Thus says the Lord:
Sing aloud with gladness for Jacob,
and raise shouts for the chief of the nations;
proclaim, give praise, and say,
"Save, O Lord, your people,
the remnant of Israel."
See, I am going to bring them from the land of the north,
and gather them from the farthest parts of the earth,
among them the blind and the lame, those with child and
those in labor, together;
a great company, they shall return here.
With weeping they shall come,
and with consolations I will lead them back,
I will let them walk by brooks of water,
in a straight path in which they shall not stumble;
for I have become a father to Israel,
and Ephraim is my firstborn.
Hear the word of the Lord, O nations,
and declare it in the coastlands far away;
say, "He who scattered Israel will gather him,
and will keep him as a shepherd a flock."
For the Lord has ransomed Jacob,
and has redeemed him from hands too strong for him.
They shall come and sing aloud on the height of Zion,
and they shall be radiant over the goodness of the Lord,
over the grain, the wine, and the oil,
and over the young of the flock and the herd;
their life shall become like a watered garden,
and they shall never languish again.
Then shall the young women rejoice in the dance,
and the young men and the old shall be merry.
I will turn their mourning into joy,
I will comfort them, and give them gladness for sorrow.
I will give the priests their fill of fatness,
and my people shall be satisfied with my bounty,
says the Lord.
We are leaving the season of Advent, a time to prepare for the appearance of God and the fulfillment of his promises to Israel. The language of the prophets during Advent would have us expect God to appear in wonder and power: “Do not fear, O Zion; do not let your hands grow weak. The Lord, your God, is in your midst, a warrior who gives victory” (Zephania), “Take off the garment of your sorrow and affliction, O Jerusalem, and put on forever the beauty of the glory from God. Put on the robe of the righteousness that comes from God; put on your head the diadem of the glory of the Everlasting; for God will show your splendor everywhere under heaven. For God will give you evermore the name, ‘Righteous Peace, Godly Glory’…For God has ordered that every high mountain and the everlasting hills be made low and the valleys filled up, to make level ground, so that Israel may walk safely in the glory of God” (Baruch). Victory over enemies, a return to the promised land, apocalyptic landscape that emphasizes the centrality and importance of God’s people.
But Christmas morning has come and gone and our expectations have not been satisfied. There have been no enemies destroyed, no vengeance enacted. I received no garment of glory that radiates God’s goodness to the world; mountains, hills and valleys remain that obscure God’s city, disturbed nought by the slightest tremble of the earth. The mundanity of the day is maddening - life remains as it was yesterday, last week, last month, last year, etc; all the way back to the first Christmas morning. Even then, nothing exceptional characterized that first Christmas morning. A poor family makes their way to a tiny town upon the order of the empire. The woman is pregnant but they cannot find shelter with their companions; instead, they spend the night in a stable where the woman gives birth to a baby. Their only visitors are the dingy shepherds who use the stables to keep their livestock. This is a simple story, one many women have lived. The importance of that birth is easy to miss, ignored because we did not expect God to appear in this way. If I were there, I would have missed it; I would have missed the chance to meet God because I refuse to believe that God would be like me.
The Christmas story provides a counter narrative to the prophets. God may have once been willing to be perceived as powerful, controlling, distant, destructive, and dangerous. The prophets, understanding God to be this way, expect God to remain this way. Their language reflects the expectation of future action to match the image of God they understand, including the language of this week’s reading. Somewhere though God changed, upending any past experience we had of him, forcing us to reorient our expectations of who God is and how he acts in the world. The first Christmas morning served as a warning - if we expect God to be like the prophets, we will miss him. No doubt I need to assess my own expectations of God for this year. If Christmas has taught me anything, it’s that I should expect to find God in the simple, the mundane. Honestly, it does not sound very hopeful, yet - but I don’t want to miss God again.