The Seed

Christmas Eve and Day 2019 

It is good to be gathered here together on this most holy night. We have people who come from other spiritual traditions, people who have come from far away, people returning after a long gone. Wherever you have traveled from, whatever tradition you are a part of or not a part of, however long its been, you are most welcome here. Be at peace in this space. 

One of my favorite Christmas carols has always been Jesus Christ the Apple Tree, and I’ve never quite known why. And it’s such a strange image. Christ as a tree. The tree of life my soul hath seen/Laden with fruit, and always green The tree of life my soul hath seen/Laden with fruit, and always green The trees of nature fruitless be.Compared with Christ the apple tree. 

I was out for a walk the other night, and someone had taken this 30 foot blue spruce tree in their front yard, this tree that had been planted as a cute little sappling in the middle of their small suburban yard 70 years ago and which likely grown much taller than they had anticipated. They had decorated into a massive outdoor Christmas tree. And it made me think about the ways we have come to use the tree as a powerful symbol for Christmas. The tree was originally a pagan symbol, this evergreen sign of the power of life in the midst of the cold and darkness of winter. But like so many things, the early Christians took something which already existed in the pagan world, and they re-interpreted it, imbued it with Christian symbolism. Beginning in the 10th century, the triangle shape of an evergreen tree was said to be a symbol of the Holy Trinity. There came to exist a connection between the wood of the tree foreshadowing the wood of the cross. People connect the tree of Christmas to Jesus’ parable about the kingdom of God can grow from something small, like a small, smooth seed, to a massive tree which can host all the birds of the air. 

I also think about the roots of the tree. When my family and I go canoeing in the Canadian wilderness we see places where a tree seed has blown into a small depression of a large slab of granite rock, a place where there is maybe a tiny bit of soil. And that little seed opens to send down these small, silky roots, fine like newborn’s hair. Those roots can take hold so that a small sapling begins to grow. Over time, perhaps those roots find their way into the tiniest fissures in the rock, so that as the tree grows, the roots grow and eventually the tree can actually split open cracks in this massive slab of rock. 

One way to look at the story of the birth of Jesus is like like this tiny seedling of God, planted in the soil of Bethlehem, this One who would grow up such that his life and death and resurrection would split the assumptions and the foundations of the world. 

Luke begins this most sacred story by naming these seemingly immovable, dominating structures of the world. In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. Increasingly scholars do not think of Luke as an objective historian (such a concept was seen as useless in Luke’s day). Luke is more of a theologian. He is explicitly in the business of persuading people of the truth of Jesus Christ. And to help persuade, Luke paints a picture of something radically new breaking into this old world. Mary and Joseph are under the boot of the old world. They are commanded to go to Joseph’s village to be registered to pay taxes to Caesar, taxes which ironically would fund their own violent oppression. Luke opens the story with the image of a vulnerable couple on the move, people subject to these larger forces of domination and exploitation which had been swirling in Palestine for six hundred years and which very few expected to change anytime soon. 

But in the midst of all the chaos and violence, in the midst of the reign of Caesar, the reign of Herod, in this little backwater village of Bethlehem a seed is planted, the Lord is born amidst the dirt and dust and dung of animals. He is swaddled in cloths and laid in a manger. 

On that night, there are shepherds out in the fields and an angel comes to announce what God has done. The shepherds fall down stunned. But the angel says to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all people.” The shepherds are amazed and they run to see what has been done, and when they see the child they come back praising and glorifying God. 

When I was in seminary, Archbishop Desmond Tutu of South Africa came to be a guest preacher in the chapel. Tutu is like this small, hard acorn of a man, 5 foot 2” tall, smooth bald head, weathered face which is quick to smile, quick to laugh. Tutu said, “In the darkest days of South Africa all of the objective facts were against us. The government was passing fresh laws of oppression, there was tear-gassing in the streets, massacres in the slums, the killing of political activists.” But he said in the midst of this monolithic, seemingly immovable brutality, he would look into the eyes of the leader of apartheid, President Botha and say, “We have already won, and we welcome you to come and join us on the winning side.” Tutu believed with every fiber in him that the universe was moral, that lies and corruption and injustice would not have the last word. So much of his energy was directed at furthering the message of the angels to the shepherds, “Do not be afraid, that all hope is lost. Do not be afraid, that God has forgotten.” Tutu believed with his whole heart that God born amidst the dirt in Bethlehem, sided with the weak, the poor, the most vulnerable, and if people kept the faith and if people kept working with God’s non-violent love, it was only a matter of time. 

It is so easy to be discouraged by the seemingly immovable. Perhaps you have something in your life that sits on your chest like a great heavy slab. Family dynamics that seem like they will never change. A chronic medical condition. Fears and anxieties which never seem to stray far from the heart. 

I was recently having lunch with Fr. Denny Fischer, a most beloved priest who at one time was an associate here and who has remained a friend of Christ Church for the last 50 years. Fr. Fischer reminded me of the very first time he came to officiate a service here. It was in the summer of 1968. Fr. Victor Bolle was the rector at the time. Fr. Bolle and his wife Lucille had taken a trip to England and he had rented a car. While driving, for just a second he suffered some confusion and he drove in the wrong lane and he hit an oncoming car and his wife, Lucille was killed. A few days later she was buried in England and he made his way home. 

I can barely imagine what it would be like in the days and weeks and months following such a death. Trying to climb up into this very pulpit and offer God’s good news. This 10 ton weight of grief, underneath an even heavier slab of guilt. I can imagine simply fleeing, vanishing. I can imagine being crushed by the weight of it all. But he did not flee and he was not crushed, largely because of the grace of God planted in him and maybe even more, planted in all of these other people around him. 

Fr. Fischer who was telling the story said that when Fr. Bolle came back from England there was a funeral that needed to be said for a Christ Church parishioner. Fr. Bolle reached out to him because he feared he would not be able to speak the words of the burial office with his grief so fresh. Sure enough, when it came time for him to give the opening sentences, he could not and Fr. Fischer without a word simply slipped in to take the lead. 

Over the next weeks and months, the kindness of many people upheld Fr. Bolle in his grief. The fruit of Christ, offered to him in meals and cards and gestures and tears. People who whispered to him with their words and with their deeds, “Do not be afraid, we have you. We will shade you so you can heal.” 

Near the very end of his ministry, near the end of his life, Jesus turns to his disciples and says, I am the vine and you are the branches of that vine.” Abide in me so that my love and hope and peace will flow through you. 

So my brothers and sister, Do not be afraid. The seed planted in the dirt and the dust of Bethlehem continues to grow in this world. May we open ourselves to receive him deeply into the soil of our hearts. And may he grow in us and through us and around us, so that in time, by grace, the whole world will feast under the Tree of Life.