In today's Gospel reading we hear of the terrible slaughter of young children by King Herod, following the news or rumour that someone from the ancient house of David -- a house that had not ruled Israel for some 500 years by that time -- someone from that ancient line of kings had been born in Bethlehem and was being hailed as the new King of the Jews.  Herod was not a Jew, but an Idumean from the region around Perea, and he had not come to his throne by inheritance, but by shrewd maneuvering as the line of Priestly kings battled each other.  Herod was one of their generals, and like still happens today, found the right opportunity to insert himself into the top job because he had the army at his command.

When I think about that terrible slaughter, I think about all those kinds of events as they continue to unfold today.  What Herod did is not so different from what is happening in the Darfur region of Sudan, or happened in the last 20 years in places like southern Sudan, Somalia, Guatemala, El Salvador, Peru, East Timor, Chechnya, Bosnia-Herzegovina, Kosovo, and other places.  Those of who were alive seventy years ago will remember the chaos and savagery that accompanied the fighting in World War II.

When I think about these things I think about the deep wounds that people receive at such times.  Some of these wounds are, of course physical.  For example, my Pastor at my home church (Hollywood Lutheran Church), Harry Durkee -- a kind, gentle, witty man, had a steel plate in his head because in World War II a sniper's bullet tore the side of his head away.  He had to live in a place like southern California because changes in temperature caused severe headaches for him, as the metal expanded and contracted in his skull.

But beyond these obvious wounds are the more difficult to name emotional, mental, and spiritual wounds.  We have seen recently what these can lead to in extreme cases, as in the example of the former Canadian soldier who had served in Afghanistan, and who found it so difficult to come to terms with these hidden emotional, mental, and spiritual wounds, that he committed the so-called act of "suicide by cop," provoking the police to shoot him so as to put himself out of his misery.

This shows us just how significant these emotional, mental, and spiritual wounds can be, and how important it is to address them.

Today we are going to offer anointing with oil and laying on of hands for healing in the tradition of the ancient church, as we read about it in the New Testament, and see it practiced for some centuries after that until it lapsed for various social and theological reasons.  In the last 50 years many mainline denominations have sought to reclaim this ancient heritage.

I think it is always important to precede the rite of Healing with teaching, so as to dispel misconceptions, and to prepare the proper context for approaching God with prayers for healing and for receiving the oil of anointing.

So often we associate church rites for healing with the spectacular healings of the television preachers, which focus on the physical side of things.  But I think our aim is primarily emotional, mental, and spiritual, all of which will of course have some influence and impact on the physical side of things.

To help us conceptualize this, I have prepared a simple schematic.  In this schematic I try to show how our physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual aspects relate to each other.  The body contains most of all of these aspects, but the spiritual is drawn crossing out of the body because it is the aspect of ourselves that reaches out to a power beyond us -- God -- for its energy.  When a trauma is introduced into our lives, such as the terrible events described in today's Gospel reading, or war in general, or something like disease, broken relationships, economic hardship, or whatever it might be, the experience has an impact on one or more of these areas, and then spills over into the other areas.  For example, if one is a witness to a brutal act of violence, but was not personally attacked, such as witnessing a murder or going through what Romeo Dalaire went through in Rwanda, the images imprint themselves in our minds, and from there have an effect on our emotions and on our spirits.  It may well be then that mind, emotions, and spirit create a drag on the body and various manifestations of the mental/emotional trauma manifest physical symptoms such as insomnia, digestive disorders, heart problems, hypersensitive defensive instincts, and so on.  Untreated, these can lead to all kinds of further complications.  While it may be tempting to merely treat the physical symptoms, it is the mental, emotional, and spiritual side that has to find healing.  The physical side will then begin to mend itself.

While it may be that under some special and unusual circumstances a physical healing can take place, the place where we here are focusing our attention is on those three circles: spiritual, emotional, and mental.  Here is where we seek healing first and foremost in this rite for Healing.

While the mental and emotional aspects of this diagram are well understood thanks to psychology, physiology, and brain research, the spiritual is least understood, and yet is the unique domain of religious faith.  The spiritual is the aspect of the human which connects directly to God.  It is the place within us where God touches us most directly, but it is also the part of most of us which is most neglected.

Recovering alcoholics know all too well the importance of engaging and developing the spiritual side of themselves in order to be healed.  They recognize that their illness is beyond their own power to overcome, and that they must call on a "higher power," something beyond them, something we recognize to be God.

I think that healing is essentially a restoration of balance and wholeness, a restoration of "shalom" within a person.  We often pray, "God, take this away from me," but like Paul we find that whatever it is does not go away.  Paul learned through his physical ailment that God works through our weaknesses.  I would say that he did experience healing, but it was not in the removal of his physical ailment, but in coming to see that God was working through in by means of that illness.  He found peace, shalom, inner balance, contentment with much and with little.

When we engage the spiritual side of ourselves, I think we begin to see things in a very different light.  The spiritual side influences the mental side which influences the emotional side.  We are changed on the inside, and we see the world with new eyes.  We are made whole, even if what burdened us was not removed.

When it comes to mental and emotional wounds, I think they begin to heal when we surrender them to God, and let God work through them.  It may be that God is making of you someone who can show compassion to others who have experienced the same thing.  It may be that the memory, and the accompanying emotional response, will actually be lifted from you.  There are many possibilities, but we will never know until we actually lift them up to God, and say, "Here, O God, in Jesus Christ I surrender all my hurt and pain to you.  Do with it as you know to be best."

When I read this passage about the slaughter of the innocents in Bethlehem, I often think about the families who saw their babies killed, and the soldiers who did the killing.  I think about the deep wounds, and the hardened hearts.  I wonder what they did with those wounds and how they played themselves out in their physical selves.  I hope they were able to surrender the wounds to God and find the healing that was right.  I hope we can also surrender our wounds to God and find the same.  Amen.

One of my favourite films of all time is Tim Burton's "The Nightmare Before Christmas."  I love this little stop action animation film because it speaks at so many different levels.  If you're not familiar with it, let me summarize briefly.  The main character is Jack the Pumpkin King who lives in Halloween Town.  He is, so it seems, the most popular and the scariest inhabitant of Halloween Town.  Every year he is the grand finale to the Halloween Parade, and everyone looks to him to plan the next year's parade.  But Jack is bored with the same-old, same-old.  It has all become so routine and empty.  He wanders off into the woods to have time alone.

Eventually he stumbles onto a circular grove of large trees.  On the trunk of each tree is a door in the shape of a symbol for a holiday.  There is a shamrock shaped door, a turkey shaped door, an Easter Egg shaped door, and of course a door shaped like a Christmas Tree.  But Jack doesn't recognize any of these pictures.  He is drawn strongly to the beautifully decorated Christmas Tree shaped door.  He opens it and gets sucked in.

Suddenly he finds himself in a place that is unlike anything he's ever experienced.  Everywhere there are bright colours: the white snow, the Christmas lights on the houses, the decorated trees, the elves dressed in bright green and red outfits.  Back in Halloween Town the only colours are black, gray, and a muted orange.  Here in what is obviously Christmas Town, there are also good smells of baking, happy smiles, dreams untroubled by nightmares, and no monsters under any beds or staircases.

Jack is so taken by this place that he steals a half-track, loads it up with a Christmas tree, wrapped presents, stockings, and other things, and takes it all back to Halloween Town.  He is so excited he puts on a presentation for the townsfolk to try to tell them about the wonderful place called Christmas Town, and the wonderful feeling there.  But for all his visual aids, the vampires and ghouls and witches and zombies of Halloween Town can only interpret everything through what they know.  The wrapped presents must be for scaring people.  The stockings must have severed feet, and so on.  Finally, in exasperation, Jack caves into their way of thinking and makes up a description of the terrifying ruler of Christmas Town: a great giant named Sandy Claws who flies through the air on a bewitched sleigh.

Jack loves the feeling he had in Christmas Town, so he decides that he and the people of Halloween Town can make Christmas themselves.  So he sends three nasty little trick-or-treaters to kidnap Sandy Claws, so that he, Jack, can take his place.  Meanwhile he sets all the ghouls and vampires and witches and zombies of Halloween Town to work making presents for him to deliver on his sleigh.  The presents are all filled with frightening and terrifying things.  The sleigh is made from a coffin, and is pulled by the enchanted skeletons of dead reindeer.  The whole thing backfires and Jack's plans crumble in disaster.  I won't tell you how it ends, but let this be enough for me to lift out what I find so compelling and apropos for Christmas Eve.

For me, The Nightmare Before Christmas is the story of the artist, the visionary, the prophet, the mystic, who has had a glimpse of something other, something amazing and beyond description.  The artist, the visionary, the prophet, the mystic, of course, wants to take hold of this sense, this experience, this image, this hope, and try to make it understandable to ordinary folks, but so often it doesn't work, or it backfires because no one else has had that experience, and so no one else really gets it.

    We all have encountered what I am going to call "the dream of Christmas."  It is the dream of a Christmas of warmth and love and happiness as families gather to eat good food, share good table fellowship, give and receive gifts as tokens of their love for each other, and also give to or do something for those who have to go without.  It is the image that is held up to us in movies, songs, and stories.  For many of us it is the distillation of the best snippets of memory we have of our childhood Christmases -- like all childhood memories, they are memories devoid of adult concerns such as bills, strained marriages, simmering fights with relatives, bouts of depression, and so on.

But from an adult perspective, the dream of Christmas often becomes the nightmare of Christmas, of even The Nightmare Before Christmas.  We try so hard.  We put so many expectations on the day, on the event, on the experience, that we and the day are condemned to let us down.  All the hard work of getting presents isn't appreciated.  All the hard work of preparing the festivities for others goes unacknowledged.  All of the hype seems to end in a kind of let down as the wrapping paper lies strewn around the floor, the evening's festivities have degenerated into uneasy silence, or inebriated foolishness, or the heaviness of having simply overdone it.  We want to have a good time, but somehow it never quite amounts to the dream of Christmas that we remember.  We try to make Christmas as we remember it, but find that it doesn't quite work.  The flip side of this is, of course, the reality for those people who are forced to celebrate without a loved one for the first time, after the death of a spouse, a parent, a child, or a sibling.  The high emotional load placed on the season only heightens the sense of grief and loss.

But here is where we see the difference between the dream of Christmas and what I am going to call the Vision of Christmas.  The Vision of Christmas is what we see in the Gospel texts (Matthew and Luke) written about Christmas.  What we see is anything but ideal.  A pregnant woman is forced to have her baby in a stable, amid all the animal excrement -- hardly sanitary, hardly ideal, hardly "cozy" or beautiful.  Why is she there?  Because her people have been made subject to a foreign military power, and the puppet king who rules her people must do as his foreign masters dictate.  She and her husband have no voice, no say.  There are no ombudsmen or MP's or MLA's to complain to.  They just have to do whatever they're told to do or get thrown into a rat infested dungeon or worse.  In Matthew we hear of a terrible slaughter of young children by this puppet king because he fears for his throne.  The woman and her baby with her husband become refugees.  Lucky for them some country took them in (Egypt).  Not everyone likes refugees, you know.  Oh, and the woman's pregnancy: it is unexplained, at least in ordinary terms.  Even her husband admits its not his child.  Now remember, this is not today.  This is in a society where women get killed for something like this, get a bunch of rocks thrown at them until they're dead.  Very ugly.  Horrible.  The first Christmas.

The Vision of Christmas is not about the perfect holiday get-together.  Rather, it is about God with us in all the crap -- literally in the stable, but also figuratively in the politics, in the crazy and unhealthy things that our society and culture throw at us, and in all the emotional heartache when it seems like nothing is going our way.  That's the Vision of Christmas, and it isn't something you would try to make or create, because we, the human race, have already made it and created it without trying.  But it becomes Christmas when we recognize in it: that God is with us; that God is walking along side of us; that God is holding our hands through it; that God is offering some guidance and strength through it.  That's the Vision of Christmas.

So this year, and especially next year, don't let the lure and temptation of the dream of Christmas suck you into making the Nightmare Before Christmas.  Rather, remember the Vision of Christmas: no matter how bad things get for you, God is there.  God is with you to lead you through.  Merry Christmas.

Ein Lieblingsfilm von mir ist "The Nightmare Before Christmas" von Tim Burton.  Mir gefällt dieser kleine Animationsfilm weil er auf so vielen verschiedenen Ebenen spricht.  Ich fasse ihn kurz zusammen, falls er unbekannt ist.

Die Hauptgestallt im Film ist Jack the Pumpkin King, der in Halloween Town wohnt.  Er ist der populärste und schrecklichste bewohner von Halloween Town.  Jedes Jahr ist er das große Finale der Halloweenparade, und jeder verlässt sich auf ihn, die Parade für's kommende Jahr zu planen und gestallten.  Dem Jack ist die Sache aber langweilig geworden: immer dasselbe, immer dasselbe.  Die jährliche Routine wirkt ihm hohl.  Er geht in den Wald, um dort etwas Zeit alleine zu verbringen.

Nach langem wandern befindet er sich in einem Kreis von großen Bäumen.  Auf dem Stamm von jedem Baum ist eine Tür im Umriß von dem Symbol von einem Feiertag: eine Tür wie ein Kleeblatt, eine andere wie ein Truthahn, eine andere wie ein Osterei, und natürlich eine wie ein Weihnachtsbaum.  Der Jack erkennt diese Symbole nicht, doch zieht ihn die schon gezierte, weihnachtsbaumformige Tür stark an.  Er öffnet sie und wird in die Öffnung reingezogen.

Plötzlich befindet er sich an einem Ort welcher keinem anderen gleicht, den er je erlebt hat.  Überall sind die Farben hell und leuchtend: der weiße Schnee, die bunte Lichter an den Häusern, die geschmückten Bäume, die Elfen in ihren grünen und roten kleidern.  In Halloween Town ist alles nur schwarz, grau, oder orangenfarbig.  Hier, in was offensichtlich Christmas Town ist, gibt es auch den guten Geruch vom Backen, fröhliches Gelächter, Träume ohne Alpträume, und keine Ungeheuer unter  Betten oder Stiegen.

Der Jack wird so hingenommen von diesem Ort, daß er ein Fahrzeug klaut und es mit allerlei Weihnachtszeug aufladet (ein Weihnachtsbaum, eingewickelte Geschenke, die Strümpfe vom Kamin, und anderes) um es alles nach Halloween Town zurückzu bringen.  Er ist so aufgeregt, daß er in Halloween Town sofort eine Vorführung für die Bewohner des Orts gestalltet, um allen von dem wundervollen Christmas Town zu erzählen, und von dem wunderlichen Gefühl, welches er dort bekommen hat.  Doch trotz alle Beispiele, die er aus Christmas Town zurückgebracht hat, können die Vampire und Geister und Hexen und lebende Leichen von Halloween Town alles nur durch das was sie kennen interpretieren.  Sie meinen, die eingewickelte Geschenke müßten doch was verborgen halten, um Leute zu erschrecken.  Sie meinen, die großen Strümpfe müßten doch abgehackte Füße enthalten, usw.  Verärgert, läßt sich der Jack auch in ihre Denkweise ein und erfindet eine Beschreibung für den Herrscher dieses Weihnachtsdorfs, eine gewisser Riese mit Namen "Sandy Claws," also "Sandkrallen", der auf einem verhexten Schlitten durch die Luft fliegt.

Der Jack liebt aber dieses Gefühl, diese gewisse Gemütlichkeit, die er in Christmas Town bekommen hat.  Er kommt nun darauf, daß doch er und das Volk von Halloween Town selber Weihnachten gestallten könnten.  So schicky er drei böse kleine Trick-or-Treaters, den Sandy Claws zu entführen, damit er, der Jack, an des Weihnachtsmanns Stelle treten kann.  Der Jack stellt dann alle Geister und Vampire und Hexen und lebende Leichen von Halloween Town an, Geschenke herzustellen, die er dann auf seinem eigenen Schlitten an die Kinder der Welt bringen wird.  Die Geschenke werden, dem entprechend, mit gruslige und erschreckende Sachen gefüllt.  Der Schlitten wird aus einem Sarg hergestellt, und von den verhexten Skeletten von toten Rentieren gezogen.  Das ganze Unternehmen geht aber schief, und dem Jack seine Pläne brechen zusammen.  Ich sage nicht wie der Film zuende geht, aber dies soll nun genügen, um hervorzuheben, was ich an diesem Film so toll und passend am Heligabend finde.

Für mich ist der Film, The Nightmare Before Christmas die Geschichte von dem Künstler, dem Voraussehenden, von dem Propheten, dem Mystiker, der etwas neues und unbekanntes erblickt hat; etwas Unbescreibbares.  Der Künstler, der Vorausehende, der Prophet, der Mystiker möchte, natürlich, diesen Sinn, diese Erfahrung, dieses Bild, diese Hoffnung greifen und begreifen um es dann für andere verständlich zu machen.  Doch so oft geht der Versuch fehl oder wird einfach mißverstanden, weil kein Anderer diese Erhahrung gemacht hat.  Die anderen kommen einfach nicht mit.

Wir haben alle schon etwas begegnet, das ich "den Traum von Weihnachten" nennen werde.  Er ist der Traum von einem Weihnachten voller Wärme und Liebe und Glückseligkeit; ein Traum von einem Weihnachten wo Familien zusammenkommen um festlich mit einander zu Speisen, mit einander die Tischgemeinschaft zu Teilen, gegenseitig Geschenke auszutauschen als jeweilige Zeichen ihrer Liebe für einander; und dann auch mit solchen zu Teilen, die wenig haben.  Dieser Traum ist das Bild das wir in Filme, Lieder, und Erzählungen vorgelegt bekommen.  Für viele von uns, ist dieses Bild die Destillation der besten Erinnerungsfetzen aus den Weihnachten unserer Kindheit -- und wie bei allen Kindheitserinnerungen, sind diese ohne irgend welche Erwachsenenkummer wie Rechnungen, Ehespannungen, brodelnde Streitigkeiten mit Verwandten, Depressionen, usw.

Aus der Perspektive des Erwachsenen wird der Traum von Wiehnachten oft zum Alptraum von Weihnachten, oder gar, The Nighmare Before Christmas.  Wie strengen uns so an.  Den Tag, das Ereignis, das Erlebnis vonWeihnachten häufen wir dermaßen auf mit Erwartungen, daß wir und der Tag zur Enttäuschung verurteilt sind.  Die ganze Arbeit, die Geschenke auszusuchen und anzuschaffen wird nicht geschätzt.  Die ganze Arbeit um die Festlichkeiten für andere vorzubereiten wird nicht anerkannt.  Der ganze Rummel endet unreizend mit dem Zimmer verwült mit Verpackungspapier, des Abends Feuerlichkeinten zu einem unangenehmen Schweigen verstummt, oder zur besoffenen Albernheit, oder zum unangenehmen Gefühl vom übergestopften Magen.  Wir wollen eine festliche Zeit verbringen, doch irgendwie erreicht sie nie das Niveau des Traums von Weihnachten den wir in Erinnerung haben.  Wir versuchen Weihnachten so zu gestallten wie wir es uns vorstellen, doch finden, daß die Sache nie ganz klappt.  Auf der Kehrseite von all diesem steht auch die Situation solcher, die zum ersten Mal Weihnachten ohne einen Nahestehenden feiern müssen: nach dem Tod des Gatten oder der Gattin, des Vaters oder der Mutter, des Kindes oder des Bruders oder der Schwester.  Die große emotionelle Ladung die wir auf das Fest setzen Steigert nur das Gefühl von Trauer und Verlust.

Doch gerade hier sehen wir den Unterschied zwischen dem Traum von Weihnachten und der Offenbarung von Weihnachten.  Die Offenbarung von Weihnachten begegnen wir in den Evangelien des Matthäus und Lukas.  Was wir hier sehen ist überhaupt nicht ideal.  Eine schwangere Jugendliche muß ihr Kind in einem Stall, umgeben vom (wie wir im Schwäbischen sagen würden) Scheißdreck auf die Welt bringen -- kaum hygenisch, kaum ideal, kaum gemütlich oder schön.  Warum ist sie da?  Weil ihr Volk zu Untertanen einer fremden Militärmacht geworden ist, und der Marionettenkönig, der das Volk regiert, muß tun was die fremden Herrscher bestimmen.  Die junge Mutter und ihr Mann haben keine Stimme in diesem System.  Es gibt keine Ombudsmänner oder Abgeornete bei denen man ein Beschwerde einreichen könnte.  Sie müssen einfach machen was ihnen gesagt wird oder sie werden in einen, von Ratten bewohnten, Kerker eingesperrt, oder noch schlimmer.

Im Matthäusevangelium lesen wir auch von der fürchterlichen Zermetzelung von jungen Kindern durch diesen Marionettenkönig weil er sich um sein Thron fürchtet.  Mutter, Kind, und Mann müssen das Land flüchten.  Es war nur gut, daß sie vom guten alten Ägypten aufegnommen wurden: Asylbewrber werden nicht überall gerne aufgenommen.  Ach ja!  Und das Schwangerwerden von dieser Jugendliche: unerklärt, jedenfalls auf gewöhnlicher Weise.  Sogar ihr Mann gibt zu, daß das Kind nicht von ihm ist.  Mann muß sich merken: dies geschah nicht in unserer Zeit noch in unserer Kultur, sondern in einer Gesellschaft wo Mädchen und Frauen für solche bedenkliche Umstände gewöhnlich mit dem Leben bezahlten, und zwar durch die Brutalität des Steinigens.  Grässlich.  Schrecklich.  Das erste Weihnachten.

Die Offenbarung von Weihnachten dreht sich nicht um die perfekte festliche Feier.  Sie dreht sich sondern um das Schwer-zu-begreifende und oft Verblüffende: daß Gott mit uns ist, in Mitten des ganzen Scheißdrecks -- wörtlich im Stall, aber auch bildlich in der zwischenmenschlichen Politik, in den verrückten und ungesunden Dingen die uns die Gesellschaft aufzwingt, und in dem Herzzerbrechen wenn alles zu enttäuschen scheint.  Das ist die Offenbarung von Weihnachten.  Sie ist nichts was wir versuchen würden zu schaffen, denn wir, die Menschheit, haben das alles ohne zu versuchen schon erzeugt.  Doch wird eben dieses zu Weihnachten wenn wir darin erkennen: Gott ist mit uns, Gott wandelt mit uns, führt uns durch wenn wir ihn lassen, gibt uns kraft die Sache durchzusehen.  Das ist die Offenbarung von Weihnachten.

Also dieses Jahr, und besonders nächstes Jahr, werdet nicht vom Traum von Wiehnachten reingelegt damit daraus der Alptraum von Weihnachten würde, sondern haltet in Gedanken die Offenbarung von Weihnachten: egal wie schlimm oder schlecht es vorgeht, der Liebe Gott ist da.  Er wird uns führen, und aus unserem Scheißdreck etwas erstaunliches schaffen.  Frohe Weihnachten.