Emmanuel

Look, the young woman shall become pregnant and give birth to a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel, which means, God is with us [Isaiah 7:14b, Matthew 1:23, NRSV].

Some years ago, a friend and I were engaged in a discussion related to Paul’s “Corinthian correspondence.” Specifically, we were examining the initial chapter of Paul’s first letter to the gathering at Corinth. Within that chapter, Paul sets the context for his overall communication. My friend had honed in on a particular verse that, depending upon your translation, reads something like this:

But we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles [1 Corinthians 1:23, NRSV].

He allowed that he could understand the “foolishness to Gentiles” part of Paul’s statement. After all, human culture teaches that strength comes from strength; it cannot arise out of weakness. Our culture teaches us not to give someone our shirt or our coat; we might still need it. Culture does not advise us to turn the other cheek to those who strike us. My friend added that it was neither logical nor reasonable to craft the salvation of the cosmos from the summary execution of a renegade first century rabbi like Jesus. My friend continued, “But what about the Jews? Weren’t they actually looking for a messiah? What about the crucifixion would have been a stumbling block for them?”

I gave my friend one of the several stock seminary answers that I carry around. I said, “Well, for one thing, the Torah teaches that a man hanged on a tree is cursed” [Deuteronomy 21:22]. I went on to say that for many first century Jews, the Messiah could not be someone who was convicted of a capital crime and then executed on a cross (i.e., a tree), even if his trial had been a sham. Such an ignominious end for the One prophesied by Isaiah just couldn’t be.

My friend responded, “Well, for quite a few first century Jews, including one whose original name was Saul, the cross turned out not to be such a stumbling block.” He was right, of course. Most of the initial group of believers in Christ were Jewish. Many continued to worship in synagogues on the Jewish Sabbath, at least until they were barred from doing so. I then added something like, “Well, it isn’t just Christ’s death that is problematic. His birth is just as enigmatic.”

By that I meant that there is just so much about the birth of Christ that is contrary to our thought processes. It doesn’t make sense. Consider the core message of Christmas that is provided in both the Old Testament lesson, Isaiah 7:10-16, and the Gospel lesson, Matthew 1:18-25, appointed for this upcoming Sunday, the Fourth Sunday of Advent (RCL, Year A).

Look, the young woman shall become pregnant and give birth to a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel, which means, God is with us[Isaiah 7:14b, Matthew 1:23, NRSV].

Who is this God about whom Isaiah writes? How is that God caught up within the birth of a child in Bethlehem? And most importantly: How is this God with us?

As you know, the world says that Christmas needs to be expressed in terms of the lowest common denominator. And so, Christmas becomes an annual event designed to give us a reason for Winter parades down Main Street in rural America. It’s one of several late December holidays that we can all be “happy” about, particularly if we don’t bog down in theology. As we see in advertisements, Christmas is the search for that “perfect gift that says you love her.” It’s the glitter and gleam in the eye of the five-year-old who awaits the visit of St. Nick. It’s the taste of egg nog. Oh! If we push it just a little, Christmas is (or was, before COVID) the red kettle and the clanging bell of the Salvation Army, the extra year-end donation we make to St. Jude’s Hospital, the Nativity scene that has been handed down from generation to generation.

But is that really Christmas? Nothing like what I just described is found in the writing of Isaiah. Matthew doesn’t even add, “He’s the reason for the Season.” No, Christmas—real Christmas—is something else. According to Isaiah and Matthew, Christmas is earth-shattering; it’s life changing. It’s uncontrollable; it refuses to be tamped down into something “nice,” for in Christmas, God fulfills the promise given to Isaiah that God will be with us.

How can the Almighty God be with us? Most of us think of God as being totally transcendent or—and here’s a Divinity School phrase that some of us like to throw around—“totally other.” God can’t really be with us. We’re not allowed true proximity with the Deity. Lowly humanity cannot approach God.

Indeed, Yahweh told Moses, “You cannot see my face, for no one shall see me and live [Exodus 33:20]. Or what about the story of poor Uzzah [2 Samuel 6:6]. You remember that one, don’t you? Uzzah and his brother, Ahio (the sons of Abinadab) were driving a cart that bore the “ark of God.” The cart was being pulled by oxen and, unfortunately, one of them lurched. Thinking the ark was about to fall from the cart, Uzzah reached over to steady it. In that instance, God struck him dead. One wasn’t allowed to touch God.

And yet, in Christmas, the church makes a radical, powerful claim that at a particular time in human history, at a particular place, in humble surroundings, and with little fanfare, God fulfilled His promise and came to be with us.

At a specific time, Mary, the Theotokos (“God-bearer”), gave physical birth to the Bethlehem child. No doubt Joseph assisted in the delivery and helped Mary swaddle the infant. Can’t you imagine that Mary and Joseph allowed the shepherds to hold the baby Jesus close to their own hearts for a little while?

God, though transcendent, made Himself known to the world through Jesus. The One who lives in eternity chose to dwell with us in finite time. The One upon whom no one could gaze, cooed, and smiled at those around Him. The Almighty and All-Powerful allowed Himself to become vulnerable, for our sake. The accessible Savior bore our sin, though He knew no sin of His own.

Emmanuel: Is God with us? In a true sense, I think each of us must decide. It is certainly easy to think that God is not with us, particularly in this Season, with all its commercialism, with all its sappy sentiment. And yet, what stirs within your heart but the Spirit of God that longs to be near you, longs to be with you, longs to show you that God knows you better than you know yourself?

Some of us may imagine that God cannot come close to us; we don’t deserve such divine proximity. We think our own presence near God’s might taint the sanctity and beauty of the Divine. God begs to disagree. He sends us a sign. The sign’s name is Emmanuel.