It was our team’s final weekly prayer call of 2015, just a
couple of days before Christmas Eve. I dialed in a few minutes late, expecting
to hear a cheery devotional, or the infancy narratives from Matthew’s or Luke’s
gospels being read. Instead, in seeming rapid fire were a succession of three
scripture-plus-reflection-plus-prayer meditations concerning some of the
world’s toughest places, reflections on the Prince of Peace juxtaposed against
conflict and war and refugee migrations… Syria, South Sudan, the Central
African Republic.
I’ve had a couple of very busy weeks, and frankly I wasn’t
terribly excited to get morose at the start of my day… And at this point you’re
probably weighing whether or not to keep reading this, for the same reason. But
there is something very right about taking off our cheery veneer of the
idealized Christmas, nothing allowed that’s not merry and bright.
That’s the Christmas where everything is magical and
perfectly ordered for our children, or else we consider ourselves to have
failed them. Last week, a colleague who is also a mom said that she’s
been thinking about the mothers living in Syrian refugee camps, especially the
Christian moms there who might also be feeling this pressure to “produce”
Christmas for their own children amidst the insecurity and discomfort of life
in a relief tent. She said, “I look at my nativity scene at home, and the roof
over the manger reminds me of a tent. So I’ve decided this year to remember
those refugee moms whenever I look at the scene, and I pray for them that they
might get beyond their surroundings and all that they are not able to provide
for their children, to find the comfort and joy in the Christmas story despite
their circumstances.”
We were with a World Vision supporter at the time, and in
the holy silence afterward, all he and I could say was “Thank you.”
I extended a similar thank-you today to the colleague who
led our somber devotion time. Thank you for reminding me again that it’s
not about tossing a plastic Baby Jesus on top of the pile of Christmas gifts
and raising a glass in thanksgiving to our comfort. I cringe inside every
time someone says, “When I look at all the problems around the world, all I can
think is how thankful I am to live here.”
The Incarnation is the exact antithesis, a complete
repudiation, of that sentiment… Jesus proactively giving up all power, comfort,
and fellowship with the Father in order to come live with us, to be where we
are. And not just to ‘we the privileged’—probably least to we the
privileged. Perhaps most to those living in tents and constant insecurity.
After all, he chose a poor teenage girl living in occupied Palestine as his
mother. If the Incarnation tells us anything, as those who claim to be
followers of Jesus, it tells us the proper way to respond to suffering: “When I
look at all the problems around the world, I have to ask myself: What am I
really doing to be in solidarity with those who are hurting—like Jesus was?”
---
The mystical night approaches
quickly now, full of mystery and wonder. And so it is that a boy, a young
Palestinian Christian boy, prays to Jesus that Santa will be able to cross the
border checkpoints this year and come to visit even them.
There's something very special
about children's prayers--their immediacy, practically,
innocence...faith.
I invite you to read this short
prayer slowly, perhaps at the pace it would have been written, as it would have
been felt. I could imagine it being prayed by candlelight, after darkness falls
on Christmas Eve, this Night of Nights. May we pray it in our hearts this
Christmas for all God's children…
O
Lord Jesus, protect us from danger, and distance the bombs away from our homes,
because they have been destroyed and we are forced to leave our homes for the
street.
O
Jesus, distance the evil from us and the missiles and the rockets so that we
can go back to living peacefully and so that Santa Claus can come to us. Our
teacher told us that at the military checkpoint, the soldier did not allow
Santa Claus to enter Bethlehem. We want Christmas to come and want to decorate
the tree like the rest of the children in the world.
O
Jesus, give us courage and strength to overcome fear and to live in peace and
tranquility and freedom in our beloved land and precious Palestine.
Amen.
Amen.
Peace and tranquility and
freedom on earth; goodwill toward all.
Cory
Christmas Eve 2015
Prayer written by Bisan Mousa, aged 7 from Talitha Kumi
Lutheran School in the West Bank
