Dear one,
Given my small window upon the world, recently I gave thought to three Old Testament prophets, whose words we regularly encounter at this season of Advent/ Christmas--and yet I'd never given them much attention before. The prophets are Zephaniah and Micah of the 8th and 7th centuries B.C., and Malachi of the 5th century B.C. Typically Micah is known for these words:
“But you, O’ Bethlehem ... from you shall come forth One ...”;
Zephaniah for these words:
“The King of Israel is in your midst”;
and Malachi for these words:
“The LORD whom you seek will suddenly appear”.
However, seldom do we recognize that all three spoke to a people and to circumstances that were dire: Zephaniah and Micah as kingdoms were tottering and falling, and Malachi amid the rubble of a nation’s catastrophic collapse. All three addressed people hardened by fear, and yet all three spoke of the hope of One yet to come.
As I thought of these prophets, it occurred to me that their worlds differed little from that of Joseph and Mary; but it also occurred to me that generally we perceive their worlds as “religious”: priests, prophets, rituals, and commands. This general perception prompted me to reconsider the word “religion.”
According to Webster’s, the word “religion” is derived from the Latin word, religare, meaning “to bind” or “bind back.” Of interest to me is that ligare is the basis of our word “ligament.” Thus, and positively, “religion” can be that ligament, which binds, ties, or holds together, and in this regard, bespeaks of structure, rules, right and wrong, and often of duty. However and equally, “religion” often suggests the negatives of structure, rules, and duty—that which binds and shackles; that which stifles life and adventure; that which crushes those held under its weight.
However we define “religious”, and returning to our three Old Testament prophets, their words and circumstances seem far more akin to the thoughts and images evoked by “Ukraine-Russia/ Israel-Gaza/ tumors-surgery” than by an orderly system of belief and practice. In spite of the hope embedded in the promises of One arising from Bethlehem, of the One King in their midst, of One suddenly appearing, for our three prophets, life was stripped of its illusions—unvarnished, nitty-gritty, and real—and so too was the life-journey of Mary and Joseph.
Moreover, it seems to me that Mary and Joseph made very “un-religious” decisions. Clearly in Matthew’s Gospel (1:18-25), Joseph was encouraged to take Mary as his wife, even though it would mean a twisting of religious justice and duty—a moral scandal, both then and now. Likewise, according to Luke’s Gospel (1:26-38), with reservations Mary willingly accepted a binding call to obedience, which rendered her life complicated and compromised, subject to derision, then and now.
In my view, the word “religion” cannot adequately express the meaning of their experience—nor as an antidote to the world characterized by Micah, Zephaniah, and Malachi. Nonetheless, these five Jews, whose worlds were filled with destruction and death, held firmly to the hope of the One promised. Furthermore, in my view Advent/Christmas is not essentially a religious occurrence; rather, given the millennia-long darkness of our world, these days herald the hope of the One who came and is yet to return.
With hope,
Stan
Ps. You may learn more about Shepherd to Shepherds at stanjohnson.org.; you may give via this link with the note: “Attention: Shepherd to Shepherds.”
"Un-religious"?