Our Needs and God’s Desires
December 20, 2009
Micah 5:2-51; Luke 1:39-55
Let’s hear some good news for a change! Oh, to be sure, the news of these days continues to be mostly bleak: wars rage; politicians argue; major issues loom undecided and seemingly undecideable.
But let’s hear some good news!
Maybe it’s the time of year, but I’ve been attuned to good news this past week. Did you hear the story of the 83-year-old woman who, just a few weeks ago, took her first solo flight after having decided, at age 80, that she wanted to take up something to keep her mind active. Some folks choose cross-word puzzles; she decided to learn to fly. Nothing particularly profound in that story, but simply joy is always worth sharing.
Or did you see, from the other end of life and far more profound, the story in the Post on Thursday morning about the 20-year-old woman who just found the two people who, when they were high school kids, had found her, a 12-hour-old baby abandoned on a suburban stoop? The kids – now in their mid 30s – had never forgotten that moment, and long wondered what had become of the baby. They were both overjoyed to hear from her after all these years, and are planning a reunion which the man called, “the best Christmas present” he’s ever received.
It’s always nice to hear a bit of good news.
So listen for a word from God in this news that is so good it moves a young girl in decidedly difficult circumstances to sing praises to her God:
I love the readings for this morning. We are reminded in Micah and in Luke that God chooses what is lowly to make manifest what is great; God chooses what is weak to incarnate what is most powerful; God chooses the least of these to share the best of news.
Through Micah, God says, “I’m going to work through one of the little clans, one of the unimportant backwaters of the empire, to speak a word of liberation.” Through Mary, God says, “I’m going to work through a poor, unmarried teenage mother from the suburbs of Jerusalem, to bring good news to the poor of the entire earth.”
And, of course, the story doesn’t end there. Jesus chooses the most ragtag group of disciples upon which to build a movement of good news to the poor, recovery of sight to the blind, liberation to the captives. Then God chooses Paul, the young movement’s harshest critic, to become its greatest apostle.
But the story doesn’t end there, either. Think of those whom God has called to bring good news to the poor, the marginalized, the outcast of history: a rather funny looking little Indian man to liberate his people and bring down an empire; an African-American preacher to bring down a century of Jim Crow laws and turn a nation’s self-image upside down; a middle-aged camera store owner to lead a movement the opened the nation’s closets and set a people free.
And all of these folks – back to Micah and Mary and Paul and on through Gandhi and King and Milk – are just the famous ones; the ones whose names are known. For each of them, there are millions who labored and who labor on in obscurity.
Maybe they are a pair of teen-aged friends who find a baby and figure out what to do to give an abandoned child a chance at life. Maybe it’s simply being able to find new life and new purpose as you age. Maybe it’s being a faithful member of a community such as ours and working to feed the hungry, house the homeless, liberate the captives, end the wars, empower the powerless, proclaim good news to the poor, and preach the good news that God so loves the world as to address and embrace it on our own level – if not on our own terms.
And that, in and of itself, is the good news! God does not address us on our own terms, because our terms are terms of distance when God desires intimacy, disbelief when God desires trust, disobedience when God desires discipleship. Moreover, we operate on patterns of domination where God desires cooperation, hierarchy where God desires relationship, and empire where God desires community.
It is clearly good news that God so loves us as to gather us in as a mother hen does her chicks, and it is just as clearly great good news that God does not offer us our own terms but rather challenges us – through the manger and the cross – to embrace new terms.
As Peg suggested so powerfully last Sunday, Christ confronts us on terms that are not always the most comfortable for us: the beggar at the door, the drug addict in the family, the baby wrapped in swaddling clothes and abandoned on a stoop, the unemployed teenager on the street corner who might just be a savior.
And Christ calls us to respond. If we have two coats, then give one away. If we have more than enough food, then feed those who are hungry. If we stumble up someone in need, don’t turn away – turn to help. If we have more money than we need, share it with those who do not have all that they need.
In this season, in particular, separating out what we need from what we desire is profoundly difficult. Or, not so much. I was Christmas shopping last week over at Potomac Yard. There’s a Porsche dealer on the corner of Glebe and Rt. 1. Every time I sit at that light I ask myself, “Now, do I need the red one or do I need the black one?”
Confusing or conflating need and desire leads us into strange places – like the kid who ate his homework because the teacher told him that he needed to do the work and, anyway, it was a piece of cake.
I really do not need most of the things that have ever been on my Christmas lists. I know this because my life is rich and full already, and I don’t have many of the things on my list. Food, clothing and shelter are not on the list, unless you include chocolate, cashmere, and a beach house.
The story that touches us in this season – the manger, the young couple, the unexpected baby – this story knows the difference between need and desire, and the story reveals what we really need.
Of course the wise men get it all wrong. We do not need the gold – and we don’t even know what frankincense and myrrh are.
God confounds the wisdom of the world with this good news. And through this good news God’s desires are revealed as our deepest needs. Intimacy, trust, discipleship. Cooperation, relationship, community. God’s desires. Our needs.
What we need, beyond food, clothing and shelter, is connection and meaning. We need to be loved just as we need to be fed. We need to be loved just as we need to be sheltered. We need to be loved just as we need to be protected from the wind and the rain. And we need to love just as we need to breathe. That fundamental human need – love – is at the heart of all that God desires.
Mary understood, far beyond her years, that such love can turn the world around. She heard, with her heart if not her ears, good news in this unexpected pregnancy. She trusted, beyond her fears, that such love could be for her because it is not the exclusive property of those who possess the world’s treasure and think that thus their needs are met.
Mary’s song underscores the difference between needs and desires, and in her life they meet. The hopes and fears of all the years are met in her singular desire to magnify the Lord. In her desire, our needs are met.
That is the gift that awaits us and for which we are always preparing in our Advent lives. The question of Advent is really quite simple, then: When you meet the Christ child – on a stoop, at the manger – will you open your heart?
Amen.
Micah 5:2-51; Luke 1:39-55
Let’s hear some good news for a change! Oh, to be sure, the news of these days continues to be mostly bleak: wars rage; politicians argue; major issues loom undecided and seemingly undecideable.
But let’s hear some good news!
Maybe it’s the time of year, but I’ve been attuned to good news this past week. Did you hear the story of the 83-year-old woman who, just a few weeks ago, took her first solo flight after having decided, at age 80, that she wanted to take up something to keep her mind active. Some folks choose cross-word puzzles; she decided to learn to fly. Nothing particularly profound in that story, but simply joy is always worth sharing.
Or did you see, from the other end of life and far more profound, the story in the Post on Thursday morning about the 20-year-old woman who just found the two people who, when they were high school kids, had found her, a 12-hour-old baby abandoned on a suburban stoop? The kids – now in their mid 30s – had never forgotten that moment, and long wondered what had become of the baby. They were both overjoyed to hear from her after all these years, and are planning a reunion which the man called, “the best Christmas present” he’s ever received.
It’s always nice to hear a bit of good news.
So listen for a word from God in this news that is so good it moves a young girl in decidedly difficult circumstances to sing praises to her God:
“In those days Mary set out and went with haste to a Judean town in the hill country, where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary's greeting, the child leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and exclaimed with a loud cry, "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. And why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord comes to me? For as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leaped for joy. And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord."Mary’s soul cries out to God who is doing great things in her!
And Mary said, "My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name.
His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever."
I love the readings for this morning. We are reminded in Micah and in Luke that God chooses what is lowly to make manifest what is great; God chooses what is weak to incarnate what is most powerful; God chooses the least of these to share the best of news.
Through Micah, God says, “I’m going to work through one of the little clans, one of the unimportant backwaters of the empire, to speak a word of liberation.” Through Mary, God says, “I’m going to work through a poor, unmarried teenage mother from the suburbs of Jerusalem, to bring good news to the poor of the entire earth.”
And, of course, the story doesn’t end there. Jesus chooses the most ragtag group of disciples upon which to build a movement of good news to the poor, recovery of sight to the blind, liberation to the captives. Then God chooses Paul, the young movement’s harshest critic, to become its greatest apostle.
But the story doesn’t end there, either. Think of those whom God has called to bring good news to the poor, the marginalized, the outcast of history: a rather funny looking little Indian man to liberate his people and bring down an empire; an African-American preacher to bring down a century of Jim Crow laws and turn a nation’s self-image upside down; a middle-aged camera store owner to lead a movement the opened the nation’s closets and set a people free.
And all of these folks – back to Micah and Mary and Paul and on through Gandhi and King and Milk – are just the famous ones; the ones whose names are known. For each of them, there are millions who labored and who labor on in obscurity.
Maybe they are a pair of teen-aged friends who find a baby and figure out what to do to give an abandoned child a chance at life. Maybe it’s simply being able to find new life and new purpose as you age. Maybe it’s being a faithful member of a community such as ours and working to feed the hungry, house the homeless, liberate the captives, end the wars, empower the powerless, proclaim good news to the poor, and preach the good news that God so loves the world as to address and embrace it on our own level – if not on our own terms.
And that, in and of itself, is the good news! God does not address us on our own terms, because our terms are terms of distance when God desires intimacy, disbelief when God desires trust, disobedience when God desires discipleship. Moreover, we operate on patterns of domination where God desires cooperation, hierarchy where God desires relationship, and empire where God desires community.
It is clearly good news that God so loves us as to gather us in as a mother hen does her chicks, and it is just as clearly great good news that God does not offer us our own terms but rather challenges us – through the manger and the cross – to embrace new terms.
As Peg suggested so powerfully last Sunday, Christ confronts us on terms that are not always the most comfortable for us: the beggar at the door, the drug addict in the family, the baby wrapped in swaddling clothes and abandoned on a stoop, the unemployed teenager on the street corner who might just be a savior.
And Christ calls us to respond. If we have two coats, then give one away. If we have more than enough food, then feed those who are hungry. If we stumble up someone in need, don’t turn away – turn to help. If we have more money than we need, share it with those who do not have all that they need.
In this season, in particular, separating out what we need from what we desire is profoundly difficult. Or, not so much. I was Christmas shopping last week over at Potomac Yard. There’s a Porsche dealer on the corner of Glebe and Rt. 1. Every time I sit at that light I ask myself, “Now, do I need the red one or do I need the black one?”
Confusing or conflating need and desire leads us into strange places – like the kid who ate his homework because the teacher told him that he needed to do the work and, anyway, it was a piece of cake.
I really do not need most of the things that have ever been on my Christmas lists. I know this because my life is rich and full already, and I don’t have many of the things on my list. Food, clothing and shelter are not on the list, unless you include chocolate, cashmere, and a beach house.
The story that touches us in this season – the manger, the young couple, the unexpected baby – this story knows the difference between need and desire, and the story reveals what we really need.
Of course the wise men get it all wrong. We do not need the gold – and we don’t even know what frankincense and myrrh are.
God confounds the wisdom of the world with this good news. And through this good news God’s desires are revealed as our deepest needs. Intimacy, trust, discipleship. Cooperation, relationship, community. God’s desires. Our needs.
What we need, beyond food, clothing and shelter, is connection and meaning. We need to be loved just as we need to be fed. We need to be loved just as we need to be sheltered. We need to be loved just as we need to be protected from the wind and the rain. And we need to love just as we need to breathe. That fundamental human need – love – is at the heart of all that God desires.
Mary understood, far beyond her years, that such love can turn the world around. She heard, with her heart if not her ears, good news in this unexpected pregnancy. She trusted, beyond her fears, that such love could be for her because it is not the exclusive property of those who possess the world’s treasure and think that thus their needs are met.
Mary’s song underscores the difference between needs and desires, and in her life they meet. The hopes and fears of all the years are met in her singular desire to magnify the Lord. In her desire, our needs are met.
That is the gift that awaits us and for which we are always preparing in our Advent lives. The question of Advent is really quite simple, then: When you meet the Christ child – on a stoop, at the manger – will you open your heart?
Amen.
posted by David Ensign at
12:16 PM
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