January 2, 2010

Abiding in the Disruption

By Enuma Okoro

Christmas day has come and gone but the season of Christmas still has a few days left. Up until now we have been caught up in miracles, the old pregnant woman, the speechless old husband, the Holy Spirit’s indwelling, the virgin birth, the incarnation. And now the child is born. What could God offer next to top that finale like display of miracles? I read Luke’s 2nd chapter and I realize that the gospel text remains rich enough to keep me occupied for days.  One of the most beautiful things to me is that God continues the divine gift-giving to Mary and Joseph (and by extension- humanity) even after it seems the biggest gift has been received in the Christ child.

The Luke 2:1-20 narrative pushes me to both ponder how the holy family navigated their faith lives, and to reflect on the grace and faithfulness of God. Just a chapter ago Mary heard the Angel speak words of greatness about her child to be. Now she and Joseph are the new parents to a supposed eternal king. I can’t help but try to imagine what the pillow talk was like that first night in the manger. After the exhaustion and pain of childbirth, without an epidural mind you, I wonder if any questions or creeping doubts found their way to snuggle between the haystacks with this young family. As Mary and Joseph peered at their infant son who was the first to say the words aloud,

“So here we are. All that stuff about thrones and the Most High… do you think really?” Mary might ask.
“Well, maybe it was a, what do you call that…a metaphor? Maybe he’ll just reign in our hearts. Or maybe he won’t join me in the shop and he’ll end up being a high priest even though we’re poor. That wouldn’t be so bad would it?” Joseph might reply, taking Jesus out of Mary’s arms so she could try to get some sleep.
“I don’t know Joe. Now that he’s here, I’m a little scared. What does this all mean? Why us? What do we do now?”
“I don’t know Mary. I don’t know what it all means or why us. But I guess we just keep doing what we know how to do. I don’t know what it means that he is the Son of God but he’s our boy. We circumcise him in eight days, you go through the purification rites, we present him at the temple and we just see what God does. For now, just get some sleep. It’s been a long nine months.”

Of course, we have no idea what transpired between Mary and Joseph that night. But since they were human like the rest of us, I wouldn’t be surprised if they did have surfacing fears and momentary doubts concerning all God had said to them. I think miracles have a way of making us both awed and slightly uncomfortable. And yet God remains present with us in our awed discomfort, in our rising questions and doubts, in the temptations to ask, “Could God really be acting in MY life?” and if so, “What do I do now?”

What I am coming to treasure about Mary and Joseph in this chapter is that even while bearing the most amazing miracle of all, even while having the most profound encounter with God, these two faithful people continue about their faithful business of attending to life and doing what is expected of them. Their favor with God does not seem to tempt them with pride or with the expectation that somehow their lives should automatically be easier or reordered.  Joseph takes his family to be registered in Bethlehem like any good citizen.  They circumcise the child on the eighth day like faithful Jewish parents. Mary observes the normal Jewish rite of purification for a woman who’s given birth to a son. When that time is over, they make their way to the temple to present Jesus like all faithful Jews would have done. And even as they are bringing the Son of God himself to the temple they still make the expected sacrificial offering of two pigeons, the allotment for a poor family.
And God’s grace and goodness abides. As this faithful couple goes about their faithful routines and responsibilities, as Mary and Joseph go about doing what they know how to do and open themselves up to learning how to live into the newness to which God is calling them, God continues to send words of affirmation and confirmation their way in the midst of routine and ordinary circumstances, reminding them that God is a God of his word. God continues through the witness of astounded shepherds and rejoicing prophets, to assure Mary and Joseph, and all of humanity of God’s abiding presence.

The point is that one of the many things the narrative of Luke chapter 2 teaches us is that when God disrupts our lives and breaks into our individual and communal worlds even in unimaginable ways, there is still a sense of peace and order. The ways of God are disruptive to be sure but they are not chaotic. God’s movement in our lives may unsettle us and drastically alter our plans or expectations but it does not call us to abandon our responsibilities, or to flail about in fear or worry for our next steps. It does not call us to walk blindly without sense of purpose or direction.

In fact perhaps every time God disrupts our lives it is actually another moment of creation, another instance in which God is bringing holy order out of our own chaos, shining light into darkness, hovering with the power and comfort of the Holy Spirit above our turbulent lives. It often takes a disruption to redirect our lives. And granted, not all disruptions are of God, but for the ones that are, God has a way of affirming and confirming through ordinary and routine circumstances. Our job is to continue to do what we know how to do, trusting that the next step will be provided, and ready to deviate from our own plans when it is.