God with us – no matter the neighborhood

Even if you don’t know much about Christianity, even if you haven’t been in a church in years, you know the story of Christmas.

It’s the story of God with us.

Not God aloof and distant, not God who recoils in disgust at human failure, not God who watches from afar, safely removed from our messes.

Christmas tells us instead that God comes close. God chooses presence.

“Immanuel” means “God with us.” God with us in all our flesh-and-blood realities and messiness. God with us.

We see that “with us” in the life of Jesus. Jesus with the prostitutes and the lepers and the outcasts in whose company Jesus would delight. Jesus with the little children whose warm brows he touched and blessed.

From the beginning, God makes it clear: we are all noticed, known, and loved.

This tells us something about God, and who God is. God didn’t come to punish, or frighten, or scold, or threaten, or any of the other things that are often attributed to God!

Instead, God came to tell us that we are loved, deeply, truly, and forever.

And just to make sure we got the point, God first brought that message to people at the bottom of the barrel: no account shepherds, an unwed teenage mom, astrologers practicing a whole different religion.

These are the kind of people that would make you feel good about yourself in comparison.

The shepherds for example: shepherding had become a profession most likely to be filled from the bottom rung of the social ladder, by persons who could not find what was regarded as decent work.

Faithful Jews were warned by their rabbis against shepherding! Society stereotyped shepherds as liars, degenerates, and thieves, not to mention they walked through sheep droppings and were religiously unclean. The testimony of shepherds was not admissible in court.

These are the ones to whom the angels came. And so that even these lowliest of people would not be frightened, God came in the most unobtrusive manner, a vulnerable baby.

Jesus comes vulnerably, helplessly, born on the road and laid in a feeding trough. All of this to show that God wasn’t going to leave anyone behind. That God’s message of love was for all and that it is very real.

As in everyone, whether the world thought you were important or lovable or not.

Once when my kids were young I was walking through a rather disturbing section of a large city, having parked far away from where I intended to go.

Pimps and prostitutes were out in full force, along with the drug dealings pushing their wares. I was concerned with the kids, my treasure, in the midst of all this trash.

As I steered them through the riffraff, the thought suddenly occurred to me that each of these too, these pimps and prostitutes and sellers of heroin, is someone’s child, somebody’s treasure.

The kids were staring wide eyed at the unusual outfits as we passed through. Then we came across a little church wedged between liquor stores.

Service times were stenciled on crumbling brick wall. A torn and tacky “Jesus Saves” banner flapped against the brick.

It wasn’t the Christianity I was used to, but it did catch my attention. Why? Because it was trying to communicate to that addicted and unhealthy slice of humanity the burning message that even here, especially here, the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, filled with grace and truth.

Even into the darkest corners of humanity Christ’s light shines. God made flesh – Emmanuel, God WITH US. And because of that, there is hope. No matter who we are. No matter what we’ve done. We are God’s treasures.

Merry Christmas

About the author: Rev. Sharon Smith is the pastor of St. Paul’s Lutheran Church. She is an early rising morning person who does not drink coffee (yes, really), believes God is fond of showing up in unexpected places, and is almost always rewriting a sermon in her head while walking the dogs. She is still surprised and thankful that God insists on moving into the neighborhood rather than keeping a safe distance.

Contact Sharon at tct@pageone-inc.com