The Thick of Foes

This may not seem much like an advent post.  It may seem completely incongruous with the Spirit of Christmas.  The "thick of foes" feels way more epic, like a Lord of the Rings chapter or something from the Game of Thrones.

And here we are.  It's Christmas.  And I'm reading Bonhoeffer.

He opens with, "Jesus Christ lived in the midst of his enemies."  As the staff prayed together for Sunday's sermon, I'm struck by the Jesus who not only lived in the midst of his enemies, but was born in the midst of the enemy Herod and died in the company of a mocker.  The gospel accounts are no less expressive with stories pock-marked by people who wanted to throw him off of cliffs, friends who deserted him, family who questioned him, people who talked about his "shameful" conception, and those that just plain hated him.  The thick of foes.

We think of places around the world that are still hostile to the life-giving, life-breathing message of Jesus.  Foreign places with foreign names that we may never see but we pray for or send money to.  Enemies of the gospel, enemies of the message of hope.  But Jesus would be there.

And in familiar places, like Michigan, Kalamazoo, Portage, Dowagiac, Grand Rapids...places I drive to on the weekends, shop in, eat at.  They are full of enemies too.  Friends of Jesus that deserted him.  Family members who are now hurling hateful questions.  People that talk about him shamefully.  People that hate Jesus.  Yet he would be there too.

So where am I this Christmas season?  I can say I've been to the far off countries.  But where am I here, with my familiar foes?  Worse yet, what are those things that sit quietly in the corners of my heart that turn it from fertile soil to enemy territory?

James 4:4 warns us about friendship with the world making us enemies of God.  When I buy into the worldly way of doing business, desiring revenge, bypassing grace, putting myself first, I embrace the fast friendship the world has to offer.  When I worry more about buying the right gifts, giving with regret, having things my way, I introduce to the Christmas table a new friend and a new enemy.

I am so grateful for a Jesus who did not shy away from his enemies.  I can't sanitize my corrupted Christmas heart and make excuses.  There are days when I have to ask the prince of peace to be reborn anew in the unfriendly fire of my weary holiday heart.  And he doesn't shrink or shake.  He comes and corrects and cleans.  He cares.

I'm not going to nail it everyday.  I'm grateful for the grace that says that that is ok.  But I DO know that I want to be more friend than foe.  And I want to bring that friend to everyone I know, right here, right now.  Paul sums up this epic struggle to live everyday in that grace to the church in Galatia, and tells them how it's possible - the great mystery and love of our King Jesus: I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. - Galatians 2:20

Eliza Cortés Bast