Beginning of a New Era (Sermon Christmas Eve 2012)

I just returned today from Guatemala.  I was in Guatemala for the celebration of the end of the 13th B'ktun of the Mayan Long Calendar and the beginning of a new era.  Now the Mayan's never said that world was going to end on Dec 21, 2012.  That is just the end of one of their measurements of time - each B'ktun is 144,000 days, or roughly 400 years - and the beginning of a new one.  Mayan sense of time is cyclical or perhaps like a spiral and it is not about projecting an end at all, but rather imagining a repetitive cycle of mythic themes, that imbue ordinary time and place with a connection to eternal spirit.

Mayan people today, in fact much of the government publicity in Guatemala around the B'ktun, speak about the beginning of a new era.  Big banners in the Park in Xela where I was, announced the Beginning of a New Dawn for the Mayan people, the beginning of a new era which we would all join in together.  This hope and expectation has to be understood in the context and reality of Guatemala.

In 1996, with the signing of a peace treaty, Guatemala emerged from a 36 year bloody civil war in which an estimated 200,000 poor and indigenous people were killed or disappeared by a series of repressive military regimes backed by our own US government.  The peace treaty included such things as return of indigenous lands, respect and protection of indigenous spiritual practices and culture. Many of these things are still in process of being incorporated into Guatemalan law.  It is hard for many to have hope, but it would be nice, after so many years of war, that a new era of peace and justice would be dawning, a new time would be coming forth in which the rights of indigenous people would truly be respected.

Such was the message of Mayan speakers during the celebrations I attended. There were calls to end the discrimination against indigenous people, which is still rampant.  People spoke of their desire to work together with all, indigenous and non-indigenous for a new Guatemala.

Similar was the situation and hope of many in Israel in the first century after years of repression by the Roman government.  There was a sense then also of the fullness of time, as many deep hopes for liberation began to coalesce.  Early Christians saw themselves as the first fruits of this new kind of community.  It was the mutual love that they shared with one another that caught the attention of so many in those days.  This hope was repeated in the message the angels proclaimed upon the birth of the little child, "Peace on Earth and Good Will toward All."  It was the same hope echoed in the Song of Mary, a time when the rich would be humbled and the poor would be exalted.  It is the dream of a time in which we would have the strength and power to find a new way to live together.  All of this hope is still wrapped up in the birth of this child tonight.

During my time in Guatemala, I had the chance to listen to Javier who spoke of growing up in Nicaragua in the 70's and becoming a Pentecostal pastor during the revolution there.  He was confronted by the same reality of poverty, injustice and oppression in his country and rereading the story of the Exodus, he became convinced that the gospel was about the liberation of the poor.  He took up the cause of the revolution, joining in the mass protests that, along with the armed rebellion, led to the end of the repressive Bautista government.  He was forced underground because of his convictions.  Many there were also being killed and disappeared just for being poor or helping the poor.  He is the first to speak of the imperfection of worldly governments and of the power that corrupts, yet nevertheless he remains convinced that the work of Christianity is about modeling that Just and Peaceful Kingdom of God which is our hope.

Javier attends San Marcos Episcopal Church in Xela.  The Episcopal Church is a very small slice of the pie in Guatemala and few I talked to had ever heard of it.  It is small but vibrant faith community.  The small chapel was packed the Sunday I attended.  They operate a daily meal program for seniors, and they have a strong ministry with the LGBT community in Xela.  They also do a English speaking service for the international community there.

In the evening we did a posada with folks from the church reenacting Mary and Joseph's search for a place to stay on this night.  I always thought that this was a Mexican tradition, but I was assured by folks at the church that the posada had its origin in Guatemala.  And in fact it is a wide spread practice.   On the way to the church's posada we passed several processions of people caring candles each with a couple dressed as Mary and Joseph.  Our procession ended up in the home of one of the parishioners.  At first the traditional song sung at the porch has the homeowner denying entry then finally they get to come in with the song  Enter Holy Pilgrims, Entre Santos Pereginos.  Inside we were treated to a big party.  They did this for nine nights straight ending up at the church on the last night before the Noche Buena, Christmas Eve, tonight.  A lot of partying. I only made it to one posada.  With the posada the church reenacts one of the central themes that informs all of its work, welcoming the stranger, the other, welcoming all into a new home that has enough room for everyone.

Being in Guatemala again at this time, I was reminded that there are many ways to approach this story.  The bible has been used both to justify oppression as well as proclaim the good news of liberation.  An article I read while there speaks of four ways of approaching the bible and Christianity that have been at play in Central America.

The first reading comes from the church aligned with the conquistadors.  This 500 year history of oppression is very much a real and present reality in Latin America as it is on reservations here in North America though obviously much more hidden from the awareness of many us.  Just one quote from Hernan Cortez will give you an idea: "We carried the flag of the Cross and fought for our faith ... God gave us so much victory that we killed many people ..."

Rios Montt, one of the many military dictators in Guatemala's recent history, now on trial for war crimes,  presided over the bloodiest period of the war.  He was a fervent evangelical who preached constantly to the nation about his God given mission to save Guatemala while at the same time his scorched earth policies, massacres and state sponsored terror sought to "convert" the poor from their support of the revolution by wholesale slaughter of the innocents.

The second reading is a rejection of the bible completely because of its use as a tool of oppression.  When Pope John Paul II visited Central America a group of Indigenous People wrote a letter to the Pope in which they returned the bible to him, "Because," they said, "in five hundred years it has given us neither love, nor peace, nor justice.  Please, take your Bible and give it back to our oppressors, because they need its moral precepts more than we."

A third reading though does find the liberation of the poor in the scriptures, especially in the story of the Exodus as Javier's story illustrates.  Though this reading does not answer the radical question of the other from a different cultural and different faith background.  How do we read the Exodus story as both a story of liberation but at the same time realize that from the Canaanite perspective it is also a story of conquest - a complete devaluation of the other, the stranger.

A fourth reading seeks to take seriously the other, it is an interpretation of the story by and with the indigenous themselves.  This community of indigenous does not reject the bible, quite the opposite has a vibrant faith in the Story of Christ, despite the real historical trauma that comes with the last 500 years. But they also want to reclaim their traditional spiritual practices and the stories that shape them as members of particular people in a particular place - stories in which they also hear God speaking.  They want to incorporate these traditional ways, along with their Christian practices into a fuller expression of their unique identity as children of God as a way of healing themselves from the trauma of the past.

On this Noche Buena, I do believe we are waiting for the dawn of a new era, in which the gospel, even through all the static of domination, is still proclaiming the same hope, that is the deepest hope of the whole world.  The hope that all can be included.  It is not just the one's like us, the Judeo-Christian mother and father and their little child who are welcome, or the deserving poor mother and father and their little child - but it is exactly the radically different, the total stranger, the other mother and father and child that can find a home.  And it is not just about included them in our home on our terms.  It is about the creation of a totally new home, a new community, the first fruits of a new society that we build together as equals.  That we build together through the power of the Spirit that is working in all of us.

I was anticipating for two weeks being able to participate in the Mayan Fire Ceremony.  On the night of Dec 21, a large crowd of Guatemalans gathered in the Park around an inner circle of Mayan worship leaders, their clothing accented with the ropa typica of modern Mayans.  With sugar, they drew a circle and inside the circle a cross representing the center of the world and the four directions.  Then they stood around it and talked for some time with the main leader giving instructions.  Then they slowly began to build the altar.  They made four smaller circles in each section, then added various types of kindling and herbs.  Four tall candles, red, white, yellow, black, represented the four directions, and in the middle a green was for La Tierra, the earth, and Blue for El Cielo, the sky.  The directions also symbolized many other things. For example the white was also the wind, and at one point the leader also said it symbolized Senor Jesus Christo.  Lots more smaller, thicker candles were placed inside the circle, then lots of flowers matching the colors of the outside candles, red, yellow, white, and purple flowers with the black candle.  They lit the six tallest candles, and then there was more waiting and instructions given.  All the time a flute and drum were playing simple music. A bunch of well dressed dignitaries showed up, the Mayor of Quetzaltenango and his entourage.  They joined the circle around the altar.  A long speech greeted the dignitaries.  The leader talked about the hopes for the Mayan people and all people, about peace in the town and country and world. He talked about ending discrimination, bringing justice, reconciliation and the importance of valuing the Mayan culture, this ceremony and the role it had to play for the benefit of the larger society.  Then they lit all the other candles, and the group of Mayan worship leaders knelt down in a circle around the altar and began a series of prayers.  First the leader prayed toward each of the four directions.  Then others prayed. At each they would throw more small candles on to the growing blaze counting with each candle, recalling the days of Mayan calendar and their significance, invoking abuelos, grandparents, reciting a list of all the surrounding mountains, and calling on the heart of the sky and the heart of the earth to listen to them.  "Escuchame el Corazon del Cielo, Escuchame el Corazon de la Tierra."

As we too wait this night for a new beginning, a new birth, let us too join our voices with those who gathered united in a circle around the growing blaze of the Spirit contained in all things.  Let us call upon the Heart of the Earth and Sky to hear our voices as well, to welcome us home as well, along with all the weary pilgrims searching for a new home this night.  "Escuchame el Corazon del Cielo, Escuchame el Corazon de La Tierra." And let us hear the welcome given to all, given to us as well,  "Entren Santos Peregrinos."