Daniel 6:6-27
Talk
to me about the war on Christmas. How many of you are having a hard time
finding Christmas decorations? How many of your family members have met you in
back alleys to exchange cards, hoping to be undetected? Other than the icy
roads, who was worried about coming here today? Has anyone been so deluged by
Happy Holidays, Happy Hanukkah, or Kwanzaa commercialism that they just felt
unable to get a word in edgewise for the Christmas holiday? Anyone?
It
is hard for me to listen to rhetoric about the “war on Christmas” and think
about religious persecution around the world that happens today, both to
Christians and non-Christians. It’s hard for me to listen to rants about the
“war on Christmas” and to read about Daniel at the same time. Here is a story
about real persecution and real faith. A story about a young Jewish exile,
likely born in Babylon, never having seen Jerusalem… he serves under four
kings, the first two of which change his name- not calling him by his Hebrew
name Daniel, but by the Greek name- Belteshazzar. Daniel serves at the pleasure
of the king and does not hold back from the obviousness of his true devotion to
the one God.
Daniel
maintains a strict diet (see Daniel 1), interprets dreams (Daniel 3-5), and
finally refuses to cave to pressure from jealous rivals and does not stop
worshipping God (Daniel 6). This story is almost intimidating in Daniel’s
faithfulness. He has no guarantee that God will prevent the lions from
destroying him. God didn’t prevent the exile into Babylon. Daniel’s only
comfort is in trusting in God’s faithfulness above all else- above the
desertion of exile, above the power of King Darius, above the ferocious nature
of the lions.
When
I think of what it means to live faithfully, under those kind of conditions,
the much-discussed “war on Christmas” becomes unimpressive indeed. As we enter
the season of Advent today, we are called to ponder what are the lions that
face us? What is the exile we experience?
We
know that Christmas, the holy day (as opposed to the holiday), is not for
another 22 days, beginning the evening of 24 December. Believing that
God-with-us, Emmanuel, has already been born into world once, is present with
us still, and yet will come again, what are we waiting for? The exile we
experience is the space between what we believe is true and what we observe
around us.
We
believe in the Prince of Peace and yet we do not see peace. We believe in the
Spirit of Consolation and still we see many who are not consoled, grieving,
anguished. We believe in the Creator of all that is seen and unseen and yet we
see many who struggle- some because of their own decisions, some because of the
actions of others. We believe a light shines in the darkness and the darkness
has not overcome it, yet the darkness still seems very, very deep (and not just
because it’s winter in Alaska).
The
lions that slink around us in Advent are both obvious and subtle. There are
showy lions of commercialism, decadence, and acquisition. Their roars tempt us
to place our hope in things that are shiny and promising now. Then there are
the subtle, hungry lions of hopelessness, frustration, depression, and isolation.
Their sneak attacks undercut our ability to stand false brightness of the
holiday and leave us unprepared for the holy day. The war on Christmas isn’t
some outside entity, but a struggle that happens within us and around us to
undercut our waiting hope- emphasized this time of year, but lived out every
day of the year.
Our
Advent exile- our time apart, waiting in hope- gives us the opportunity to
fight off these lions, to dare to be a Daniel and to pray beyond the falseness
of their promises. In this season of waiting, we are presented with the chance
to exercise our faithfulness, our hope in God, our expectation of holiness, our
trust in the promise of Emmanuel, God-with-us. And, like Daniel, our
faithfulness only stands in the light- the undimmed light- of the One God who
is the gifter, sustainer, and perfecter, who is Faithfulness itself.
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