether in which Christian hope is not about the transformation of this world.
Only the second is affirmed by Borg and Crossan – thankfully. “We who have seen the star and heard the angels sing are called to participate in the new birth and new world proclaimed by these stories.” They quote Augustine’s aphorism: “God without us will not; we without God cannot.”