Feast of Saint Stephen/ Second Day within the Octave of the Nativity of the Lord
Gospel: Mt 10:17-22
This Christmas, the story of God’s Love revealed in Jesus’ birth resonates powerfully in my spirit.
I am still reeling from the results of the presidential election. It is unfathomable to me that millions of my neighbors voted for a man who is so cruel, so power-hungry, and so incompetent. I am terrified to imagine what the coming years might bring for me and my beloveds, especially those of us who are queer, trans, and disabled, those who may become pregnant, and people of color.
When I think about it, Mary and Joseph - Jewish people under Roman occupation - might have felt similarly. Jewish communities were being exploited and destroyed throughout the Roman Empire. And Mary, as a pregnant, unmarried woman, would have been particularly vulnerable to violence and neglect. (It’s worth noting here that God gave Mary a choice about whether to become pregnant. It’s not a stretch to imagine that God wants everyone to have that same choice. But I digress.)
It is into the terror and tyranny of state violence and domination hat God came to earth. Out of the entire universe and timescape, God joined those who needed God most: a poor, migrant family, temporarily homeless, who would soon leave their homeland to flee genocide.
Even so, God’s entry in human form did not immediately dispel the harsh reality of the Jewish people. Our Gospel reading today, recorded many years after Jesus’ birth, paints a bleak picture. Jesus’ followers would be arrested and tortured, at war with their families, hated by many, fighting to the death. These aren’t exactly “tidings of comfort and joy;” this is apocalyptic stuff.
In seminary, I learned that “apocalypse” comes from the Greek word “apokalýptein,” meaning “to uncover” or “to reveal.” That’s relevant here because what happened in our country in the election was a revealing for some of us of what the oppressed have always known: this country’s lifeforce is and has forever been white supremacy, colonization, domination of women, and eradication of difference.
I woke up the morning after the election once, twice, three times. Each time, I pulled the covers further over my head and silenced my alarm. I saw the barrage of texts on my lock screen and simply could not open them. I was too overwhelmed.
And yet. When I finally faced the messages, I was met with love. Text after text from family, from community, from beloveds, with this message: “I love you.” From my mom. From my chosen family. From my spouse. From dear ones in Maine and New York and Tennessee and Massachusetts and Minneapolis and more.
The apocalypse - the revealing - is now, and we must choose how we respond. For me, the answer is Love. Deep and honest Love. Consistent and reliable Love. Love that goes out of its way to find you on your darkest days to remind you that you are not alone.
For me, that Love is God, in the enfleshed and embodied divinity of Jesus, with the awe of the Creator and the companionship of the Spirit. For you, that magical, mystical Love-force might be found elsewhere. But wherever you find it, here in the octave of Christmas and beyond, may you know Love. May you be Love. And may Love set us all free.
Allison Connelly-Vetter currently serves as the Interim Director for Children, Youth, & Family Ministries at a large congregation in Minneapolis, MN.
