God
in the Manger at Bethlehem
.
by Dietrich Bonhoeffer
(1906-1945)
My
Soul Praises the Lord
Sermon given on the Third
Sunday in Advent - December 17, 1933
And Mary said: “My
soul glorifies the Lord and my
spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has been mindful of the
humble state of his servant. From
now on all generations will call
me blessed, for the Mighty One has
done great things for me—holy is
his name. His mercy extends to
those who fear him, from
generation to generation. He has
performed mighty deeds with his
arm; he has scattered those who
are proud in their inmost
thoughts. He has brought down the
rulers from their thrones but has
lifted up the humble. He has
filled the hungry with good
things, but has sent the rich away
empty. He has helped his servant
Israel, remembering to be merciful
to Abraham and his descendants
forever, even as he said to our
fathers.”
Luke 1:46–55
This song of Mary’s is the
oldest Advent hymn. It is the most passionate,
most vehement, one might almost say, most
revolutionary Advent hymn ever sung. It is not
the gentle, sweet, dreamy Mary that we so often
see portrayed in pictures, but the passionate,
powerful, proud, enthusiastic Mary, who speaks
here. None of the sweet, sugary, or childish
tones that we find so often in our Christmas
hymns, but a hard, strong, uncompromising song
of bringing down rulers from their thrones and
humbling the lords of this world, of God’s power
and of the powerlessness of men. These are the
tones of the prophetic women of the Old
Testament: Deborah, Judith, Miriam, coming alive
in the mouth of Mary.
Mary, filled with the
Spirit and prepared. Mary, the obedient
handmaid, humbly accepting what is to happen
to her, what the Spirit asks of her, to do
with her as the Spirit will, speaks now by the
Spirit of the coming of God into the world, of
the Advent of Jesus Christ. She knows better
than anyone what it means to wait for Christ.
He is nearer to her than to anyone else. She
awaits him as his mother. She knows about the
mystery of his coming, of the Spirit who came
to her, of the Almighty God who works his
wonders. She experiences in her own body that
God does wonderful things with the children of
men, that his ways are not our ways, that he
cannot be predicted by men, or circumscribed
by their reasons and ideas, but that his way
is beyond all understanding or explanations,
both free and of his own will.
Where our reason is
offended, where our nature rebels, where our
piety creeps anxiously away, there, precisely
there, God loves to be. There, he confuses the
understanding of the clever. There he offends
our nature, our piety. There he will dwell and
no one can deny him. And now, only the humble
can believe him, and rejoice that God is so
free and so wonderful, that he works miracles
when the children of men despair. He has made
the lowly and humble to be lifted up. That is
the wonder of wonders, that God loves the
lowly: “God has been mindful of the humble
state of his servant.”
God in the “humble state” – that
is the revolutionary, the passionate word of
Advent. First, Mary herself, the wife of a
carpenter. We may say, the poor working man’s
wife, unnoticed by men – but
now, insignificant and in her humble state as
we might see it, she is significant to God and
appointed to be the mother of the Savior of
the world. Not because of some remarkable
human trait in her, not because of some great
piety, not because of her modesty, not because
of any particular virtue in her, but apart
from any of these characteristics, only
because God’s gracious will is to love the
humble and lowly, the insignificant. He chose
to make them great.
Mary, living in the faith
of the Old Testament and hoping for her
redeemer, this humble working man’s wife
becomes the mother of God. Christ the son of a
poor working man’s wife in the East End of
London! Christ in the manger...
God is not ashamed to be
with those of humble state. He goes into the
midst of it all, chooses one person to be his
instrument, and does his miracle there, where
one least expects it. He loves the lost, the
forgotten, the insignificant, the outcasts,
the weak, and the broken. Where men say,
“lost,” he says “found;” where men say,
“condemned,” he says “redeemed;” where men say
“no,” he says “yes.” Where men look with
indifference or superiority, he looks with
burning love, such as nowhere else is to be
found. Where men say, “contemptible!,” God
cries, “blessed.”
When we reach a point in
our lives at which we are not only ashamed of
ourselves, but believe God is ashamed of us
too, when we feel so far from God, more than
we have ever felt in our lives, then and
precisely then, God is nearer to us than he
has ever been. It is then that he breaks into
our lives. It is then that he lets us know
that that feeling of despair is taken away
from us, so that we may grasp the wonder of
his love, his nearness to us, and his grace.
“From now on all
generations will call me blessed,” says Mary.
What does that mean? Mary, a maid of “humble
state,” called “blessed?” It can be no other
than the miracle of God that he has
astonishingly performed on her; God has been
“mindful of the humble state” of Mary and
raised her up; God, coming into the world,
seeks out, not the high and mighty, but the
lowly; that we might see the glory and the
mighty power of God making the down and out
great.
To call Mary “blessed”
does not mean to build her an altar; but with
her to pray to God, who is mindful of the
lowly and chooses them, who has done great
things –
holy is his
name. To call Mary blessed is to know with her
that God’s “mercy extends to those who fear
him,” those who watch and consider his
astonishing ways, who let his Spirit blow
where it will, those who are obedient to him
and with Mary, humbly say, “May it be to me as
you have said.”
When God chose Mary for
his instrument, when God himself in the manger
at Bethlehem decided to come into this world,
that was no romantic family portrait, but the
beginning of a total turning point, a new
ordering of all things on this earth.
If we want to participate
in this Advent and Christmas happening, we
cannot simply be like spectators at a theater
performance, enjoying all the familiar scenes,
but we must ourselves become part of this
activity, which is taking place in this
“changing of all things.” We must have our
part in this drama. The spectator becomes an
actor in the play. We cannot withdraw
ourselves from it.
What part then do we
play? Pious shepherds who bow the knee? Kings,
who bring their gifts? What play then is being
performed when Mary becomes the mother of God?
When God comes in the lowly state of a child
in the manger? It is the judgment of the world
and the salvation of the world that is being
acted out here. And it is the Christ child in
the manger, who judges and saves the world. He
turns back the great and the powerful. He has
brought down the thrones of the rulers. He has
humbled the proud. He has used his power
against the high and mighty, and has raised up
the lowly and made them great and glorious in
his compassion. And therefore we cannot
approach this manger as we approach the cradle
of any other child. But who would go to this
manger goes where something will happen. When
he leaves the manger, he leaves either
condemned or delivered. Here, he will be
broken in pieces or know the compassion of God
coming to him.
What does that mean?
Isn’t it all rhetoric, pastoral exaggeration,
a beautiful, pious legend? What does it mean
that such things are spoken of the Christ
child? If you take this as mere rhetoric, then
you will celebrate Advent and Christmas in the
pagan way that you always have. But to us,
this is no mere rhetoric. For what is true is
that God himself, the Lord and Creator of all
things, here becomes little and helpless, here
in a corner, in seclusion, unnoticed, he
enters the world. Helpless and powerless as a
baby, he meets us and wants to be with us.
This is not trifling or playing games, but
real! The Christ child indicates to us where
he is and who he is and from this place judges
all human pretensions to greatness, dethroning
the rulers and devaluing the proud.
The throne of God in the
world is not as human thrones, but is in the
depths of the human soul, in the manger.
Around his throne, there are not flattering
courtiers, but obscure, unknown,
unrecognizable forms, who cannot see enough of
this wonder and gladly live from God’s mercy
alone.
There are only two places
where the powerful and great in this world
lose their courage, tremble in the depth of
their souls, and become truly afraid. These
are the manger and the cross of Jesus Christ.
No man of violence dares to approach the
manger, even King Herod did not risk that. For
it is here that thrones tumble, the mighty
fall, and the high and mighty ones are put
down, because God is with the lowly. Here the
rich are nobodies, because God is with the
poor and the hungry. “He fills the hungry with
good things but has sent the rich away empty.”
Before the Virgin Mary, before the manger of
Christ, before God in his lowly state, the
rich have no rights and no hope. They are
convicted. The proud man may think that
nothing will happen to him today, yet tomorrow
or the day after, it will happen. God brings
down tyrants from their thrones. God lifts up
the humble. For this purpose, Jesus Christ as
the child in the manger, as the son of Mary,
has come into the world.
In eight days, we shall
celebrate Christmas and now for once let us
make it really a festival of Christ in our
world. Then we must prepare ourselves by
getting rid of something which plays a great
role in our lives. We must be clear about how,
in the face of the manger, we shall think
about what is high and what is low in human
life in the future. Of course, we are not all
powerful, even if we wish we were and we
reluctantly admit it. Only a few are really
powerful. But there are many more with little
power, who when they can, exert what power
they have, and live with one thought: that
they might have greater power!
God’s thoughts are the
opposite. He desires to be even lower, in
humble state, unnoticed, in
self-forgetfulness, in insignificance, in
worthlessness, not wishing to be high. And it
is on this road that we meet with God himself.
Everyone of us lives side by side with some
whom we call great, and some whom we call low.
Every one of us has someone who is below us.
Is it possible that this Christmas we could
rethink this radical point, learning and
knowing that our way, insofar as it is the way
to God, leads us not to the high and mighty,
but really into the depths, to the humble and
poor? And that every way of life, which is
only a way up higher must end in disaster?
God is not mocked. It is
not a light thing to God that every year we
celebrate Christmas and do not take it
seriously. His word holds and is certain. When
he comes in his glory and power into the world
in the manger, he will put down the mighty
from their seats, unless ultimately,
ultimately they repent. It is a very important
matter for a congregation that they understand
this point and that they see the consequences
for their life together. There is much to
think about here about the direction this
congregation is taking.
Who of us would want to
celebrate Christmas correctly? Who will
finally lay at the manger all power, all
honor, all reputation, all vanity, all pride,
and all selfishness? Who is content to be
lowly and to let God alone be high? Who sees
the glory of God in the humble state of the
child in the manger? Who says with Mary: “The
Lord has been mindful of my humble state. My
soul praises the Lord and my spirit rejoices
in God my Savior?” Amen.
Excerpt from I Stand at the Door and
Knock: Advent and Christmas Sermons
by Dietrich Bonhoeffer, edited and
translated from German into English by
Edwin Robertson, copyright © 2005,
published in the UK
Dietrich Bonhoeffer
(1906-1945) was a German Lutheran pastor
and a founding member of the Confessing
Church. He was the first of the German
theologians to speak out clearly against
the persecution of the Jews and the
evils of the Nazi ideology. In spring of
1935 Dietrich Bonhoeffer was called by
the Confessing Church in Germany to take
charge of an “illegal,” underground
seminary at Finkenwalde, Germany (now
Poland). He served as pastor,
administrator, and teacher there until
the seminary was closed down by Hitler's
Gestapo in September,1937.
In the seminary at Finkenwalde
Bonhoeffer taught the importance of
shared life together as disciples of
Christ. He was convinced that the
renewal of the church would depend upon
recovering the biblical understanding of
the communal practices of Christian
obedience and shared life. This is where
true formation of discipleship could
best flourish and mature.
Bonhoeffer’s teaching led to the
formation of a community house for the
seminarians to help them enter into and
learn the practical disciplines of the
Christian faith in community. In 1937
Bonhoeffer completed two books, Life
Together and The Cost of
Discipleship. They were first
published in German in 1939. Both books
encompass Bonhoeffer’s theological
understanding of what it means to live
as a Christian community in the Body of
Christ.
He was arrested and imprisoned by the
Gestapo in April 1943. On April 8, 1945
he was hanged as a traitor in the
Flossenburg concentration camp. As he
left his cell on his way to execution he
said to his companion, "This is the end
– but for me, the beginning of life."
photo
of Bonhoeffer in the courtyard of Tegel
prison, summer 1944; source:
Christian Kaiser Verlag
Adoration
of the Shepherds, painting by El Greco
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