Mary's Tired Feet in the Time of Trump

You think it's tough being a progressive liberal in the time of Trump, try being a Jew under Roman occupation a couple of thousand years ago.

Mary was just a teenager, finding herself pregnant and attached to Joseph who was probably just as bewildered as she was. As if that weren't enough, they had to walk - WALK - from Nazareth to Bethlehem to take part in a census. They didn't have cars in those days, or buses. The mythology presumes they had a donkey, but there is no scriptural evidence of that. Even if they did, one donkey for two people, one of whom was pregnant, wasn't going to speed things up much. As part of an occupied people, they didn't have any choice in the matter. They had to go.

We always see the beautiful creche, so lovely and serene, with angels floating above, gentle farm animals laying about (again, no scriptural basis, except for sheep, which can be inferred by the presence of the shepherds). We don't think much about the walk. The dusty, sweaty walk to Bethlehem and how dirty their feet must have been, and how tired and sore those feet were. Much is made of foot washing in the Gospel. That is why. When you walk everywhere in sandals on dusty unpaved roads, your feet get pretty dirty. Add to that a late term pregnancy. Can you imagine the misery?

And then, to reach your destination only to find that there are no vacancies at any of the inns. Wouldn't that just about push you over the limit?

The storytellers who passed the Gospels down first orally, then in writing, must have glossed over it a bit. After all, this was about the birth of Jesus Christ. It would be unseemly to portray Mary as exhausted and Joseph as grouchy. But if there's any truth to the story, you know they were at the end of their rope when they reached Bethlehem and thought they couldn't go on, only they had to. It had to be a relief to finally be able to take shelter in nothing more than a stupid barn.

I don't know much about childbirth, but I'm sure a barn is less than ideal.

Veneration of Christ as the divine Messiah is all well and good, but the point of the Christmas story is to show that Jesus was born as a person sent by God to live among regular human beings so that we could relate to him, and he to us. If Jesus's mother could have dirty tired feet, if she could be exhausted and even grouchy, then I can relate to that.

Jesus didn't grow up in a royal household, surrounded by privilege and luxury. He probably lived a middle class life at best, educated and cared for, but hardly spoiled. We don't know a lot about his early life, but his parents weren't rich. They most likely worked hard, lost their patience occasionally, but did the best they could.

There were always the Romans to deal with. Those oppressors who would eventually arrest and execute Jesus, who would himself suffer exhaustion, pain, and even death at their hands.

I don't care whether the story is literally true. It's a great story. It inspires me, as it has others for many hundreds of years, to try to keep our own exhaustion, our dirty feet, our pain, our perseverance, and even our deaths, in perspective.

Because it doesn't end there. Jesus's life and death, his exhaustion, his parents' dirty feet, his sacrifice meant something. It reminds us that human though we are, as Jesus was sent as God to live among us, we are made in the image of God to live among each other. He brought, and brings, hope, healing, and love to a broken, suffering world. We are meant to do the same.

I am depressed about what is happening in the world today. To keep from falling into utter hopelessness this week, I'm meditating on Mary's tired feet. How she must have wondered if she could continue. But she carried hope, healing, and love within her. She had to go on.

The Truth Behind the Christmas Myth

“My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior… He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly.”
- Mary, mother of Jesus, in the Gospel of Luke, Chapter 1

Some expected the messiah to come in a huge, apocalyptic ball of fire swallowing up evil doers. Others expected a new King, dressed in a purple royal robe, riding in on a fine white horse with a huge righteous army to overthrow the corrupt government.

When John the Baptist started to publicly repeat the prophecies of Isaiah, it caught the attention of the religious power elite (perhaps the equivalents of our Pat Robertson or the Pope). The idea of a messiah coming to upset the status quo was distressing to them. Their power was threatened. But John was too elated to care what they thought. "I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, 'Make straight the way of the Lord'".

Mary's words in the Gospel of Luke (the Song of Mary, or Magnificat) are meant to be sung. She rejoices in being blessed with the chance to serve God. She magnifies the Lord.

Most mainline American Protestants are not good at expressing faith with outward joy. At best, we might utter a monotone litany of praise.

Rather than reflect quietly on the meaning of it all, we could be moved, inspired by John's and Mary's joy, to proclaim to the world that our Savior is coming to save us from the darkness of sin.

The “S” word.

Please don't cringe or roll your eyes at the mention of sin.

Sin is nothing more, and nothing less, than separating ourselves from God.

This estrangement is at the root of bad things like hate, discrimination, dishonesty, abuse, oppression, racism, all the "isms," - and things less dramatic, like just being so busy that we don't seem to have time to care for the people around us.

As human beings, we are always to some degree, separated from God.

But as Christians, we believe that while we don't always see God or feel God's presence or grace, and though we neglect to remember God through prayer and deed, God never forgets us - God never leaves us.

Of course, life doesn't turn into a fairyland of gum drops and lollipops the minute we remember that God loves us. We continue to live in a tough, churning world. But the knowledge that God hasn't turned a cold shoulder gives us the chance to hope and to have courage and to take steps to overcome the separation. This is grace.

This time of year, we remember the promise that God loves us so much that he sent a simple, human representative to share that grace with us.

Don’t get hung up on whether it literally happened. The truth behind the myth is valid. The story conveys God’s love in a way that we can understand.

Jesus was said to be a simple sandal wearing man, wandering through the country, like John the Baptist, peacefully challenging structures of oppression, upsetting the status quo, caring for the reviled sick and outcast, feeding the hungry, nurturing the poor in spirit with teaching and compassion – things that we should do ourselves, today.

This is more revolutionary than if Jesus were a King with a big army. This is revolutionary because it was and is done without the threat of hellfire. It is done without bombs or violence. In fact, power isn't taken from the authorities as much as it is given to those who never had it before. The power is rooted in the knowledge that nothing, nothing separates us from God.

This message of freedom and love is how Christ continues to live among us. No wonder we are excited.

And our excitement, our elation, like Mary's, moves us to throw up our arms and sing for joy.

We celebrate the birth of a savior who, because we Christians live in his name, because he lives in us, empowers us to share that freely given grace by fighting for justice, working for peace, and living as an example to others.

Our souls magnify the Lord this Christmas. And sincere Christians everywhere, despite our differences, proclaim the coming of a Savior, the triumph over sin, and the anticipation of joy.