Kenosis – Self-emptying of God

Sadly, what I wrote this time last year seems to be the most appropriate words to post today. With one small edit I repost from last year. – The spontaneous ceasefire on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day in 1914 came about as British, Belgian, and French soldiers put down their weapons and climbed out of their trenches and joined with German soldiers singing Silent Night Holy Night! A moment of palpable peace in the madness of war, a glimmer of grace amidst the gruesome reality of evil. If only such a glimmer of hope and holiness could touch us once again in the midst of war. The photo above comes from The Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem, in the West Bank. No Christmas services were held there in 2023 due to the war. Will the church, the streets, and all too many homes remain empty this year? I wonder? Issa Thaljieh, an Orthodox priest who ministers at the Nativity Church in the Israeli-occupied West Bank had this to say “During these difficult times that our Palestinian cities are going through, especially in the Gaza Strip, it is difficult to show any signs of joy and happiness,” No tickets will be required to attend the midnight Mass this Christmas Eve. Christmas is about the emptying of God to be in the midst of human flesh with all its vulnerability. Luci Shaw’s poem Kenosis – a Greek word which translated means emptying – is a poem of how vulnerable God became when Word became flesh. Notice how the poet herself empties any use of theological jargon and describes the beauty of God’s risk. It is this story that gives us palpable hope and more than a glimmer of grace to live in the present no matter what. Ponder this poem and in silence behold the surprise of grace and love.

Kenosis
In sleep his infant mouth works in and out.
He is so new, his silk skin has not yet
been roughed by plane and wooden beam
nor, so far, has he had to deal with human doubt.

He is in a dream of nipple found,
of blue-white milk, of curving skin
and, pulsing in his ear, the inner throb
of a warm heart’s repeated sound.

His only memories float from fluid space.
So new he has not pounded nails, hung a door
broken bread, felt rebuff, bent to the lash,
wept for the sad heart of the human race.   Luci Shaw 1928-

Prayer:
Lord God,
we count the days to Christmas
while others count the days of loved ones held hostage,
the days of war and grief.
We count gifts for family and friends while so many
seek to find family and friends amidst the dust of debris
and the silence of ruins and rubble.
Come, O Lord, and dwell with us,
teach us your way, show us your love, make the miracle
of grace alive in our hearts and in our homes.
Come, O Lord, help us to be courageous not in making war
but in making peace.
In silence, hear our prayer. Amen.