Mi 5:1-6

24 December 2000

4th Sunday of Advent / Christmas Eve

 

"House of Bread, House of Life"

 

I'm using the Old Testament reading for the 4th Sunday of Advent this morning, since we'll celebrate Christmas Eve tonight.  It comes from the section that contains prophecies by Micah of the future restoration of David's kingdom in Israel.  The particular passage we're looking at focuses on the shepherd king who is to come from Bethlehem.  It's the inspiration for the hymn, "O Little Town of Bethlehem."

There are actually two Bethlehems in the Bible.  One is in the far north of Israel.  The other is a few miles south of Jerusalem, in Judea.  That's the one we're talking about.  That's the birthplace of David, the king who became legendary for his exploits.  That's the "Bethlehem of Ephrathah," a reference to the family that settled there (Gn 35:19; Ru 1:2, 4:11).

Micah is describing the ideal king, the one who is truly God's anointed, God's Messiah.  Some of the psalms describe him; Isaiah certainly does.  Unlike the northern kingdom of Israel, Judah had only one dynasty.  There was just one line of kingly succession.  Every king of Judah was the son of David.  But over and over again, each son of David failed to live up to the dream of the righteous ruler who would shepherd the people with compassion while ensuring justice throughout the land.  No one could attain the lofty goal, as the prophet puts it, of "stand[ing] and feed[ing] his flock in the strength of the Lord, in the majesty of the name of the Lord his God."  None could truly be called "the one of peace" (vv. 4-5).

Some kings, like Ahaz and Manasseh, didn't even make much of an effort.  Their reigns are noted for their wickedness.  Others, like Hezekiah and Josiah, really made a point of ruling with honor.  But even they had their shortcomings.  And that brings us back to today, and to our scripture reading.

I want to avoid something that I've heard a lot of people do when talking about the Old Testament, and that's trying to claim that every rock and every scrap of wood is somehow symbolic of Jesus Christ.  And I say "every scrap of wood," because one of the more¼colorful descriptions I've heard is that the actual wood in Noah's ark is a kind of foreshadowing of the wood in the cross on which Jesus was crucified.

But without undue exaggeration, I think it's possible to link Micah's use of Bethlehem with Jesus—and not just as his birthplace.  You see, the word “Bethlehem” is a combination of two Hebrew words:  beth (tyiB;), “house,” and lehem (!j,l,), “bread.”  So “Bethlehem” literally means “house of bread.”  Bearing that in mind, isn't Jesus the one person who calls himself bread—“the bread of life” and “the bread that came down from heaven” (Jn 6:35, 41)?  And in our gospel reading, doesn’t Mary the mother of Jesus praise God for “fill[ing] the hungry with good things” (Lk 1:53)?

Okay, so what do you think?  Am I kind of reaching with that one?  I'll tell you what:  I won’t insist that Jesus is any more to be found in the word Bethlehem than he is in the wood of Noah’s ark!  Still, if Bethlehem—the birthplace of David and the birthplace of Jesus, the son of David—if Bethlehem means anything, then it's not only the "house of bread," but it's the "house of life."  Any place, any house, in which God enters the world as a human is truly a house of life.  And we need that life.

People often compare the Bethlehem of the past with the Bethlehem of today.  In Micah's time, Bethlehem was threatened by the Assyrians, and he predicted that it, along with the rest of the country, would suffer invasion.  A century later, the Babylonians saw to that.  In Jesus' time, Bethlehem suffered the pain of occupation by the Romans.  In our time, Bethlehem is still a bone of contention:  between Israelis, who treasure the traditional importance of the city, and Palestinians, who themselves live under military occupation.  All of this in the place in which the God of the cosmos consented to be born as a fragile baby to an impoverished couple.

Thinking about the hazards and the pain of Bethlehem, it may seem that what goes on in our lives is pretty trivial.  And often it is!  We too frequently make much ado about nothing.  But there are hazards, and there is pain among us today.  I don't think any of us is seriously concerned about an imminent military invasion of Jamestown!  (Although I often regard the armory at the end of our street with an eye of suspicion!  I'm still half expecting a tank to come rolling down Ellis Avenue, only to park itself in front of our house, turret aimed at our front door!)

My delusions aside, we don't fear an invasion of soldiers.  But be sure, if you haven't already experienced it, an invasion will come.  It may be something obvious to everyone who knows you; it may be something so hidden that absolutely no one knows of your torment.

We often hear that this time of year brings with it additional pain for many people.  I'm sure that that's true.  Many people feel the bitter loneliness even more during a time filled with images of family and friends getting together, laughing and singing Christmas carols, drinking egg nog…

But I wonder if these festive images even really reflect reality.  I saw on television a few days ago the result of a survey (by Gallup, I think) that indicated that over half the respondents really don't like to go Christmas shopping.  And 60% said that they would be just as happy celebrating Christmas without the gift giving.  I don't know if that means that we'd be better off abandoning the practice, but it seems to me to suggest that in the shopping frenzy, we lose something valuable.

There is power in Christmas, power that we fritter away by getting bogged down in all of the details we impose on ourselves.  There is a power, as our epistle reading in Hebrews puts it, of Christ coming into the world and expressing to God, "Sacrifices and offerings you have not desired, but a body you have prepared for me," so that we may be "sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all" (He 10:5, 10).

But Christmas is about so much more than simply providing a body that will be killed over three decades from that moment.  The miracle of Bethlehem provides the world with a tangible example of who God is and what God is all about.  That's what gives meaning to the trappings of Christmas:  the tree, the lights, the presents, and all the rest.