A Pile Of Camels
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"A Pile of Camels" by C. David McKirachan
A Pile of Camels
by C. David McKirachan
Isaiah 60: 1-6
What do we hope for? Having come to this pinnacle of wisdom, I wonder sometimes. The clarity of youth’s simplistic vision has been swamped by making it through. What seemed so clear, now is full of issues of practicality and that pesky worm of compassion nagging me each time I slip into judgement. It’s been said that survival is a noble endeavor, but I want more than that. We all need more than that unless we are willing to limit our gaze to small horizons. In the midst of all the confusion of life, there is glory. It’s hard to bottle, but I yearn and reach for it.
This season of Christmas is full of the potential, the vibrating possibility of that glory. Most of the time there is so much hubbub and rush that we feel buried by all the craziness, anxiety, and scowls of unbelief that tangle us as we reach for the mysteries and the intimacies. I love the story of Christmas, a drama worthy of cliffhangers.
I was teaching a class on the Biblical roots of our Christmas icons. We were discussing the coming of the Magi. I told the class that the gift bringers weren’t kings, they were more like the NSA, reaching out of Persia to find a suitable candidate for the throne. We don’t know how many came, we only know that they brought three gifts, arriving as much as two years after Jesus’ birth, finding the holy family in a house, not the manger. One of the ladies of the church came to me after class to inform me she wouldn’t be coming to any more Bible studies. I inquired why and she told me she had three kings in her manger scene, and didn’t want to ruin her Christmas decorations. And that’s that!
Pile ’em on... How can we ‘Arise and shine...’ when everywhere we go we are assaulted by the issues and the paradox of living in a community of real people, who are busy living, surviving as best they can, just like we are? How can we claim glory when we’re so busy cleaning up from the ‘...herd of camels.’ that covers us?’
Part of the glory we are promised and indeed claim at Christmas is the coming home of family. Sons and daughters crowding in. It is the classic vision of the holiday to settle into the glow of shared joy, not necessarily happiness, but the joy of watching others share and being held in the palm of that sharing. It is the vision of home. Not all of us have that. The loneliness of this season is a grinding reminder of the isolation that our culture engenders. Even when we do get together we’re on schedules, following agendas that preclude appreciated moments. We hope that our gatherings will be beautiful and many times they are moments of exhaustion and disappointment. It’s like getting buried in a pile of camels. The smell alone is enough to kill you. But isn’t that what the church is built to be, a home? There is a line in the old Worship Book that I still use for weddings. “May these two build a home where no one is a stranger.” That is a hope and a dream full of the glory of the Good News, a hope that we can all claim.
But how can we focus on something that is so elusive and far off? The practicalities, conflictual and imposing as they are seem so powerful. And in spite of our best efforts, so often prejudices and fear dominate our best efforts, leaving us with hearts and houses empty of the warmth and glory that we seek.
The prophet seems so sure of himself. The vision is so clear. And perhaps we need to remember with him that this is not something that we must make happen, and more importantly it is something that we cannot do on our own. Christmas and its vision of glory, the gift of the Magi, however many there were, is a reality that has already happened. They came, not to make the gift happen. They came to acknowledge that they had seen the truth in the stars. God had and continues to act, to create, to display the glory of a love that makes a home where no one is a stranger. We don’t have to make it happen. We just have to proclaim, Christ is born! “God bless us every one.”
A blessed Epiphany!
Arise, shine, for your light has come!
C. David McKirachan is pastor of the Presbyterian Church at Shrewsbury in central New Jersey. He also teaches at Monmouth University. Two of his books, I Happened Upon a Miracle and A Year of Wonder, have been published by Westminster John Knox Press. McKirachan was raised in a pastor's home and he is the brother of a pastor, and he has discovered his name indicates that he has druid roots. Storytelling seems to be a congenital disorder. He lives with his 21-year-old son Ben and his dog Sam.
*****************************************
StoryShare, January 6, 2017, issue.
Copyright 2016 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
"A Pile of Camels" by C. David McKirachan
A Pile of Camels
by C. David McKirachan
Isaiah 60: 1-6
What do we hope for? Having come to this pinnacle of wisdom, I wonder sometimes. The clarity of youth’s simplistic vision has been swamped by making it through. What seemed so clear, now is full of issues of practicality and that pesky worm of compassion nagging me each time I slip into judgement. It’s been said that survival is a noble endeavor, but I want more than that. We all need more than that unless we are willing to limit our gaze to small horizons. In the midst of all the confusion of life, there is glory. It’s hard to bottle, but I yearn and reach for it.
This season of Christmas is full of the potential, the vibrating possibility of that glory. Most of the time there is so much hubbub and rush that we feel buried by all the craziness, anxiety, and scowls of unbelief that tangle us as we reach for the mysteries and the intimacies. I love the story of Christmas, a drama worthy of cliffhangers.
I was teaching a class on the Biblical roots of our Christmas icons. We were discussing the coming of the Magi. I told the class that the gift bringers weren’t kings, they were more like the NSA, reaching out of Persia to find a suitable candidate for the throne. We don’t know how many came, we only know that they brought three gifts, arriving as much as two years after Jesus’ birth, finding the holy family in a house, not the manger. One of the ladies of the church came to me after class to inform me she wouldn’t be coming to any more Bible studies. I inquired why and she told me she had three kings in her manger scene, and didn’t want to ruin her Christmas decorations. And that’s that!
Pile ’em on... How can we ‘Arise and shine...’ when everywhere we go we are assaulted by the issues and the paradox of living in a community of real people, who are busy living, surviving as best they can, just like we are? How can we claim glory when we’re so busy cleaning up from the ‘...herd of camels.’ that covers us?’
Part of the glory we are promised and indeed claim at Christmas is the coming home of family. Sons and daughters crowding in. It is the classic vision of the holiday to settle into the glow of shared joy, not necessarily happiness, but the joy of watching others share and being held in the palm of that sharing. It is the vision of home. Not all of us have that. The loneliness of this season is a grinding reminder of the isolation that our culture engenders. Even when we do get together we’re on schedules, following agendas that preclude appreciated moments. We hope that our gatherings will be beautiful and many times they are moments of exhaustion and disappointment. It’s like getting buried in a pile of camels. The smell alone is enough to kill you. But isn’t that what the church is built to be, a home? There is a line in the old Worship Book that I still use for weddings. “May these two build a home where no one is a stranger.” That is a hope and a dream full of the glory of the Good News, a hope that we can all claim.
But how can we focus on something that is so elusive and far off? The practicalities, conflictual and imposing as they are seem so powerful. And in spite of our best efforts, so often prejudices and fear dominate our best efforts, leaving us with hearts and houses empty of the warmth and glory that we seek.
The prophet seems so sure of himself. The vision is so clear. And perhaps we need to remember with him that this is not something that we must make happen, and more importantly it is something that we cannot do on our own. Christmas and its vision of glory, the gift of the Magi, however many there were, is a reality that has already happened. They came, not to make the gift happen. They came to acknowledge that they had seen the truth in the stars. God had and continues to act, to create, to display the glory of a love that makes a home where no one is a stranger. We don’t have to make it happen. We just have to proclaim, Christ is born! “God bless us every one.”
A blessed Epiphany!
Arise, shine, for your light has come!
C. David McKirachan is pastor of the Presbyterian Church at Shrewsbury in central New Jersey. He also teaches at Monmouth University. Two of his books, I Happened Upon a Miracle and A Year of Wonder, have been published by Westminster John Knox Press. McKirachan was raised in a pastor's home and he is the brother of a pastor, and he has discovered his name indicates that he has druid roots. Storytelling seems to be a congenital disorder. He lives with his 21-year-old son Ben and his dog Sam.
*****************************************
StoryShare, January 6, 2017, issue.
Copyright 2016 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
