 A Jewish babe born for postmodern times By David Brickner © 2000 United Press International Thursday, January 11, 2001 This is the fifth in a United Press International series titled, "Christ and postmodernity," where authors propose theological solutions for the daunting problem of the profusion of subjective "truths."
A Jewish girl had given birth to a baby boy in a manger in Bethlehem. Hardly headline news – except for the fact that this baby boy would change the course of human history. Except for the fact that the birth of this child would signal world redemption. Except for the fact that this birth in that backwater town would become the moment by which all other events in time would be measured for both Jews and Gentiles. It is easy to understand how most of humanity missed the event. People tend to be impressed by all that appears big and powerful. We are captivated by the trite and titillated by the trendy. But the machinations of the politically powerful do not set the course of history any more than the trends of popular culture do. Those who try to read the signs of the times through the postmodern lens of popular culture will miss it every time. So, what qualities enabled a select few to recognize the really important thing God was doing back in Bethlehem? Those first-century shepherds on the hills outside Bethlehem were a simple and lowly folk. (Shepherding often was reserved for the youngest member of a family. If an adult was given the task, it was not because he had an excellent resume.) To the shepherds, the revelation of the babe came and the glory of God was revealed. Perhaps their willingness to let the truth be the truth and respond without rationalizing made them the most likely candidates to hear from God. "Though the Lord is on high, Yet He regards the lowly; but the proud He knows from afar" (Psalm 138:6). Also, "The Lord preserves the simple" (Psalm 116:6). Our savvy and sophisticated culture prefers cynicism to simplicity. The "wise" of our day would have us believe that issues of truth and morality are much too complicated to be known. And the more complex something appears – the more indecipherable – the more appealing it is to the many. But with God it's different. If we want to be among those who recognize his hand in history, it's necessary to resist cynical tendencies in ourselves and our society. It is necessary to prefer simple truth to complex sophistry and to view the trends of our postmodern culture through the lens and light of God's revelation. In this way, we can quiet the din of worldly clamor and listen for the voices of angels. The Christmas carols identify the second group who saw what God was doing in their time as "Kings of Orient," but the Bible calls them "magi" or "wise men." They were diviners of signs and stars, schooled in reading and interpreting the ancient texts. They were not kings but advisers to kings, politicians of a religious stripe. And the political leaders from the east truly were seeking God. Today many people seek spiritual enlightenment from the comfort of their own living rooms. They can tune into the latest popular preacher with their television remote control or surf the eclectic spiritual galaxy with the click of a computer mouse. But what does it really mean to seek after God? Truly seeking after God involves devotion, a determination that requires the seeker to set aside comfort and convention, to pursue with abandon the one who alone is able to save. Something within the wise men led them from the comfort and safety of their prominent positions to make the long journey to a foreign land. When they found him whom they sought, not in a palace but in a tiny impoverished Jewish town, they were not disappointed. They worshipped Him and gave gifts. And they were able to partake in God's messianic promise, though they were outsiders: "And you will seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all your heart" (Jer. 29:13). The third group able to recognize what God was doing in their time were saintly sages, two elderly Jewish folk whose hearts were attenuated to the promises of the Scriptures. Anna was a prophetess, while Simeon was "waiting for the consolation of Israel." Together, they represented those who studied the Bible and believed it to be absolutely true and trustworthy. They knew that human destiny was not dependent on the power of the sword or political manipulation, but on the sovereign plan of God. They understood that this plan would be entrusted to a little baby boy. This was God's way. Simeon said, "Behold, this Child is destined for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign which will be spoken against" (Luke 2:34). When we understand the Scriptures, when our hopes and our dreams are rooted in the Word of God, neither appearances nor outward circumstances will sway us. Thus, Simeon and Anna held in their very arms the one who would redeem Israel and be "a light of revelation to the Gentiles." How surprising that the God of Israel should choose to reveal his son's arrival to these three very different groups. Yet, in a sense, the Messiah was much like those to whom his advent was first revealed. He came as a lowly shepherd, one who was not esteemed but who faithfully cared for those in his charge. Like the magi, he journeyed far from a high position to present himself in a humble place. And, like Anna and Simeon, he knew and believed all the promises of God and was born for that very purpose. People from any background today still can seek and find Him if they are willing to follow the example of those who searched and found Him so very long ago. David Brickner is executive director of Jews for Jesus. He celebrates both Hanukkah and Christmas. |
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