Many of you will hear or read again tonight the account of Jesus’ birth in the Gospel According to Luke. There’s the unplanned journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem, about 90 miles, which is quite a feat on foot and by donkey, especially during the late stages of pregnancy. Like many things in life, this journey was not something they chose; it was a legal mandate regarding a census and taxation.
Once in Bethlehem, of course, there was no place to stay. So, the couple found shelter with quiet animals, under silent stars, with little shelter or separation from the natural world. And there alone, far from their home in Nazareth, and at some remove from other people in the crowded inn, a child was born.
This is not just a story about something that happened far away and long ago. As Meister Eckhart said in the 14thcentury, “This birth is always happening. But if it doesn’t happen in me, what good is that to me? What matters is that it shall happen in me.” In other words, the story of the birth of the Divine is the story of something going on in all of humanity; it is your story and mine, and we know it well.
There is much about our lives that we do not choose and so much that we wish we could do over again. These unchosen events and nagging regrets frequently send us on a journey, away from the home we have made for ourselves in our Nazareth. The journey is often rough on us, and although we seek the company and understanding of others, we often find that the only place where we can truly rest and begin to come to our true life, to a deep sense of peace, is in a lonely place apart.
This is where our true life is born and nurtured. Of course, we need each other, we cherish signs in the flesh that our journey has been a sacred one and that the life coming to birth in us is holy. But our true life is inherently shy, and others will sometimes not understand it, so we have to cultivate a deeper and gentler way of discerning signs of affirmation. Such signs are everywhere. “Consider the birds of the air and the lilies of the field,” Jesus said. At his birth, there were signs in the heavens, signs that are best discerned in stillness, darkness, and quiet.
Yesterday, I read about a new biography of Ella Fitzgerald, one of the great jazz vocalists of all time. It’s entitled, Becoming Ella Fitzgerald. A review in The Wall Street Journal noted that one broadcaster who interviewed Ella near the end of her life marveled “how lonely a person can be who is worshipped by millions.”
Christ (the Divine, your true Self, Atman, Soul) stirs to life not on a stage among crowds but in your Bethlehem, in the most humble, remote, and still part of every human being. Given what society tells us is meaningful, becoming your true Self usually requires a journey. We have to get away from adulations as well as condemnations (your own and those of others). These are just obscuring fog and noise, making us believe that we are utterly alone.
But nothing could be further from the truth. We are talking about Emmanuel, which means “God with us.” This point of true light and life in you has nothing to do with the adulations of society, and it is forever untouched by your sin and failures. This true life simply persists deep within us all, stirring with gifts of compassion, freedom, and peace.
“If only we could see this secret beauty about who we are,” Thomas Merton wrote after his epiphany at Fourth and Walnut in Louisville. If only we could see this truth about ourselves and all human beings, “There would be no more war, no more hatred, no more cruelty, no more greed...I suppose the big problem would be that we would fall down and worship each other.”
The poet Gerard Manley Hopkins says something similar:
Christ plays in ten thousand places, Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his To the Father through the features of men's faces.
It is most important to realize that you can’t undo this reality and truth about who you are. The Divine Indwelling is simply a fact of your humanity. Emmanuel, God with us, is not something you make happen, it simply is. You can’t mess it up, no matter what you believe or do not believe; you can’t make it go away, no matter what you have done or left undone. This is an indelible truth about everyone, even your enemies.
But you can be still and welcome more fully this deepest truth about who you are – for your own well-being, yes, and for the well-being of everyone you love and for the world.
What a gift it is to be reverently still, silent, and attentive with many of you, joining in a brief time of recollection and calm, where our true life can once again stir to birth and find nurture in the beauty of holiness. We then return to a world in great need of gentle, awakened souls; that is, in need of your true life. Reverently making space to welcome this humble birth in yourself and in others is nothing less than the way of welcoming peace on earth.
The day after Christmas is such a welcome day of peace & quiet & I'm so grateful to read your beautiful reflection now...Christ Emmanuel always being born in us and everyone - Deo Gratias!!!
I’m glad that I had a quiet moment (post Christmas Eve) to read these thoughtful words about Christ’s birth. Thank you for providing understanding of our interconnectedness with this divine moment within us all.