“The God of Unlikely Places”

Christmas Eve Service of Lessons and Carols

Thursday December 24, 2009

John 1: 1-14

Isaiah 9: 2b, 6-7

Micah 5: 2-5a

Matthew 1: 18-25

Luke 2: 1-20

Philippians 2: 5-11

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 Israel, whose origin is from of old, from ancient days…and he shall be the one of peace.

It is very common, at Christmas time, to read these words from the prophet Micah – words of a vision about a ruler who would come from Bethlehem, whose coming was expected from ancient days, and who would usher in a time of peace.

It is so common, in fact, that we seldom pause to consider just how unlikely the message that underlies this proclamation actually is.

After all, the little town of Bethlehem, was not the type of place that one would naturally go if they were seeking to experience the presence of God.

On this night, of all nights, it is interesting to ask ourselves where we would go?  Where do we expect to feel the presence of God’s grace?

Often, I have the opportunity to speak with people about where they expect to experience the presence of God.    Some speak of feeling that sense of God’s presence when they are surrounded by the beauty of nature – the wonder of the fall colours during a long walk in autumn woods, the peaceful blanket which spreads across the world during the first snowfall, a canoe gliding over a northern lake as the morning mist rises off the water, the immensity of the starry night sky.  Others experience those times of grace in the company of loved ones –at some incredible experience like the birth of a child, or when they hold a grandchild in their arms, or when they are gathered together in the din of conversation during a meal shared with beloved friends and family members.  Still others speak of touches of grace in relation to the practices of faith – in beloved rituals of religious devotion, or in the quiet depths of contemplative meditation, or when they feel inspired during one of those spine-tingling moments in some moving piece of music.  There are so many answers to that question, so many places that we almost expect to be touched by grace, or by some deepened awareness of the presence of the mystery that is the God of love.   

But just as it is interesting for us to ponder where we expect to feel those touches of grace, it is equally interesting for us to ponder the number of times that the God who is revealed in the Bible chooses the most unlikely places to connect with us. 

We all know, of course, that our faith invites us to believe that God is not limited by space or time, and that this great mystery is ever present with us, at every moment of every day, in every place that we go.  

But this belief in God’s universal and faithful presence was not always so.  In the ancient world, it was often believed that there were a host of different deities, many of which were connected to certain places and certain events.  Whether it was the god of the thunder, or the god of the mountains, or the god of the seas; or whether it was the god of a local population or the god of a victorious army, it was often believed that there were many different gods competing for our loyalty.  In many cultures of the ancient world, the gods were many.

The people of Israel, however, came to a different set of beliefs about the God who had been revealed to them and to their ancestors.  Their belief was that there were not many gods competing for their allegiance – but, rather, that God was one. 

This realization did not come quickly.  Their God was, at one point, a local deity confined to a small tribe of people – to Abraham and Sarah and their extended family.   But, over the centuries, they came to realize that the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob was far more powerful than they had previously imagined.  That god, who had heard the cries of oppression in Egypt, not only acted to liberate them from their slavery, but joined them on their long journey through the wilderness.  Even though they were prohibited from constructing statues or temples to represent or to contain that mysterious presence who journeyed with them, they were assured of God’s presence in the unlikely context of that long wilderness sojourn.

After they established themselves in the Promised Land, and constructed the great city of Jerusalem, they built a grand temple to celebrate God’s presence with them.  Now they knew the most likely place to go to find God.  But then, during their exile in Babylon, they came to the startling and unlikely realization that God was not confined to the Temple, but continued to be with them, even in their Babylon captivity.  God’s power – and God’s faithfulness to them in bad times as well as in good times -- was greater than they had imagined.

In the years around the exile, prophets and writers such as Isaiah and Jeremiah began to write of their visions of a time when God would send a chosen servant, a Messiah, to establish an everlasting kingdom in which justice, liberation, compassion, faithfulness and love would reign supreme – forever. 

But, even though their visions of that God were grand and universal in scope, the prophet’s sensed that there was something that was going to be different about the way that the people would find and experience that God.  They began to sense that God would choose to appear – and God’s servant would be revealed -- in the way that most of us would not expect.  Rather than the pomp and circumstance that usually signaled the presence of power, the chosen servant of that God would be humble, kind, generous, and peaceful. 

And the presence of that compassion and peacefulness was not the only unusual or unlikely thing about that chosen servant.  Even the place where God’s servant, the promised Messiah, would be revealed would be both unusual – and very unlikely.   

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 Israel, whose origin is from of old, from ancient days…and he shall be the one of peace.

Little Bethlehem.  Yes, Bethlehem had long been identified as the hometown of the great King David.  But it had never become a large or particularly important place.  As a place for God’s Messiah to be revealed, it truly was a most unlikely place.

But that is where God chose to be revealed – in a manger stall in that little, unlikely village.  

And, what is important for us to ponder, on this joyful, silent, mysterious night, is that the stable in Bethlehem was not the last unlikely place where God chose to be revealed.  The Gospel stories continue, again and again, to lead us to unlikely places–a manger; a refugee family fleeing into Egypt to escape Herod’s wrath; a group of fishermen; a simple meal spread on a table in an upper room; a cross; an empty tomb.  In each of these unlikely places, God’s love was powerfully revealed in this world. 

And what was true then continues to be true, even now.  Yes, God can be experienced in the grandeur of nature, or the peaceful practices of a religious life, or in the disciplines of a dedicated spirituality; yes, God can be experienced in the laughter of children and in the warmth of a loved one’s embrace; yes, God can be experienced in the heights of joyful singing and in the depths of quiet prayer.

But God also can be found in the most unlikely places – at the bedside of a dying friend, in the delusional ramblings of an Alzheimer’s patient, in the gruff and grateful friendship with a person on the street; in a conversation with an “unimportant” person that we happen to pause to speak with even though we are busily scurrying off to do something that we thought was far more important.  God is revealed in unlikely places – if we have the eyes to see, and the ears to hear.

And, even now, God longs to be revealed in what most of us would consider to be the most unlikely place of all. 

In our hearts.

There may not have been room in the inn on that night so long ago – but may it be our prayer that there will be room in our hearts this night – because, even in this moment, the God of unlikely places is looking for a place to stay.