I Beg to Differ

In a syndicated newspaper cartoon, Santa Claus is pictured at his work bench putting a new toy together. From his nearby TV set, he hears a reporter saying, “We continue our look at the real meaning of Christmas – sales indicators. Consumers have dramatically cut back their borrowing which could slow the economy, but which might be a healthy development after their earlier borrowing which boosted the economy but added to concerns of low savings and over stimulation, but could result in sluggish sales leading into the all-important Christmas sales period.”

Whereupon, Santa looks up and says to himself, “It used to be a lot easier to know if they’ve been bad or good.”

Have you been bad or good? Do you even know anymore? We expect every child climbing into Santa’s lap to answer that question. But is it a question any of us can answer with any real assurance anymore?

• Did I spend enough time with my kids or grandkids this year?
• Did I really do my best work on the job or at school?
• Did I donate enough money and time to charities this year?
• Did I give wholeheartedly of myself and my time to my church?
• Have I been faithful to my family, my principles, my God throughout this past year?
• Have I been bad enough to add up to bad in general? Or have I been good enough to add up to good in general?

What does it mean to be bad or, more importantly, good? At Christmas we sing good songs often written by questionable characters. King Henry VIII wrote the musical tune Greensleeves, which we sing to What Child is This? But the theme for Henry’s life might as well have been “What Wife is This?”

The gift of the Incarnation reveals that God’s goodness is defined as being present for all and with all. Our God, eternal, omnipotent, almighty, universal, and unchanging, defined goodness in terms of being vulnerable and “hands-on,” not all powerful and hands-off.

The most jolting, the most unexpected quality of the Christmas story is not that God is powerful enough to alter human history with one act. The real shocker is that God became personally present to all in one singular child.

God fully entered into a particular place and a particular time, with all the limitations and frustrations inherent in that time and clime, in order to put the divine hands on history. This God incarnate did not even have the good sense to be born into a family of power and prestige, or to have the advantages of wealth and influence. This hands-on, Emmanuel God found the greatest goodness in a humble birth, in being present for the poor and lowly.

In Luke’s Gospel, “The Magnificat” sings of how one surely beneath God’s attention – a poor peasant girl – became the one chosen and uplifted as a central actor in the incarnation drama. In Matthew’s Gospel, however, with its distinctly male perspective, the hands-on quality of the Incarnation is at first perceived as something truly bad.

Joseph is confronted with the unexpected pregnancy of Mary, his betrothed. This is about as bad as it gets in the first century. Since Joseph knew the child was not his, he prepared to nullify their betrothal agreement. Even though he chose not to publicly vilify Mary, preferring a “quiet” private ceremony, in a small village their story would obviously be the talk of the town.

Mary’s pregnancy could not be hidden. The child’s birth would be indubitable evidence of her apparent immorality and betrayal. Although Joseph intended that she escape the legally sanctioned death by stoning, Mary was about to become permanently scarred by scandal. Joseph himself faced humiliation and a loss of face within the community for allowing himself to be so badly fooled by a young, insignificant woman.

This is good?

But this hands-on God wasn’t finished messing about in this couple’s lives. Through the appearance of an angelic messenger God got hands-on with Joseph, and let him in on the divine hands-on plan for history and his important role in that plan. It is through the actions of Joseph, through the obedience of a faithful man who believed he had been terribly wronged, that everything will turn out all right.

And this brings us to the essence of a goodness that is hands-on. Hands-on goodness means “I Beg to Differ.”

Samuel Rayan, writing in Gifts of Many Cultures, says of candles that they are “a protest at midnight. [Lighting a candle] is a nonconformist gesture. It says to the darkness, ‘I beg to differ.’”

Joseph begged to differ.

To a culture that said “put her away,” Joseph said, “I beg to differ.”

To a world that said God is abstract and aloof, God said, “I beg to differ.”

To be good means to beg to differ, and to pass on that difference.

Former Atlanta mayor and UN ambassador Andrew Young tells about the time that his daughter announced that she had decided she was going to Uganda to work with Habitat for Humanity. Young said it put him in a real bind. After all, he’s a Christian and he had raised her to be a Christian. He supported Habitat for Humanity. But he was also the Ambassador to the United Nations at the time. He knew about Uganda. He knew the danger, the conflicting forces, the risk she was taking.

Young says he tried to talk her out of it, but there was no changing her mind. This was God’s calling for her life. He describes the January morning when he stood at the Atlanta airport, with tears streaming down his cheeks and watching her plane lift off the ground. He said that in that moment he realized, “I always wanted her to be a respectable Christian – not a real one!”

Which will it be for you?

A Christian who strives to be respectable? Or a Christian who begs to differ?

Beg to differ. And pass it on to others.