**A freshly hewn marble block and the Manger**

**A freshly hewn marble block and the Manger**

Rev. Jerry J. Pokorsky

Here is an amusing true story at the expense of an unnamed celebrity. A snowstorm caused the cancelation of many flights, and the airline representative was unable to accommodate the celebrity’s wishes. Frustrated, the VIP angrily demands, “Do you know who I am?” In response, a long-suffering customer, patiently standing in line behind, dropped his luggage and muttered, “Oh, great. I’m in the middle of a snowstorm, trying to get home for Christmas, and now the guy in front of me doesn’t know who he is!”

We have space travel, computers, the internet, and health care that kings and queens of centuries past would envy. But we do not know who we are. How else can we explain this now-routine question on medical questionnaires: What is your sex assigned at birth? If we can’t get our sexuality right, what other realities are we missing?

The root of our self-identity problem is a growing inability to grasp with clarity the meaning of words. “Google,” for example, is a verb of recent vintage, so young people do not need a definition. We need proper historical references to grasp the full meaning of words. It’s a fair guess that most young adults have no idea of the meaning of “gulag.” Our schools place little or no emphasis on the history of Communist tyranny, so the term has lost its terrible impact.

Cultural arrogance often distorts our historical perspective. We tend to think that contemporary computer and technical genius is the high point of civilization. When we speak of Christian morality, we commonly hear the objection, “But this is the 21st Century!” We consider ourselves superior to all that came before us and often view our past as an embarrassment. So statues of great American generals must come down, and the names of schools must change to appease modern sensibilities.

Pondering the ruins of ancient civilizations abases our arrogance. Age has discolored the stone, and time has left many structures in collapse. Amongst the ruins in Athens, the custodians provide a bright white recently-hewn block of marble. The contrast of the contemporary piece to the ancient remnant is striking. The unweathered stone provokes the imagination and allows one to visualize the remnants as bright and elegant, unique structures that rival the splendor of modern skyscrapers. The ancients were hardly our inferiors.

The evangelists were realists and not ashamed of history. The genealogy of Jesus includes saints and sinners. The evangelists were not interested in tearing down any statues – except those of false gods -- to make way for the Word of God. They knew that honest historical perspectives provide the proper context for the Word made flesh.

Heresy is subversive. Every heresy has to do with the misrepresentation or manipulation of words and history. Of course, academic language can be challenging, and the study of history is hard work. But it’s intellectual hubris to suggest that Scriptural history and the study of theology, belong to the experts alone.

Some theologians use a mischievous phrase: “The early Church put on the lips of Jesus….” But if the Gospel is an early Church invention, the Scriptures lose their authoritative historical value and become merely polemical documents. The tampering places the faithful on notice: The experts do not assist us in the understanding of the authoritative words of Jesus. Rather, the words of Jesus assist in understanding the authoritative words of the experts. An inaccessible and politicized Gospel without historical roots discourages prayer and distorts spiritual insights.

The modern tendency toward excessive sentimentality also threatens to undermine the Gospels as the word of God revealed as history. During the Advent and Christmas seasons, there is always a danger that we reduce Gospel characters to religious cartoons. The problem becomes particularly acute when we allow a few experts to persuade us that the Gospels are religious myths borrowed from the surrounding culture. Saint Peter objects: “For we did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we were eyewitnesses of his majesty.” (2 Peter 1:16)

But if we take the words of the Gospel at face value (subject to wise correction when needed), we open ourselves to spiritual treasures. In the infancy narratives, Mary encounters the Angel Gabriel. “And behold, your kinswoman Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son, and this is the sixth month with her who was called barren.” (Luke 1:36) Mary visits her “in haste” and “remained with her about three months, and returned to her home.” (Luke 1:56) Except for the angelic encounter, the Visitation is an ordinary family gathering.

But do the math. Add three months to six months, and it is clear Mary stayed with Elizabeth until the birth of John. It’s safe to assume that Mary witnessed the amusing account of Zechariah’s family argument over John’s name. Mary also probably heard and remembered Zechariah’s Benedictus prayer of prophecy, “Blessed be the Lord God of Israel….”

Evidence of Mary’s testimony is prevalent throughout the Gospels, but her reported words are few. Perhaps Mary directed the evangelists to keep her profile low. Regardless, Mary’s humble and mostly unattributed testimony preserves the historical character of the Gospels.

When we ponder the manger scene, we do not gaze upon the cartoons of a Hallmark greeting card. We contemplate the memories of real people of recorded history: the shepherds, the three kings, Mary and Joseph, and the Child Jesus. (Keep the little drummer boy in place. A little sentimentality doesn’t hurt.)

With confidence in the history of the Word, we discover who they are, and we begin to realize who we are. “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16)