Divine Laughter
Luke 2.8-11, John 1.1-5, 9-14, and Philippians 2.5-7
“In the December darkness we peer from our windows watching for an angel with rainbow wings to announce the Hope of the World.” From In December Darkness by Ann Weems
In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. – Luke 2.8-11
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it… The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God. And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory… – John 1.1-5, 9-14
Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. Philippians 2.5-7
A Story Worth the Telling
Hope is a wonderful thing! Never satisfied to embrace empty wishes for something that could be or something that might be, hope melds longing with expectation and dares to wait confidently for its heart’s desire.
Hope is a wonderful thing, and hope characterizes our Christmas story; that mysterious, enticing tale that speaks to us from the past, yet speaks not simply of a world that once was, but rather of a world that lives still, a world in which we can make our home. Each year at this time we wait in December’s darkness for a glimpse of the last star shining, God’s Holy Light that warms and illumines our spirits; and each year at this time we begin a pilgrimage to Bethlehem to kneel before the crèche and hear the voice of the one whose birth signals our own.
This is a story worth the telling, is it not? John, at least, thought so, and chose to begin his Gospel with its narration. It’s true that his bent toward philosophical images deprives the story of its human drama – there are no shepherds, no angels, no Magi… not even a donkey! – but John captures its essence in one powerful statement, “And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory…” What a marvelous, awe inspired exclamation! God has been born as one of us, John says, and – miracle of miracles – we have recognized it… we have seen God’s glory shining through this man!
Paul, too, thought this story worth the telling; but his slant was different still. In his letter to the Philippians, for example, he highlights the sacrifice of love that this birth initiates. “Let the same mind be in you,” he begins, “that was in Christ Jesus, who though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness…” Here, again, lays exposed to our view the heart of Christmas; its mysterious, paradoxical, almost unbelievable heart. Motivated by a Love that knows no limits, that is to say, God humbly and voluntarily shed the robes of divinity and became one of us. It’s no wonder Luke’s version of the Christmas story puts this announcement in the mouths of angels, for it is surely a heavenly message!
It is worth the telling, our Christmas story, and it appears that it can be told in many ways; each profound in its own right. This makes me wonder, however, just how this story would be told if we took hints from John and Paul, and wove it into that one grand story that courses through all others, the story of God? How might that story be told? Perhaps something like this:
The Last Star Shining
In the beginning – or even before the beginning if that makes sense – there was God. That’s it; God. There were no stars to adorn the night sky, and there was no sky to be adorned. There was no sun to rise above the world’s horizon signaling a glorious, new day, and no world to greet this divine herald. But that was okay, because God was perfectly content, complete, and whole. God’s heart, you see, burned with a Light that warmed and illumined from the inside out, and God’s Spirit swelled with Joy.
And that’s where it all began, with God’s Joy; because it eventually – and inevitably – overflowed its source. Some say that God breathed Spirit into the void; others that God spoke into that void. But if we had been there, we would know that God laughed; God’s Spirit overflowed with a rich, divine laughter that left life in its path. God’s laughter echoed through the void and a universe sprang forth, a universe full of songbirds and sailors, mountains and mystics, daylight and darkness, rivers and raccoons, black holes and maypoles, damsels and their heroes, thunder and wonder, and all was marked by joy!
God gazed on this marvelous creation and laughed again… woops! more life. God couldn’t help it – God can’t help it – for God to be is to create; to laugh joyfully again and again into any void that appears, filling it with life. God gazed on this marvelous creation and was strangely attracted to one creature that seemed very much like God; made in God’s image, perhaps. So, God befriended these creatures – women, men, and children alike – and even allowed them to stand in for God, charging them to care for the rest of the creation.
If all this sounds too good to be true, it was; for God’s chosen creatures, like God, were free, and in freedom chose to abandon God. Foolish as it may seem, humankind turned from the light to walk in darkness; women, men, and children covered their ears to block the sound of divine laughter, the very laughter that alone could fulfill their lives and fill them with joy.
Was God angered this choice? No. Was God tempted to end it all right there and show them just who was boss? …Well, maybe for a moment; but when all is said and done God is God, and God’s heart was broken. All the creation, you see, including those special creatures, represents God’s own family; all of the creation is made from the very stuff of God. So, God wept at the sight of all the carnage called forth by humankind from the underbelly of creation: estrangement, exile, greed, anger, hatred, violence… was there no end to this malady, no end to this empty parody of life?
(The story from this point is dependent on a sermon by Barbara Brown Taylor)
It seemed that there was no end… that there could be no end, unless God ended it. So, God watched and God wept. For eons it seemed, God watched and wept; but through it all continued to love these creatures and strove within for a way to regain their trust, a way to demonstrate clearly that Divine Love knows no limits and will settle for nothing less than fullness of life for each one of them. Finally, in a flash of insight God exclaimed, I will become as my creatures; I will share their fate, regain their trust, and above all demonstrate that my love is theirs now and for always.
A novel idea, this. A novel and, perhaps, dangerous idea; for God to become human, sharing its risks, its frailties! So, God called together heaven’s brain trust – rank upon rank of angels – and ran the plan by them. An excellent plan, so far as it goes, one angel remarked. But it’s too dangerous; it has no safeguards. What if something goes wrong? What if you are rejected, or worse, assaulted by these ungrateful creatures? No, we angels cannot recommend that you follow through with this plan.
But God thought otherwise, and as if to avoid a change of heart, swiftly left the assembly, shedding divine robes in haste; rich, blue robes whose stars – all save one – were strewn helter-skelter on the floor. Before the angels could respond, however, before they could block the door and reason with God to stop this foolishness, the stars burned holes in the floor, and the angels, peering through in curiosity, looked down on a pasture shrouded with darkness and scattered here and there with sheep, and on a small band of shepherds warming themselves by a fire.
Sensing their fear the angels spoke gently to the shepherds. Don’t be afraid, one began, we mean you no harm. In fact, another chimed in, we bring good news, joyful news; for this very night a savior is born for you, your – oh, what’s their word; oh yes – your Messiah. Turning in fear to flee this dreadful apparition, the shepherds froze in their tracks at the sight of one last star shining in the night sky illuminating their village; and then they heard, drifting on the night wind from somewhere in the village, the sound of a newborn baby laughing.
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