Newsletter

Opening Presence

By Rev. David Green

When my children were younger we had a tradition this time of year. We'd spend the better part of a Saturday putting up Christmas decorations around the house: trimming the Christmas tree, hanging swags of evergreen, placing a wreath on the front door.

Part of that tradition was pulling the parts of an old ceramic Nativity scene out of its box, and arranging it up on a mantle. My kids were the ones designated to set up the Nativity scene, and they were pretty particular about the placement of the various figurines.

Mary and Joseph had to be at perfect 45-degree angles and a couple of inches behind the manger where the infant Jesus rested on a bed of straw. Wise men to the left (I suppose that was from the east!) . . . shepherds to the right . . . a donkey and a cow at a respectable distance toward the rear . . . along with a blond angel that looked something like a character out of an opera by Wagner.

But one year after the Nativity scene had been set up, I noticed an interesting addition to the holy tableau. There were all the usual characters in their usual places: the wise men, the shepherds, Mary and Joseph . . . but right there next to the infant Jesus stood none other than . . . Mr. Potato Head.

Since I couldn't recall Mr. Potato Head being on the roster of those counted as present at the original blessed event, I asked my son Harry why Mr. Potato Head was included in our Nativity scene. He said, "Who knows? He might have been there. Does it really matter?"

Indeed. I suppose it does matter if you take the New Testament stories about the birth of Jesus literally . . . but then again, if you did that, you also wouldn't have shepherds and wise men milling around together like neighbors at a cocktail party.

Luke's gospel has no mention of wise men, and Matthew does not write about shepherds. It's just tradition to mush those birth narratives together to form a prettier picture, I guess. Having co-mingling shepherds and wise men is not biblically accurate, but try telling that to anyone setting up a Nativity scene in their front yard, and you're likely to have a fight on your hands.

It's interesting to me that so many Christians insist on a literal understanding of the Christmas story - and for that matter - the rest of the Bible.

I was in a bookstore last week and came across yet another best - seller whose author claimed that the Bible is literally true in every regard, andthat not believing in the literal, historical, word - for - word accuracy of the Bible meant that one could not be a real Christian.

I thought, well, if that's the case, this must be what it feels like to be a heathen!

But on the other hand, I thought, how sad. How terribly sad.

Sad, because the faith I grew up with seems to have been kidnapped in the middle of the night.

When did scholarly interpretation become an evil thing? To look at something from a literary and social and historical perspective? When did it become wrong to wonder and to doubt and to look into why a piece of scripture was written . . . and who wrote it . . . and for whom did they write the thing? And to draw your own conclusions?

It's sad, because since the idea of a literal interpretation of the Bible is so prevalent, and because those who believe that are so insistent that theirs is the only way, it has the effect shutting out or shutting down the rest of us: those of us who might actually be able to appreciate written Jewish and Christian tradition and not have to think of it all as superstitious or irrelevant mumbo-jumbo that we could never swallow.

It's sad because there's actually a lot of wonderful stuff in the Bible; stories that don't have to be literally true to still contain truth.

It's sad, because in most forums, it's not okay to ask if it really matters whether or not Mr. Potato Head was standing there next to Joseph and Mary at the manger.

Now, the reason I'm bringing this up at all is because whether you're Christian, or Jewish, or agnostic, or atheist, or humanist, or Wiccan, or Baha'i, or Buddhist, or whatever . . . here in Amarillo, USA, the only way to escape Christmas would be to throw yourself down a very deep hole, and at the bottom you'd still probably land on top of a yard sign that says "Jesus is the reason for the season."

I mention it because an influential Christian group like Focus on the Family publishes an annual list of retail stores that are brave enough, in their estimation, to use expressions such as "Merry Christmas" in their holiday promotions.

It's a version of who's naughty and nice, for Christians who feel threatened by diversity. Apparently, a sign at the local toy store that reads "Happy Holidays" is a slap in the face of family values.

Focus on the Family is concerned that we're on a slippery slope towards denying that the meaning of Christmas is about a baby miraculously conceived and destined to suffer an atoning death . . . so that, one day we could all be free to shop at Wal-Mart, just the way God intended.

I personally don't think they have much to worry about. The celebration of their version of Christmas still looks pretty strong to me. And in fact, the celebration of Christmas is so unavoidable, so ingrained, that many of us who don't believe in the literal truth of the Christmas story - who don't buy into the virgin birth or the travelogue of the wise men - still continue put up a Christmas tree and hang stockings by the chimney with care and buy our kids and grandkids the latest must-have gadget and wrap it up with a pretty bow, all the while maybe feeling a little out of sorts with ourselves for going along with something we don't really believe in.

But I'm not convinced we need to feel that way. Whether or not you believe in the Christmas story, I think we can still celebrate what that story represents, and I think we can even engage our Christian neighbors and friends who believe that the validity of their faith depends on the Bible being a literal work of non-fiction.

What's important for us to understand is that those friends of ours have been taught that a metaphor is the same thing as a lie. A metaphor, for them, means that something is not literal. And, they've been taught that when it comes to the Bible, it must be literal to contain any truth.

The problem is, that's a notion I'm pretty sure that many of the original authors of the Bible never even intended, and that they'd be horrified to learn that people today were reading their words as literal history, and not as stories designed to make a larger point.

The metaphorical meaning of a passage of scripture - or anything else - is simply a larger way of looking at it. And the Bible is a mixed bag of obvious metaphorical narrative and historical memory.

Now, some of the events it describes might have happened more or less the way they're reported as a way of preserving the memory of the event. But even when the Bible does tell a history story, the meaning of that story always matters more than its historical accuracy.

For instance, the story of the Jews exiled to Babylon in the 6th century BCE is almost certainly true, but the way the story's told gives it a meaning that's more than literal. It's a metaphor for one of the most common themes in literature and in the basic human condition: exile and return.

In other cases, like the creation stories in Genesis and the Garden of Eden and the flood of Noah, those stories don't even pretend to be literally true; they're not written to explain the scientific history of the earth or early humankind.

They're not remembered history. They're metaphorical narratives that at the same time can be profoundly true.

The problem is, most folks tend to identify something as true, only if it's factual. Marcus Borg - and some of you have read his books about how the Bible can be interpreted - he writes that when people ask the question, "Is that story true?" what they often really mean is, "Did that actually happen?"

At the same time, we all recognize that there are metaphorical truths.

We know that when we tune in to "A Prairie Home Companion" on National Public Radio, and hear Garrison Keillor share "The News from Lake Wobegone," that he's making those stories up. But we still hear the truth in those stories. We see ourselves and others in the characters he creates.

Now, Garrison Keillor could never prove those stories ever actually happened, but we still know that's the way things really are. And that's why we listen, and connect, and respond. Those stories have meaning. The truth goes beyond the literal.

So, when it comes down to the Christmas story, what's true about it?

Well, if you mean, is it factual - is it history - is it something a 21st-century news reporter who had access to a time machine and could go back 2000 years and take pictures and interview the main characters, would she come back with photos of the Nativity scene, complete with a shining star overhead?

Well . . . I'm leaning toward no on that.

But does that make the story a lie that's not worth repeating, much less celebrating?

Or does that particular scene and cast of characters point us toward a bigger story - a truth that's larger than literal?

The truth that the special star in the night sky can mean the true light that enlightens every person.

The truth that the Gentile wise men traveling to the birthplace can mean that all people, regardless of race or nationality, are to be considered welcome.

The truth that the shepherds - the first to hear the news of this birth - can mean that even the poor and marginalized have an important place among us.

The truth that the miraculous, mysterious coming of a child can mean that any new life - and our own lives - are filled with wonder and the potential of renewal.

The truth that in even in the humblest of circumstances . . . even in dangerous times . . . even in a world filled with darkness and hatred . . . . that nothing is more powerful or enduring as love . . . and the very human need to give and receive it.

It's true that those themes are not unique to the Bible; that they're a particular expression of truths that are found in a variety of faiths and even among those who claim no religion.

If that were not so, the Christmas story wouldn't matter as much as it does.

It helps to have particularity; to hear about a baby's birth in that particular place and time and among that particular cast of characters. As people who connect with stories, we know that.

But it's never a requirement to believe in its historical accuracy, to still believe in what it represents.

For me, at least, that's why our Christmas tree still goes up every year, why we gather with family and friends and exchange gifts and good wishes, and why the Nativity Scene still has a place on the mantle.

Many, many thanks to Rev. David Green for allowing us to reprint his sermon from Sun., Dec. 6, 2009.