Just about this time, a year or so ago, this poem caused quite a stir on social media. It was written by Kaitlin Hardy Shetler as part of a collection of poems she wrote in 2018 called, “Poems for the Resistance”. I’ve included another of her poems from that collection as part of tonight’s meditation.
Kaitlin is a member of the Churches of Christ. I don’t know how I’ve lived this long and traveled in as many churches as I have and not known about the Churches of Christ. I think, perhaps, I missed the plural ‘es’ at the end of Church and thought, oh, right, they’re a part of the United Church of Christ that didn’t unite and moved along.
Call me and ‘Episcopal snob’ and, although I would hate to admit it, I would be guilty as charged.
In case you are curious, I checked out Wikipedia and feel I can tell you what I discovered since I did make a contribution to them a few months ago when I was flush.
The Churches of Christ “are congregations within the ‘Restoration Movement’ (also known as the Stone-Campbell Movement and the Reformation of the 19th Century) – but you can google that for yourself – that affirm the orthodox teaching of the person of Jesus and the Bible as the sole rule of faith and practice within the primacy of the New Testament as the revelation of the will of God.”
There is a special note that “Most Churches of Christ do not take part in interdenominational activities” – which helps to explain a little of my ignorance. Indeed, their website definitively states that they are not a denomination. There's more, of course, but it should also be noted that they do not allow women to be ordained.
I said all that so you would understand the religious context in which this woman wrote this poem. Okay, give that a minute to all sink in.
I know, right? It’s hard to imagine that in the year of our Lord 2020, there are still groups of people who think women are not suitable ontological matter for ordination – especially for those of us in The Episcopal Church.
These folk – in Churches of Christ as well as other evangelical Christians – roundly and soundly condemned this poem. There was a flurry of words - many of them quite harsh - but the one that was repeated most often is “scandal”.
The poem, they said, was “scandalous”. Kaitlin, they said, “was scandalous”.
I love that word. Scandal – which the OED says means “an action or event regarded as morally or legally wrong and causing general public outrage.”
Shame. Dishonor. Offensive. Disgrace. Infamy.
Scandal comes from the Greek word ‘skandalon’ which means “stumbling block”. When used metaphorically in the context of New Testament theology, a stumbling block reveals something unsavory about the character of the person who trips over it.
Hold onto that thought: A stumbling bloc reveals something unsavory about the character of the person who trips over it.
St. Paul says that the cross was a ‘skandalon’ – a stumbling block – “to the Jews and foolishness to the Gentiles”. (1Corinthinas 1:23)
The pregnancy of Mary is a scandal.
Mary is one of five women mentioned in the genealogy of Matthew who were scandalous: Tamar (a woman scorned who pretended to be a prostitute in order to save her family line), Rahab (described as a prostitute but understood to be a trafficked woman), Ruth (a woman who seduced her second husband) and Bathsheba (a woman taken in adultery).
Mary of Magdala, who washed the feet of Jesus and anointed him with oil, described in scripture – without evidence – as a prostitute but who became the first witness to and evangelist of the resurrection, was a scandal.
The Gospel of Jesus Christ is a scandal to the rich and privileged.
Jesus says over and over again, that he comes to bring good news to the poor and the oppressed. He says that in his first sermon in the Temple (Luke 4:14-30). Indeed, the leaders of the synagogue were beyond offended and got flat out furious and tried to run him out of town.
So, if you’re someone who oppresses the poor then the gospel is offensive and bad news - until you recognize your need for repentance and forgiveness and do something about it.
What if, this Advent, we took the scandal that is in the very bloodline of Jesus through his female ancestors and took the risks of our faith?
What if at least part of our Advent discipline was to be a scandal?
What if we did something that turned the tables on that which is expected, dare I say, that which is “meet, right and proper”?
One of the scandalous things we have faced this year has been not being able to worship in our church buildings. We were all deeply offended at not being able to celebrate Easter together.
I've listened to some good Christian men raise their voices in anger and pound their fist on the table and insist that this was a violation of religious freedom. They went beyond being offended and went straight on to outraged.
The latest scandal – an abomination to some – is that not only
will we not be celebrating Christmas Eve or Christmas Day in church, we are
being encourage to “shelter in place”, to “stay at home” and not travel or
gather with anyone, even family members, outside of those who live in our
homes.
I know I am heartbroken. It's unthinkable not to gather with my children and grandchildren. I'm heartbroken and yes, deeply offended that this cherished family time has been taken from us by this pandemic.
As I've thought and prayed about it, I've come to this thought: It’s time, I think, to embrace the scandal that is at the center
of our faith. It is time to think of the sacrifice we are being asked to make
as redemptive and, in fact, sacramental in that it reveals an inner and
spiritual grace.
I don't know yet what that looks like. I just know that there is a pathway for redemption being offered in this time of the scandal of an unmerited sacrifice .
And, I intend to follow it.
One way to begin is by embracing the scandal of the Nativity, and making that our first step into the deeper scandal of the good news of Jesus Christ.
Here's another poem by Kaitlin Hardy Shetler. Fill yourself with wonder and allow yourself to stumble over her words and images and then ask what that reveals about you.
i like my nativities
with a side of heresy
with midwives and mothers
and empty mangers
and full arms
I like wise women
over wise men
attending to bloody people
born and crucified
showing up in places
church leaders won't go
i like heralding feminist agendas
and trouble
and god's good news
which is kind of repetitive
since they're all the same thing
proper churches
want proper nativities
because women's bodies
are shameful
whether bearing christ
or just bare
and instead of silent nights
i like loud protests
because
be silent
is not a phrase about joy
but about control
so give me a christmas
without white supremacy
and bright sexism
where the story of a baby
becomes a story of a woman
and my nativity looks like
god's
and not like
man's. ~ Kaitlin Hardy Shetler
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