In a break with tradition, I'll share my Christmas sermon from the past week. My sermon for the coming Sunday will work its way here sometime this week, but it'll come easier if I unburden myself of the first part of Christmas.
And of course--Merry Christmas to you all. I hope joy surprises you, or at least that peace finds you, during our festival of Light.
So: Christmas. "The Word was made flesh and dwelt among us."
Let's start by talking a bit about Buddhism. Buddhism has several major divides within it as well as numerous minor divisions. These divisions are both a little alike and totally unlike our Christian 'denominations', so the comparison to these is mostly mistaken. But I want I to talk for a moment about one of these major divisions. I won't wander into the finer points of it, or the history of it, and besides, I'm hardly a Buddhism scholar. Yet, spending a few moments on one of our neighbors may well help us see something about ourselves.
One of the primary divisions in Buddhism is between the Mahayana and the Theravada (I'll have you know that Google's spell check recognizes both of those terms--hooray for the modern age--although it still won't recognize 'lectionary,' an oversight I continue to find utterly bizarre). 'Mahayana' means something like "the greater vehicle," and 'Theravada' means something like "teachings of the elders." However, Mahayana has a pejorative term for the Theravada, which it will be helpful for a moment to learn. The Mahayana often call the Theravada approach the Hinayana, meaning "the lesser vehicle."
The difference is this: the older form of Buddhism, the Theravada, argues that following the Buddha means using his teachings as a kind of 'vehicle,' quite literally a boat to take us to another shore. Upon reaching it, we have obtained Enlightenment, a kind of existence beyond here. The teachings of Buddha are precisely for this--a kind of vehicle to be Enlightened, which means escaping the world of suffering and illusion. The Mahayana, however, see the Buddha's teaching as a kind of greater vehicle. It is not the case that the Buddha's teachings simply carry us to another shore, beyond this suffering world, and we leave the boat on the shore. Rather, say the Mahayana, the Buddha's teachings are a vehicle that we never abandon. They are a kind Great Vehicle, and they are both the vehicle for carrying across the river and the place to which we shall arrive. Where the Theravada talk about becoming Arhats, the fancy name for the Enlightened, the Mahayana say that we are beginning the trek to becoming Buddha's ourselves by joining the Great Vehicle.
So see the difference? The Theravada see the teachings of Buddha to be a temporary vehicle; the Mahayana see the teachings of the Buddha to be both vehicle and Enlightenment. Which Buddhist school is right? That debate belongs to someone within the tradition--but seeing this long-time debate in our neighbor can offer us something.
Now, let's talk about Christianity. We don't use those words, but perhaps we should use them to refer to ourselves. Parts of our Christian family have argued, both overtly and covertly, that this world is a cycle of suffering to be escaped. Christ's teachings form a vehicle for us to lead us neatly into another world. They are here to shelter us, protect us, make us grow up, and ultimately preserve our souls for the afterlife. Notice that, in this sense, there are Theravada Christians who are extremely Roman Catholic in an archetypal, Middle Ages kind of way, and others who are extremely Protestant in a new school evangelical type. Many people have criticized Christianity for this kind of worldview, and often rightly so.
Many today believe this to be the case--Christ is the boat to carry us safely into the afterworld. To be a good Christian is to have a perfect moral life, quite literally not to rock the boat. The world is a hostile place, a foreign land, and the ways of the world can stain us, ruin us, destroy us. No good comes from it. We are to cross the raging river of this reality with our heads down, because this reality is nothing but rapids and only Christ's steady hand at the tiller can guide us safely to heaven, a place without rapids, a place without danger.
However, as we celebrate Christmas, I cannot help but be mindful that this is not faith of the Incarnation. Christmas teaches us exactly the opposite lesson: namely, that we are to be Mahayana Christians, if the term makes sense.
You see, when God took the form of a human, of Christ, it changes everything, quite literally everything. If God and the world have met together in one person, the world--the whole universe--has been touched in an irrevocable way. If we needed only a lesser vehicle, a prophet would have done just as well, someone to teach us perfect tools for keeping out the world. If Christ came to save, to drag us up from death, it was not as a lesser vehicle, a thing that was only good to shelter us from the darkness and the water. Christ has come to sanctify the world, to heal a wound we can only vaguely understand. Christ has come to invite us up into the life of God, the self-sufficient life of the Trinity. Christ is a greater vehicle, both carrier and shore, beginning and end.
This means that we are not called to keep our heads down until we reach a perfect place with clouds. It means that heaven is not the other shore. Heaven has begun in its first fruit in us, the the community following Christ and inspired by the Spirit. It is not shown perfectly--5 minutes at coffee hour will reveal that. But day after day, surprising healing happens. Day after day, people become more like Christ, learning to see as he saw. . Christ is different from the world, but the world is not altogether different from Christ. Christ is different from us, but we are not altogether different from Christ. This world is passing away because it will be reborn in its perfection. We have died to ourselves because the Holy Spirit has begun her work in us and needed room to begin that resurrection.
So, what does this mean for us at Christmas-time, all this lengthy business about Mahayana Christians? It means many things, but for this season, I will say this. This Christmas, consider: no thing is wholly evil. Santa Claus is good--and I hope he visited everyone with things that inspired much thanksgiving. Christmas trees are good--foci of family life and light. Eggnog, the bourbon kind, is surely good, inspiring good cheer and happy palates. And maybe more importantly: we are never wholly evil. No thing we can do irreparably separates from God's love. This means, too, that no thing irreparably separates our neighbors from God's love, and we're called to mirror that love of neighbor.
And: if the world isn't wholly evil, perhaps for a little while, 12 days or so, we might remember that the light shone in the darkness, and darkness did not overcome it. Perhaps we might smile not despite the world, but in the world, with the world, at the love that is drawing it still. The Word dwelt among us, and it changed everything, began the long process of moving all created reality closer into the heart of God. We might remember that through the mess of our lives, despite that mess and in the midst of that mess and precisely because of that mess, God is drawing us on up into the divine life.
In other words, perhaps we might remember that our joy is not accidental. Joy is not a byproduct. Joy is not a thing only other people experience. Joy is not a thing reserved for later, on another shore. Joy is a thing that is for now, for the present divine life surrounding us. The divine reality pervades this reality.
Joy is now.
