First Sunday after Christmas, Year C: Clothed in Wisdom and Compassion

Written By Shawn Sanford Beck

Shawn Sanford Beck

In this first Sunday after Christmas, chances are that the people in your pews (or grove) will be small in number.  The excitement of the preceding season, with its innumerable parties, carols, cookies, lights, overindulgence … and then finally its profound and cosmic joy of the great feast of nativity and incarnation … all of that leaves us breathless.  One might be forgiven a Sunday morning sleep-in, and hence the potential sparsity of the congregation.

Which is too bad, because the readings this morning are packed full of divine goodness!  Between the birth in Bethlehem and the coming of the Magi, we do a quick time-skip and fast-forward to the Christ-child’s coming of age twelve years later.  And we jump back a thousand years previous, to Samuel, another precocious child of the Temple tradition.  The lections also give us planetary praise songs, and plenty of love-mysticism.  It really isn’t a morning to be missed!  So buckle up as we unwrap the mysteries of this under-appreciated first Sunday after Christmas…

Commentary 

  • This short lection, tiny and touching, is actually packed full of meaning when the larger context is considered.  Earlier in the story, Hannah has brought her young child to the elderly priest Eli, at Shiloh.  She is bringing Samuel to fulfil the vow she had previously made, that she would “donate” the child who came in answer to her heartfelt prayer to God.  In the presence of YHVH, Hannah sings her song of praise, which sounds remarkably like the Magnificat which would come from Mary’s lips a thousand years later.  “My heart exults in the Lord,” sings Hannah, “my strength is exalted in my God.  He raises up the poor from the dust; he lifts the needy from the ash heap, to make them sit with princes and inherit a seat of honour.”   By placing this reading in the lectionary for this particular Sunday, the church is drawing a strong connection between the birth of Christ just celebrated, and the fulfilment of divine promise among the truly vulnerable through the ages.

    In addition to “pre-echoing” the Nativity, this reading also contains an interesting reference to the liturgical vestments of ancient Israelite priesthood.  The text tells us that while ministering in the presence of God, the boy Samuel would wear an ephod of linen.  An ephod is a particular type of vestment, a sort of apron which would be worn over a robe.  The fact that linen is mentioned adds to its significance: linen-making, then and now, is an extremely labour-intensive process.  My wife Janice, a weaver, is currently learning how to make linen.  It involves growing and harvesting flax, retting, braking, and hackling the fibre, spinning it, and dying it with herbs and other local ingredients.  It is hard work!  So when the scriptures mention that something is made of linen, we need to pay attention, as a higher value is being signified.

    This linen ephod, which had oracular connotations as well as priestly ones, symbolized  Samuel’s dedication to the life of prayer even as a child.  The reading notes touchingly that as Samuel grew, Hannah would “make for him a little robe and take it to him each year.”  This is a lovely detail, but sentimentality can sometimes obscure the skill and craft which was involved in such handiwork.  Weaving has always been a mystical art, and weavers are known to intertwine incantation and blessing into their fabric as they work it.  Even today, the tradition of prayer shawls in church continues this largely occulted form of spiritual labour.

    Furthermore, although Samuel would not be wearing the robe of the high priest, there were already traditions evolving which linked the weaving of the liturgical robes and the weaving of temple veils with the four elements of creation.  Biblical scholar Margaret Barker, in her Temple Theology, draws out those connections.  With this link in mind between priestly traditions in Israel and the cosmological work of prayer and worship, we can turn to the rich beauty of the psalm appointed for this Sunday…

  • This exuberant song of praise is one of the most obvious and explicit writings of all scripture to demonstrate or “prove” an animist worldview within our biblical heritage.  And yet, how often have interpreters and preachers simply explained away such a powerful passage as “metaphorical”, as if the more-than-human creation is not capable of offering praise in direct relationship to God.  Bah!  I say … Humbug!  Of course we are to take this psalm literally.  If anything is fully true within our faith, there are two things: that God is Love, and that the whole creation lives to praise the divine name.

    This psalm is filled with such joy, and provides a panoramic view of the whole created order, from angels, animals, cosmic beings, weather systems, monsters, trees, and even humans … the whole shebang … all singing praise to the Holy One.  This is an image which prefigures and anticipates the celebration of Epiphany soon to come, where stars, angels, shepherds, farm animals, and pagan wizards all gather round the Christ-child in the manger.

    But there is also one voice which is hidden: our own!  Yes, humans are named, but there is one (actually multiple) who is proclaiming this psalm.  In reading, singing, praying these words, we are taking on the priestly role in this cosmic liturgy.  We are presiding, we are giving the liturgical “call to worship” to the whole universe around us.  When we call out “Praise the Lord” (Alleluia!) we are not just giving praise to God ourselves; more accurately we are calling on other worshippers (in this case, all of creation) to offer their praise.  This is a verb in the imperative!  

  • And here we go, back to that robe and ephod of Samuel mentioned in the first reading.  The author of Colossians is drawing on a long history of vestment-mysticism in creating this metaphor of “putting on” the renewed self in Christ, with all of its virtues.  This isn’t just a superficial fashion motif … it is the priestly vestiture which is being invoked here.  The author encourages us to “clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience … and above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.”   This harmony is not only to be thought of as healthy interpersonal engagement within the community of the church (although it is at least that).  But “harmony” is to be understood in its widest and most cosmic sense.  This is an Orphic harmony, a Pythagorean resonance which binds the universe together.  It is the harmony of the “music of the spheres”.  Again, returning to the priestly tradition of Israelite vestments, recall that the robes are woven in a manner which symbolizes the cosmos.  This is the very harmony which has been torn asunder by human (and angelic?) sin, resulting in the ecological and social devastation of our time.  The call to clothe ourselves in this cosmic harmony-healing Divine Love is more than a pastoral poke-in-the-shoulder; it is a mandate for the renewal of the world.

    “And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in the one body.”  For those with eyes to see, ears to hear, and a heart that beats with compassion for Mother Earth and all her children, this One Body is much more than the church (though it is at least that) … this One Body is the Body of Godde, incarnate in the whole universe. 

  • Although it has been a mere few days since we celebrated the birth of Christ as a tiny infant in Bethlehem, our gospel lection this Sunday transports us forward twelve years, to observe Jesus as a precocious tween in the Temple.  This is a cheeky take on what it means for someone to “increase in wisdom and in years and in divine and human favour.”  Apparently, for some humans, maturation entails giving your family the slip, interrogating your elders, and making strange sideways ontological claims to divinity!  That was Jesus’ strategy, in any case.

    It is somewhat customary in contemporary biblical scholarship to point out how negative Jesus often was toward the Jerusalem Temple.  This is true, to a point.  He, like many of his Jewish kin, was critical of Herod’s great project.  Jesus complained about the moneychangers in the Temple, he disliked its opulent officials, and he prophesied its destruction with a certain amount of vehemence.  On the other hand, it is important to remember that Jesus was also a child of the Temple tradition.  He was part of the “Line of David” and his family made the annual pilgrimage as part of their village life.  He was “zealous for the House of the Lord”, and spent much time preaching and teaching in its courts.  The reading this morning gives his clearest statement of loyalty to the Temple: “Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father's house?"

    For Jesus, the Temple is indeed the House of God.  And yet he is also clearly aware of his people’s insistence that all of Creation is the Temple of God.  These two things are only contradictory for those who misunderstand the relationship between microcosm and macrocosm in temple-based societies.  The Temple is not just one place among many, it is the cosmic place.  It represents, in an almost sacramental way, the whole created order.  Each ritual, each vestment, each bit of “holy hardware” represents a certain aspect of the universe.  In other words, the Temple is a microcosm.  For Jesus to claim a place in his “Father’s house” means that he is also stating his role in the wider world of Israel and beyond.  I believe we are invited by this pericope to imagine Jesus equally at home in the “wider Temple” of his Mother’s House: God’s good creation.  And so are we, along with all of Jesus’ more-than-human kin!

Themes and Preaching Ideas

  • “Growing in ecological wisdom”:  The reading from the book of Samuel and the reading from Luke’s gospel both reference a young person growing in wisdom and in the favour of God and of their own kin.  We know that this “growing” doesn’t stop once a person becomes an adult (or an elder, for that matter!)  The preacher might invite the congregation to consider their own faith journey, and ask how they are doing with the lifelong-learning of Christian discipleship.  Programs and resources which highlight ecological spirituality and watershed discipleship could be mentioned as real possibilities for congregants to grow in faith.  If you were feeling particularly bold, you could reference a bit more of Samuel’s story, and contrast his own growing wisdom with that of Eli’s biological sons who had corrupted their priestly status and were exploiting the people (a little analogy to late industrial techno-capitalism anyone?)

  • “Alleluia! Invoking the planetary choir”:  Many contemporary Indigenous elders and knowledge keepers are reminding us that the ceremonies of the two-leggeds are important for the ongoing life of the more-than-human people in our neighbourhoods, networks,  and foodsheds.  The plant and animal spirits seem to take some type of sustenance from our songs, dances, and prayers when offered with healing intention from the heart.  There is a mutuality and reciprocity of blessing which we are invited into, as we come home to the Land.  For Christians, there is something important we need to learn both from the First People of Turtle Island and from the Temple traditions of our spiritual ancestors in Israel.  Prayer is not just for humans.  It is for all our relations, and it is especially for the healing of the Land, and for living with respect in Creation.  As we explore this Sunday’s psalm, we might imagine ourselves calling forth the planetary choir, and taking our place as – not masters, not even stewards – but priest/esses and chaplains of the cosmos.

  • “Putting on the robe of compassion”:  Because of the physical nature of clothing, this could be a very good teaching tool for “children’s time” or “time for all ages”.  Bring along some easy-to-don clothing, perhaps the shepherds’ bathrobes from the Christmas pageant, or some big shirts, and possibly some hats.  If appropriate to your tradition, bring out some vestment items such as copes, chasubles, and stoles as well.  Begin by reviewing the Colossians reading in a short accessible form, and ask participants to imagine Christian virtues such as compassion, patience, courage, curiosity, generosity, etc (these don’t have to be the same as what is listed in the reading … feel free to go beyond) being “attached” to each vestment or item of clothing.  Invite participants, one at a time, to put on an item of clothing, and imagine that they are “wearing” that particular virtue.  What does it feel like?  How might they act differently in the world, clothed with that virtue?  Close by inviting the children and the whole congregation to imagine themselves fully wrapped in a robe or blanket of God’s Love, and then imagine that Love blanketing the whole world.

Sources/Resources

Contributor Bio

The Rev. Shawn Sanford Beck is an ecumenical priest and Candidate for the Order of Ministry in the United Church of Canada.  He lives in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan (Treaty Six Territory) and serves as GreenSpirit Chaplain within the Living Skies Region and beyond.  Shawn has been active in eco-spirituality and ChristoPagan reflection for decades.  He is the author of Christian Animism, co-author of A Prairie Rune, and blogs at https://ecosophian.wordpress.com/ .  Feel free to connect with him at greenpriest@hotmail.ca  or over here at https://linktr.ee/greenpriest 

Image and attribution

Lynx Singer by Thomas Wolter, Pixabay free use license (a beautiful lynx, perhaps singing Alleluia?)

Shawn Sanford Beck
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