Weekly Reflection--December 16

It is what it is. 

You've heard the statement, yes?  Perhaps, you have said it yourself?  This matter-of-fact declaration is the catchall for the often grudging acceptance of life as we know it and  generally the final word to a conversation:  It is what it is.  How do you respond to that?

However, the phrase was one of the kernels (or the paraphrase of that kernel) that stuck with me after a clergy quiet morning a couple weeks ago and has been the grist for conversation ever since.  A group of clergy gathered to discuss the "Messiah" with Rabbi Joshua Hammerman from Temple Beth-el.  It was a very rich morning, as we discussed the various and numerous understandings of "Messiah" within scripture and the Jewish and Christian traditions.

Messiah from the Jewish Mashiach is the Hebrew for "Anointed One".  It's Greek relative is Christos or what we all know as Christ.  Far from Jesus' last name, Christ--or Messiah--possesses a great deal of varied meanings.

Of course, for Christians, we think of Jesus.  He is God's anointed.  The one who saves us.  And the writers of the Gospels and New Testament letters go to great lengths to connect the historical Jesus with the one whom the prophets and sages of old had hoped for and long anticipated.

Meanwhile, a Jewish reading of the "Messiah" texts within the Hebrew Scripture and the Talmudic  and Mishnaic writings makes clear that there never was uniform acceptance for what this "anointed one" would be and do.

Just a few options are:

1.  The Messiah would return the house of David and Israel to worldly power.

2.  The Messiah would bring lasting peace upon the earth.

3.  The Messiah would not necessarily be an individual but might be the community of God.

4.  The Messiah would be found among the outcast and beggars.

5.  The Messiah is waiting among us with those who need healing

Apart from the last two options, you can see why many people in Jesus' day questioned whether he was the Messiah, the Christ.  The Davidic rule and peace on the earth have yet to be realized.

During our discussion through the morning hours, I was struck by one comment from Rabbi Hammerman regarding the vision of the Messianic age where the lion and lamb would lie down together.  I had always seen this as an image of the peaceable kingdom (of which Debra referenced in her sermon two weeks ago), the reign of God where there is no violence or destruction or death.

However, Rabbi Hammerman offered a reading of this vision that was very interesting.  "Why," he said, "would you want a world where a lion no longer possesses its lion-ness?"  Do we really want to live in world where things are no longer what they are?  We can no longer say, "It is what it is," because "it" has been changed?  And how do we know that "it" has been changed for the better?

These may seem like esoteric and abstract questions, and I can't say that there is a nice and neat way to tie everything up so that it makes sense.  Yet, I appreciated the alternate vision and the intellectual push to see and think in another way, a way beyond what I was so casual and unreflective about.

I think that this characteristic is a part of our Advent waiting and longing and hoping and the mood of expectation that permeates this season and, truthfully, the whole of our life.  God is a God of surprises.  Jesus was a Christ that broke the mold of what was expected.  So, when we are comfortable and certain about our understanding of who God is and what God is up to in the world, we should, perhaps, pause and think again.  Yes, there is a great deal that we know and trust about God's love and mercy revealed in the life of Jesus whom we call Christ. 

Yet, when it comes to God, it is not what it is, at least not all the time.  The rules and laws of nature still hold sway, but the locks and parameters that define our mind and our heart are permeable.  Or better yet, they are permeated by God's love and mercy so that we might not be solely resigned to one way of being.  Rather, caught in the wonder of this promised presence, we might engage the world with a bit more levity, a little more humor, and lot more wonder.

Peace,
Mark