He came softly, unobserved and yet, strange to say, everyone knew him. The time was the fifteenth century; the place was Seville in Spain. He came to announce peace and to proclaim the good news. He came to teach and to cure; he came to bring the light. As he walked by the cathedral, a funeral procession for a little seven-year-old girl was just beginning to form. He heard the sobs and pleas of the girl's mother. Moved with compassion he asked the bearers of the funeral bier to halt. He touched the girl; she was raised to life once again.
The local cardinal archbishop heard about this event. Such displays of power were not to be tolerated. Such action led to faith which would only be dashed in the cruelty of the world. The stranger was thus thrown into prison as a common criminal. In custody he was questioned by the chief, or grand inquisitor, of the city, "Why have you come? We don't need you here!" The prisoner made no response. The inquisitor thus continued his harangue. He questioned the prisoner about his time in the desert, at the beginning of his ministry, when he was tempted with the great luxuries of power, wealth, and prestige. "You were a fool," said the inquisitor. "You should have accepted Satan's offer! Why are you so bent on self-destruction? Why did you choose miracle, mystery, and authority over power, wealth, and prestige? There is no longer a need to believe in you and what you bring. Go away, you are not welcome here." This time the prisoner did answer, not with words, but with actions. He embraced the inquisitor, kissed him, and walked out of the prison. He moved on to offer himself to another group at another time in history.
Fydor Dostoyevsky's famous tale "The Grand Inquisitor" in his equally remarkable book, The Brothers Karamazov, describes the rejection of Christ who has come to bring light, goodness, and peace to a world who needs him, but refuses to accept his presence. In a similar way today's Gospel Reading during this Christmas season speaks of what Jesus brought to the world and how he was rejected.
The power and significance of Jesus' rejection can only be fully appreciated if we understand the messianic hope that the Jews possessed from their long history and tradition. The destruction of the northern kingdom of Israel 722 years before Christ was the beginning of the Messiah or Christ story. Overrun by the Assyrians, the ten northern tribes of the Jews were lost to history. This fate had been predicted by such prophets as Hosea and Amos, who railed against the idolatry and social injustice practiced by Israel's religious leaders. Their failure to heed the warnings brought final destruction to a nation and its people. The story continues with prophecy to the southern kingdom of Judah. The people, both religious leaders and general population, had observed the fate of Israel, yet it seemed not to have registered. Isaiah in the first half of his long book of prophecy warned the people that God was displeased with their actions, especially their treatment of others. The famous "Song of the Vineyard" (Isaiah 5:1-7), speaks of how God, like a loving vinedresser, did all that was possible for Jerusalem and the people of Judah, yet the yield was poor. We read, "What more was there to do for my vineyard that I have not done in it? When I expected it to yield grapes, why did it yield wild grapes?" God's disappointment is manifest in a prediction of destruction: "And now I will tell you what I will do to my vineyard. I will remove its hedge, and it shall be devoured; and I will break down its wall, and it shall be trampled down. I will make it a waste; it shall not be pruned or hoed and it shall be overgrown with briers and thorns; I will also command the clouds that they rain no rain upon it" (Isaiah 5: 4-6). Judah's failure to heed Isaiah's warning, and that of others including Jeremiah, Habakkuk, and Zephaniah, led eventually to the infamous Babylonian exile (587-537 B.C.E.). Alone and isolated from their land and prosperity the Hebrews hoped for another deliverer, as Moses had been so long before.
While Cyrus was the immediate deliverer who ordered the Jews returned to Israel, God's chosen people looked for one who would restore the greatness of Israel, that is the Davidic kingdom. This Messiah was predicted by many of the prophets. Jeremiah (23:5-6) and Micah (5:1-4) spoke of a warrior who would fight for and bring victory to Israel; the Hebrews' enemies would be vanquished. Yet, other prophets predicted a different type of Messiah figure. During the Babylonian exile Isaiah spoke of a suffering servant (42:1-4; 49:1-7; 50:4-9; 52:13—53:12), one upon whom God's Spirit would rest. This servant would bring justice, would not rebel nor shield his face from buffets or spitting, whose appearance was marred. He would be one who others would avoid; he would be pierced for the sins of others. While the former image was most attractive and the dominant belief of the Hebrews, the servant model was present. Despite the predictions, the Hebrews, while recognizing him as a prophet and holy man, did not accept Jesus as the Messiah. Jesus announced the kingdom, but did not fulfill it. Moreover, the Jews' enemies were not vanquished and this messianic figure was executed as a common criminal. Such a fate was cursed. The book of Deuteronomy (21:23) reads, "Anyone hung on a tree is under God's curse."
The author of John's Gospel, most probably writing one generation after the synoptics, Matthew, Mark, and Luke, had greater perspective on the events of Jesus' life. Thus, he opens his gospel with some very profound and important Christian theology about Jesus. The prologue of John's Gospel has possibly received more commentary than any one other passage in the New Testament. The Johannine author speaks of Jesus' preexistence with the Father and his work in creation. We are further told that Jesus is the light (a favorite image of John's) which no darkness can overcome. John the Baptist is introduced as the precursor of the Lord, the one who came to testify to the light.
The gospel then addresses the central message of the Christmas season, namely that Jesus came, but was rejected by the very people to whom he was sent. The author tells us that the world he created with the Father did not know him; the Jews did not accept him. We are all very familiar with Jesus' rejection. Our study of the Hebrew Scriptures (Old Testament), however, allows us possibly to better understand why Jesus, who claimed to be the Son of God and Messiah, was rejected, for, in the minds of most Jews of Jesus' day, the life he led, his message, and certainly his death by crucifixion all militated against his claims. Yet, the evangelist goes on to say that those who received him and believed in his name were given the power to become children of God. Thus the Christmas message continues to echo — God's Son was sent to the human race so that we could unite ourselves in a close and unbreakable bond with the Lord. Yet, if we look at our world and our personal lives, have we done any better than the people of Seville who missed Jesus in Dostoyevsky's novel, any better than the Jews of Jesus' day?
We look at our world and wonder if the Prince of Peace has made any progress in his struggle to find acceptance in our world. Thousands starve in our world each day and millions go hungry because the light is not accepted. War and international terrorism are daily events on the news shows. September 11, 2001, changed world history. We live in fear because the light has been rejected. Ethnic conflict in many lands, too often in the name of religion, leads to violence and murder. Violence eclipses peace in our streets. People are afraid to leave their homes at night for fear that some individual or group will bring violence upon them. Racial tensions continue to plague many nations, including the United States. Minorities and other people who live on the margins of society never can seem to move toward the center; they are always pushed farther, to the extremes. All of this happens because the light has been rejected. Where is the good news; where is the comfort and salvation of God? What effect has Christ's message had on the world? What has changed in 2,000 years?
With all the problems and bad news, we may wonder what significance Jesus' birth in Bethlehem has for us today. The answer is totally up to us. An event which happened 2,000 years ago must be applied today in order to find relevance and meaning! If we do nothing to make Jesus' presence meaningful for our world, then like the grand inquisitor, Christ's rejection will continue. Jesus brought hope; he brought light so that a people in darkness would never be fearful again. It is up to us!
John Michael Talbot, the well-known third order Franciscan composer, singer, and author, puts the challenge before us by borrowing from Saint Teresa of Avila. "Christ has no body on earth but yours, no hands, no feet but yours. Yours are the eyes through which Christ looks with compassion for the world. Christ has no body on earth but yours." As the prayer indicates we are the presence of Christ. We are the light, the hope, the bearers of good news. If Jesus' birth means something more than a respite from the day-to-day grind, then it must take root and blossom forth in what we say and do. As Saint Paul says, we are the Body of Christ. We have a responsibility to pass on the gifts Jesus brings to others. We begin with ourselves and then move to others.
What can we do to make sure the light is accepted, that Jesus' incarnation makes a difference in our world? The light of Christ is like the light from a lamp that goes out in all directions, without discrimination. Nothing can escape the light save that which intentionally opts to hide. Thus, we must first learn and know for certain that Christ the light is present for all. Like Francis Thompson says is his epic poem, the "Hound of Heaven," Jesus, like his Father, leaves no stone unturned in his efforts to find us and bring us home. The image of Jesus with his arms outstretched on the cross powerfully demonstrates that Christ, the light, is calling and welcoming us to return. Saint Matthew (11:28-30) quotes Jesus, "Come to me, all that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble of heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."
Next, we need to redouble our efforts to promote the light and assure that we as individuals and society place no obstacles in the path of the light. Too often, generally unconsciously, we reject Christ or set up barriers against him. In our families, when we reject one of our members, for whatever reason, we reject Christ, for as scripture and John Michael Talbot say, we are the Body of Christ. Our actions deny the presence of Jesus. At our jobs we must be certain that our day-to-day work ethic is consistent with Jesus' message. We must be fair and work for justice, not only for ourselves and our own betterment, but for the whole community of faith. Christ came to claim all who are willing to listen; we must be equally open to all whom we encounter. We often reject the light by our inattention to those who need us. We turn our heads with a blind eye or deaf ear to the cries of the poor and the marginalized in our society. We must see all as our sisters and brothers. As Saint James (2:15-17) reminds us, "If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill,' and yet do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that? So the faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead." Bringing the light of Christ to others is our Christian call; it should be a principle action of our lives. During this festive Christmas season of giving, it should be part and parcel of the gift of ourselves that we present to the newborn king of Jews.
Yet, as we know, in order to share the light, we must first open the door and allow Christ to enter, permeate our being, and become one with us. The initial challenge is depicted artistically through a powerful painting in the British National Gallery in London. It describes in art a passage from the book of Revelation (3:20), "Listen! I am standing at the door knocking; if you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to you and eat with you, and you with me." Let us today respond to the knock of Jesus; let us open the door to our hearts. Let us continue to welcome the newborn Prince of Peace. Let us allow the miracle of Jesus' birth to change us forever!