Sermon by Bishop Paul Marshall
Cathedral Church of the Nativity, Bethlehem
Christmas Eve 2012
5:00 p.m. Eucharist
have been coincidentally reminded several times this week that it was here in the
Lehigh Valley that I have celebrated my only Spanish confirmation service,
along with two of my few Spanish eucharists. Learning to say the Spanish
liturgy is not hard—the major trick for somebody with my background is to remember
that it is NOT Latin. What was the more complex gift to me in getting involved
in that phase of Trinity Easton’s ministry was learning more of the customs of
Latino Christians so that my halting conversations with them could be a little
more meaningful. And they were generous in teaching. Not surprisingly, many
Latino church customs are a unique blend of non- or pre-Christian culture with
the overall faith of the Church, just as are many familiar customs that are
imported, such as the Advent Wreath and Christmas Tree that come from Germans. When
cultures mix with faith, powerful traditions grow.
is a Central American custom that I hope we will pick up as the culture of the
USA becomes more diverse. It is an observance of the nine days before Christmas
as Las Posadas, the dwellings. It is originally from Spain, but in troubled
America Central it took on a certain
is, people who have deep memories of oppression, homelessness, and persecution,
gravitate naturally to the fact that when Joseph and Mary as poor people sought
shelter, they had to take whatever hospitality they could get, if they could
get it. When at long last Mary and Joseph got to Bethlehem, there was no room
for such as them as they went from inn to inn. “No room for them” should be read
as “no room for THEM,” as it was anciently a polite expression of contempt.
They were poor, dirty from travel, and there were rumors about her. And just as
they flashed on in this country in the 1950s, the motel sign repeatedly switched
to “no vacancy” when the couple from Nazareth appeared. So they wandered,
seeking La Posada, seeking some
on the nine evenings of Las Posadas,
Dec 16-24, Latino people practice going to each other’s dwellings, and the
hospitality they celebrate is an affirmation of decency and compassion. It is
also defiance of anything in human nature that rejects Christ by denying, marginalizing
and ignoring those who are even a little different. Especially children. They
ask at each place they visit, “¿dónde
está la posada?,” where is the dwelling? Wouldn’t the world be different if
we asked that of ourselves each day.
are regional variations on Las Posadas,
but in each version the heartbreak of Mary and Joseph’s story is felt yet
overcome. The end of the story on these nights is that Joseph and Mary are
recognized as who they are, lights are lit, and there is general rejoicing.
Central American people celebrate Las
Posadas, they celebrate the light, celebrate hospitality, and then party
with the kids. (There are plenty of YouTubes you can watch.) They remember
together that sure, it was only a stable, but someone was decent enough to let
the very pregnant Mary have a shelter in which to have a baby. From that shared
space comes a great joy which shall be for all people.
ends up with parties for the children and the famous piñata appears: nobody ever needs to apologize for enjoying
children, and, ahem, especially grandchildren.
it was quite a move on God’s part to
enter the world as a child, and in that child come to save us, wasn’t it? God
knows that we are at our most receptive when we encounter a child, and
as we sing Silent Night every heart opens a crack more toward a deeper
relationship with our maker and redeemer. There is chance to open ours wide.
Where is the dwelling we make for him?
the children, though, the nine days of Las
Posadas are nine days about ritually remembering being outcast,
marginalized, unwanted and rejected. It is about remembering that all three of
the stories we hear in church tonight were told in times of threat and pain. Almost
every group in America has experienced alienation at one time or another. In Las Posadas, each of us remembers our
ancestors journeying, whether that journey was voluntary or in chains. Each of
us remembers that nobody creates their own life and that we are redeemed because
of a simple act of ancient hospitality by which Christ could enter the world.
most of all, in a difficult and tragic year in our country, we may wish to remember
the light and the piñata at the end
of Las Posadas. It is in the darkness
that we best see the light. As to the strangers themselves, we remember that
Jesus had in mind our own coming to life spiritually when he told us, “whatever
you do the least of my brothers and sisters you do to me.” The Posada Principle, if Robert Ludlum wrote
would spend his life at the margins of society, would usually have no place to
sleep unless friends helped him out. He lived and worked largely among those
whom he called “the lost sheep of the House of Israel.” He, poor as he was, says
to them and to each of us that we should come to him with our burdens and he
will refresh us. He gives us new life by sharing his life, sharing his life of
prayer and care for the sick and needy, sharing his life by pouring it out for
of us need cheering up this season? Think of Las Posadas and welcome Jesus, Mary and Joseph and see if it
doesn’t help. Smile at a stranger as you walk around the corner at New Bethany.
Sign up for “Home for Supper” on Jan 25 at Nativity and you could enter someone
else’s dwelling for the first time, mindful of what is being enacted. The next
time you give a hand-out on the street or serve somebody at a soup kitchen, tell
them your name and ask them theirs. The simplest things can point to the ancient
Bethlehem dwelling that takes us all under its roof.
more than that, when we remember this night’s events in Bethlehem of Judea, the
light the star and the radiance the angels shed change the way we look at those
around; it changes the way we see those struggling in any way with life; it
especially changes how we see the physically needy and endangered, the people
who at this very moment live under the Hill-to-Hill Bridge, the New Street
Bridge, the parking garages…and the people who will this week come to churches
like Nativity for shelter on the coldest nights of the year.
who know the light of Christ find our brightest moments when we give home and
hospitality to the souls and bodies of all we meet.
¿Dónde está la posada?
to heart] Está aqui.