Jesus, the Christmas Light

Luke 1:78-79

[T]he Rising Sun will come to us from heaven
to shine on those living in darkness
   and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the path of peace.

The season of Advent is upon us once again. We prepare to receive the Light of the World, Jesus Christ, into our lives and to announce his coming to a world in darkness. It is no coincidence that the Church in the 4th century chose December 25 as the day to celebrate Jesus’ birth. The date was significant to the Romans for two reasons: it was the day of natalis solis invicti, the birth of the unconquered sun, and it was also the birthday of Mithras, the Persian “Sun of Righteousness,” a god popular with Roman soldiers. The preoccupation with the Sun during winter, across various cultures, is understandable given that during winter the days grow shorter and the nights grow longer. Couple the brevity of the daylight hours with the leaves falling from the trees, as well as overcast and gloomy skies, and people began to fear that the Sun was dying. The Aztecs, during the five days prior to the winter solstice — the shortest days of the year — would talk in whispers and walk without making a sound for fear of upsetting their Sun god Huitzilopochtli, who might very well leave never to return, leaving them in perpetual darkness. According to the mythology of many of these cultures, the Sun eventually rises again or returns to the people, bringing life-giving light and causing the crops to grow once more. There is a darkness deeper than night, a darkness that the warm Sun that greets humanity every morning can never dispel. It is the darkness of hearts overwhelmed with guilt and sin, of minds lacking in meaning and purpose, of relationships lacking in communion and love. And so to make the point of the significance of Jesus the early Church chose December 25 to celebrate His birth: Jesus is the “Sun” whose glory outshines every star and whose Light illumines every human being and brings life-giving power to every heart that welcomes Him. As you and yours hang Christmas lights on the roof or on your tree remind one another that Jesus is “The light [that] shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5). We can rejoice and have hope because the Jesus, the Rising Sun, has come and the darkness will be gone.

Why Be Moral?

Why be moral? That is a question that philosophers and theologians have pondered from time immemorial. Within Christian circles, some have used the terrors of hell to motivate people to live moral lives while others have appealed to the prospect of heavenly rewards. But either of these two options fails to grasp the nature of God and our relationship to Him.

The former view, which uses fear to move people to moral actions, conceives of God as a divine judge. God here is a monstrous ogre who delights in casting people into burning lakes of fire for any breach of His laws (as these laws are (mis-)understood by believers in this fearsome God). According to some who hold this view God will send you to hell for having a glass of wine with a meal or for dancing a waltz with your spouse.

The other view, which uses rewards as motivation for morality sees God as a divine carnival booth attendant: if you get it right three times, you win the overstuffed Panda bear. Keep doing the right thing and you win heaven in the end.

What both viewpoints misunderstand is that our moral action is to be a response motivated by love. In a relationship of love there is neither the fear of judgment nor the hope of reward; one does what is right out of love and respect for the other. So for example in the marriage relationship, each partner is faithful to the other, not because either is afraid of being beaten by the other, nor because each hopes that the other will get him/her a nice piece of jewelry. Instead each does the right thing (fidelity) because each loves the other and so wants to honor and respect him or her. Or take the parent/child relationship. The ideal is that a child obeys his father not because he is terrified of a “whippin'” nor because he hopes his obedience will get him another toy, but because he truly loves and respects his father.

There is a famous poem (which I only know in Spanish) attributed to St. Francis Xavier, which says something like this: “It is not the promised heaven that moves me to love you, O God; neither is it the fearsome hell. It is You who moves me, O God, You and You alone.” God wants us to do the right thing simply out of love for Him; not because we are terrified of being punished, nor because we think we can manipulate Him. Any other motivation traps us in a psychological game that does not enable us to find real joy and fulfillment in our relationship with God and others. Love must be the motivation of all morality.

A Global Ethic: Pie in the Sky Idealism?

This month is the fifth gathering of the Parliament of World Religions in Melbourne, Australia. The first parliament was held in 1893 in Chicago and was not held again until a century later. The purpose of the assembly has been to spur greater understanding among the world religions and find common points of agreement. Hans Küng, a prominent Catholic theologian, has been a leading voice in setting the agenda for the parliament. One of the aims has been to put forth “a global ethic,” that is, a minimum morality on which all people of faith and good will (so it includes even the non-religious) can agree. The ultimate goal is to use this declaration to marshal the faithful of all religions to pressure governments to fulfill the demands of the Global Ethic.

The Global Ethic affirms four principles it sees as central: 1) non-violence and respect for all life, 2) economic justice and solidarity, 3) tolerance and truthfulness, and 4) equal rights and partnership between men and women. These four principles, believes Küng, will serve to create peace in the world.

Comparing this declaration to the United Nations’ Universal Declaration on Human Rights reveals many similarities. Both declarations have a view of creating a more just and peaceful world. All that is good. But the Parliament’s declaration, like the U.N.’s, is no more effective than a beauty queen’s wish for world peace: it’s beautiful to hear but of no consequence, kind of like wishing that all 6 billion inhabitants of the world had a million dollars in their bank accounts; wishing it won’t make it so. While all people of good will want peace and truthfulness in all relations, these values are not fully realizable in the modern world. They are not realizable because many believe Truth does not exist; there is only “my truth” and “your truth.” Such epistemological relativism means that there cannot be peace, because the foundation of peace is Truth. Whether peace with God, peace of soul, or world peace, all depend on Truth for their attainment. From a Christian standpoint, there is objective Truth (Jn. 17:17) and peace with God is only possible after we acknowledge the truth about ourselves: that we are sinners in rebellion against God.

Jesus’ life and words revealed the irreconcilability of truth and peace in this sinful world and why a new world order, not made with human hands, is necessary. When he said “I did not come to bring peace, but a sword” (Mt. 10:34), it was the lamentable recognition that speaking the truth of God will result in hostility and ultimately violence against the truth-bearer. Jesus knew he would be crucified because He spoke the truth. In a world rife with deception and self-deception, therefore, the possibility of peace is indeed remote for the deceivers and the self-deceived will always oppose and strike out in violence against those who proclaim the truth.

This Christmas we once again announce the Gospel Truth that the Prince of Peace has come and that repentance is the first step to peace. Many Parliaments will be held, many declarations made, but peace will always remain elusive.

Halloween and the Day After

October ends with All Hallows Eve and November begins with All Saints Day which in some countries, like Mexico, is known as the Day of the Dead. These two days reflect the tension present in human existence between duty and responsibility on the one hand, and license and self-gratification on the other. On Hallows Eve, restraint is thrown by the wayside, social norms are ignored, extortion of the neighbor is the operative moral maxim: “Trick or Treat” or translated: “Give me candy or I’m gonna do something bad to you or your property.” The idea of Halloween is to push the envelope by highlighting the macabre, the horrific, the disgusting, the monstrous. Why? Because the following day is All Saints Day: our obligation to remember the dead and make provision for them.

In Mexico the day after Halloween is observed by relatives bringing food to the cemetery to “feed” their dearly departed. In some other countries, flower petals are strewn from the grave of the loved one to the house of their living relative so they can find their way home where a fresh cooked meal awaits. It’s a time of honoring and remembering the deceased. The implied moral maxim is: We have duties and responsibilities to our loved ones that extend beyond this life, we must honor and respect those who came before us (and have preceded us in death). Of course in our debased, secularized culture, only half of the tradition remains: Halloween, the emphasis on license and self-gratification. The second part, All Saints Day, emphasizing duty and responsibility to loved ones has been erased from cultural memory. Now don’t get me wrong. Halloween is a fun time for kids, and I always enjoyed taking my children out dressed in cute wholesome costumes to get candy. As a Christian I see nothing wrong with participating in the fun and wholesome aspects of a cultural tradition. But as often happens in our culture, the spiritual aspects of holidays (holy days) are ignored or lost from view: Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter come to mind. These too have become mere occasions for eating and shopping, with the spiritual aspect virtually ignored.

Another example of the tension between the bodily and the spiritual, and so relatedly between self-gratification and self-denial, is Mardi Gras and Ash Wednesday. Mardi Gras or “Fat Tuesday” is a time of excess, carnival (“carne” “vale” – the worth of the flesh), casting off restraint, and so we all know of the riotous, orgiastic, drunken celebrations in places like New Orleans and Rio de Janeiro. Why do people behave this way? Because the next day is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent, when the devout must sacrifice something to remember that Jesus sacrificed himself for us. Do those crowds we see celebrating Mardi Gras in New Orleans then enter into an attitude of sober reflection and self-restraint as Lent begins? Probably not. Again a reminder that our culture is much more attracted to the bodily, the sensual, to license and libertinism rather than to the spiritual, the contemplative, duty, responsibility, and self-denial. As Christians we need to remind our fellows of this second aspect of life.

Praying "In Jesus' Name"

We often conclude our prayers with the phrase “in the name of Jesus, Amen.” The phrase falls easily from our lips; like a magic formula, we utter it without much thought as to its meaning. We say it because we have heard other Christians say it at the end of their prayers; we are such creatures of the herd. But the phrase is pregnant with meaning. We should use it not only because Jesus instructed us to ask in “his name”— the Father will give you whatever you ask in my name” (Jn. 15:16)—but because of the various implications of the phrase.

First, it means that whatever we are asking for is not for us but for our Master. Right before Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem he sent his disciples out to get him a colt to ride on, telling them, “Untie it and bring it here. If anyone asks you, 'Why are you doing this?' tell him, 'The Lord needs it." (Mk. 11:2-3). The disciples were sent in Jesus’ name to get what “the Lord needs.” That certainly puts a qualifier on our prayers and helps us reflect on what we are praying for. Is what I am praying for to meet some selfish desire or is it something the Lord needs? Am I asking for myself or so that Jesus may be exalted and praised? When I end my prayer with “in Jesus name,” I am really saying that whatever I am asking for is because the Lord needs it so that he may be glorified. Glorifying Christ should be the ultimate aim of all our prayers.

Secondly, saying “in Jesus name” means that I am not going before God the Father on my own merits for I have nothing to commend me. There is no reason why God should be attentive to my prayers since in comparison to the vastness of the universe God has to attend to, my concerns are but petty nuisances. But Jesus loves me so much that he made my petty concerns his own and sends me before the Father with the full weight of his authority and majesty backing me. Now that’s clout.

But thirdly, and finally, the phrase “in Jesus name” at the end of my prayers is an acknowledgment of my surrender, that I am not my own, that I am now the servant and Jesus is my Master and my King. Kings would often send ambassadors to other rulers with some token or seal that identified them as emissaries and authorized them to speak and deal on behalf of their king. To the extent that they were ambassadors, they in essence belonged to the king and were the king’s servants; loyalty and obedience was to be expected. When I say, therefore, “in Jesus’ name” I am introducing myself in prayer to the Father as an obedient and loyal servant of Jesus Christ. Can I say this at the end of my prayers with full integrity? Am I really an obedient and loyal servant of Jesus Christ?

So there is nothing magical about the phrase. If anything, it reminds us to take stock of our relationship with Jesus and what it is we are requesting in our prayers, but it also gives us the assurance that our prayers will always be heard.

Terrorism, Crime, and Forgiveness

This past month we once again noted the anniversary of 9/11 and remembered the 3000 innocents who died on that horrific Tuesday morning. It is ironic that this past month Scotland released the terrorist (Al-megrahi) convicted of the bombing on Pan Am Flight 103 which killed 270 innocents after serving 8 years in prison. The Scottish minister of justice said it was done in the name of compassion. In the name of “compassion” the Scottish minister became a minister of injustice. Notwithstanding the behind-the-curtain deal for oil that Great Britain made with Libya to make this happen, the notion that some other party, and not those directly made to suffer by the horrific acts of the offender, should take upon himself the decision to forgive and release the offender is an outrage to common sense, common decency, and morality. Several arguments can be made against such “forgiveness.”

First, fairness (i.e. justice) requires that what is done for one must be done for others in similar circumstances. Hence, what will the Scottish government do with all those others who are in prison for murder who become terminally ill? Will it release them as well? Not likely. Is Mr. Al-megrahi (and will he be) the only prisoner ever to become terminally ill while in prison? Can you hear a terminally ill prisoner ask the warden: “If Mr. Al-megrahi was released after killing 270 people, why are you keeping me here when I only killed one?” Of course, those who committed lesser crimes should have an even better case: “I only robbed a bank, why am I not released to my family?” Can you imagine the warden replying: “I’m sorry. You don’t qualify. Your crime is not severe enough; you didn’t kill enough people to be forgiven.”

Second, the function of the state is not to administer forgiveness, but to administer justice. If in the modern world, the state has taken from victims the right to exact justice in the interest of dispassionate impartiality, then at least let the state leave victims the prerogative to forgive. By taking away that prerogative, the state completely crushes and disempowers victims, leaving them to wallow in their grief now compounded with bitterness and resentment.

Third, forgiveness requires repentance. But you may ask: “Didn’t Jesus say that we should forgive our enemies?” Yes, we need to forgive OUR enemies, not someone else’s. There is a one to one correlation between the offender and the offended. The Lord’s Prayer says: “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass AGAINST US.” There is no evidence in the Bible of indiscriminate forgiveness, much less of forgiveness by those not directly victimized. Even Jesus did not forgive everyone. As Jesus hung on the cross with the two thieves on each side, they were mocking him. Later one of the thieves repented and chastised the other thief for his mockery. It was to the repentant thief that Jesus said “Today you shall be with me in Paradise” (Lk. 23:42-43). To the other thief he said nothing. Repentance is the prerequisite for forgiveness (Lk. 24:47; 2 Cor. 7:10; 2 Pet. 3:9). The Scottish minister obviously thinks himself more merciful than Jesus.