Psalm 126 

Because this story is so strange, so jam-packed with vivid and jarring imagery,

I want to review the unfolding plot…

[review of the story]

There’s so much to unpack here.

Clearly there are layers of meaning

and meanings of symbolism

that simply aren’t available to us—

at least not readily.

In my study this past week,

I’ve become more familiar with some of the symbols,

the numbers,

the mythical and archetypal motifs present in the story.

But honestly, after a bit, it all makes my head begin to swim.

In the imagery of the woman clothed with the sun,

there are echoes of some prominent pagan goddesses, such as Isis and Artemis.

The story line itself connects our Revelation story with the Greek myth of Apollo’s birth,

and the Egyptian myth of Isis giving birth to Horus,

and perhaps others.

There’s complex numerology present.

The poetic and lovely

“a time, times, and half a time”

essentially means 1260 days, which appeared earlier in the vision.

So we have this same strange number reiterated twice in the same story.

It turns out that 1260 days,

which is 42 months,

which is 3 ½ years,

is exactly half of 7 years,

7 being the number of completion, wholeness, perfection.

And that 1260 days –

that is, half of 7 years –

is a common length of a period of eschatological distress –

this 3 ½ years reappears throughout apocalyptic literature.

12 is another holy number, rich with meaning,

so the 12 stars crowning the woman’s head can be interpreted in a number of ways.

Anyone perk up at the phrase “to rule with a rod of iron”?

Did you recognize it from Psalm 2?

Or perhaps even more likely you recognized it from the text of Handel’s Messiah,

which, of course, comes directly from Psalm 2…

“Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron,

thou shalt dash them in pieces like a potter's vessel."[1]

Psalm 2 is one of the messianic Psalms –

A Psalm hailing the reign of the Lord’s Anointed One, the Messiah –

and so this phrase, “to rule with a rod of iron”

links the baby born in this Revelation vision with Hebrew visions of a Messiah.

I haven’t even begun to scratch the surface of what’s going on here

metaphorically, symbolically, mythically, archetypally, numerically.

After tromping through commentaries on this stuff, my head began to swim.

There are those who see the pagan imagery in the dragon,

and proceed to interpret a harsh anti-pagan message in the story,

but completely fail to notice the even more prominent pagan imagery in the woman,

who they interpret as the birther of the Messiah.

So some see the woman as the Church – the body of Christ –

clothed with the sun – literally clothed with the Messiah.

Some see the woman as Israel, who gives birth both to the Messiah and to the church.

Some see her as Jerusalem.

Some see the woman as Mary, who more literally gives birth to the Messiah,

that is, to Jesus –

the one, according to prophecy, to sit on the throne of God and rule with a rod of iron.

And, in fact, the Catholic Church reads this passage

on the feast of the Assumption of Mary.

The dragon is Satan or King Herod or the Roman Empire.

But even a well-stocked toolbox of interpretation-aids

does NOT eradicate the mystery, complexity, and strangeness evident here.

This imagery is so far outside our own cultural context, so inaccessible symbolically,

that it is just weird.

And, some of you may not only be confused by the vision itself,

but you may be more fundamentally wondering at its inclusion during the Advent season.

Sure, there’s Messiah and possibly Mary imagery going on,

but it’s still a strange choice for Advent, yes?

This is why I think this Revelation vision belongs in Advent…

It’s not an original idea of mine or an original idea of the Advent Planning Team.

But an inspiration of Jan Richardson, yes, her again…

a United Methodist clergywoman, writer and artist,

who, in several of her books,

includes this vision of Revelation’s celestial woman in her Advent section.

Why?

Because the Revelation vision of this women giving birth to a child,

threatened by a dragon who promises to devour the life being birthed,

reveals deep symbolic truths about the nature of birthing,

about the dangers and the risks surrounding the birth process –

both literal birthing,

and, more important for our Advent reflections, metaphorical birthing.

Given our Advent theme this year –

“Birthing the Holy” –

I think this vision offers us a great deal of potential insight

as we explore together what it means to give birth to the holy in our lives,

and in our worlds.

The Revelation vision assures me that giving birth to the holy is not danger-free.

Dragons may be lurking in shadows to devour that which is life.

While living in Colorado, I had a friend who worked for an organization that planned cross-cultural education opportunities and adventure trips for young people.

The name of the organization was (still is) “Where There Be Dragons.”

It gets its memorable name from ancient maps

on which dragons were often drawn in the space beyond the known world

to, of course, symbolize that which is unknown, unfamiliar, beyond.

To go into that uncharted territory was to go “where there be dragons.”

In an era of GPS and Google Earth

(with which we once literally zoomed in on Jon’s childhood home in Perth, Austrailia), we can’t quite imagine uncharted, unknown territory where there be dragons.

We think we’ve got the world pretty well charted,

pretty well monitored,

and on the one hand, we do.

On the other hand, some landscapes remain quite uncharted.

I think of spiritual landscapes within,

and social landscapes without,

as two examples of largely uncharted landscapes.

And I admit that when I gaze toward the edge of what is known in these lands,

I do wonder about dragons…

First, our social landscape:

A few weeks back, a story in the news caught the attention of the blogosphere.

Republican presidential candidate—though probably not for much longer—

Rick Santorum spoke at Dordt College.

Dordt College is affiliated with the Christian Reformed Church,

located in the small town of Sioux Center, Iowa,

and according to a quorum of bloggers is a “conservative” Christian institution.

I don’t have firsthand experience with Dordt College, but so far as I can tell by perusing their website, that appears to be a fair enough—if a bit ambiguous—assessment.

While there, Santorum was challenged by a Dordt student during a Q&A session.

It started with a first year student who said he’d been studying the Bible recently,

and that study prompted him to think about healthcare.

Student Ryan Walters began, “God is very angry toward societies that don't care for the poor. If not for our social programs, how can we as a society care for our poor?

…With all due respect Sen. Santorum, I don't think God appreciates the fact that we have 50-100 thousand uninsured Americans dying due to a lack of healthcare every year.”

“Dying?” Santorum replied, seeming—according to those reporting on the exchange—genuinely taken aback.

“I believe that is a statistic,” Walters said.

“So 50 to 100 thousand Americans are dying due to lack of healthcare?” asked Santorum.

“And preventable diseases, yes sir.”

Santorum again: “Healthcare and preventable diseases? Where did you get that number?”

The student said he believed it was from “statistical evidence,”

but he couldn’t name a study or source for his claim.

Santorum said that people “don't get statistical evidence from thin air”

and followed that up with this: “I reject that number completely,

that people die in America because of lack of health insurance.”

Well, it turns out that statistic wasn't pulled out of thin air,

even if Walters couldn’t recall the source,

and even though his numbers were a bit inflated.

Research released in September 2009 in the American Journal of Public Health

estimates that 45,000 deaths per year in the United States are associated with the lack of health insurance. If a person is uninsured, “it means you're at mortal risk,” said one of the authors, Dr. David Himmelstein, an associate professor of medicine at Harvard Medical School. The researchers examined government health surveys from more than 9,000 people aged 17 to 64, taken from 1986-1994, and then followed up through 2000. They determined that the uninsured have a 40 percent higher risk of death than those with private health insurance as a result of being unable to obtain necessary medical care. The researchers then extrapolated the results to census data from 2005 and calculated there were 44,789 deaths associated with lack of health insurance.[2]

But numbers and statistics often shield us from humans,

so let’s put just a few faces to those 45,000.

When CNN reported on this Harvard study two years ago,

they led with these stories:

A freelance cameraman's appendix ruptured and by the time he was admitted to surgery, it was too late. A self-employed mother of two is found dead in bed from undiagnosed heart disease. A 26-year-old aspiring fashion designer collapsed in her bathroom after feeling unusually fatigued for days. What all three of these people have in common is that they experienced symptoms, but didn't seek care because they were uninsured and they worried about the hospital expense, according to their families. All three died.[3]

Santorum went on to say, “People die in America because people die in America. And people make poor decisions with respect to their health and their healthcare. And they don’t go to the emergency room or they don’t go to the doctor when they need to…And it’s not the fault of the government for not providing some sort of universal benefit.”[4]

I am troubled by a social landscape in which we don’t look out for one another,

in which we don’t readily agree on taking collective responsibility

for providing basic needs to all.

I am troubled by a social landscape in which a politician declares that health care should be a private, individual concern,

essentially laying blame for these 45,000 American deaths associated with lack of healthcare at the feet of those individuals who simply don’t have access to healthcare.

They died and it’s their own darn fault.

Because they made an individual choice to not have health insurance.

No one to blame but themselves.

Really?!

Remember, this is a politician who at the same time thinks things like

denying access to birth control

or denying access to marriage

is a collective responsibility

in which individuals can’t be trusted to choose.

But providing health care isn’t a collective responsibility?!

And perhaps most troubling about the whole exchange?

Rick Santorum’s first response to student Ryan Walters’ question:

“You go to Dordt College and ask me that question?”[5]

As though it’s strange for a Christian to have concern for the poor.

As though it’s strange for a Christian to long for a greater sense of collective responsibility in caring for those at the margins of a society, a nation.

We could certainly use a little more Holy birthed into this social landscape of ours.

God is certainly needing to be born in our midst.

And we have some uncharted territory in this social landscape,

some fuzzy and shadowy areas beyond what we can see and know and map.

And yes,

for hundreds of thousands of kids, adults and old folks in our national community,

there are dragons lurking beyond the edge of what is known.

Second, internal spiritual landscapes:

Here the chartered territory actually seems quite small

compared to what lies beyond.

When I have walked the perimeter of my own spiritual landscape,

peering into the darkness beyond,

unable to find my way back to the center,

I am struck by how little of my spiritual landscape is charted, known, documentable,

and yes, I wonder about the dragons beyond.

Some of that wandering about the edges of the unknown in our spiritual landscapes

is good and healthy.

Sometimes the silence of God, the experience of God’s absence,

peering into the shadow of unknowing…

sometimes that can be instructive or revealing

or prepare the way for greater and deeper healing of some kind.

Sometimes experiencing something like what St. John of the Cross would call a

“dark night of the soul,”

strips us of that which is not serving us well spiritually anymore,

or lays bare our spiritual hunger or core desire or our true calling

so that we can get reoriented; return to our center.

Alternatively,

sometimes hanging out on the spiritual fringe of our being can be unhealthy.

At times I find I can get too cozy with the shadowy periphery of my spiritual landscape,

hanging out at desert’s edge,

peering into the unknown of the shrouded wilderness beyond.

I can grow so accustomed to that experience of shadow and silence and absence,

that it becomes self-absorbing and paralyzing.

I can get so wrapped up in the unknown of my own internal spiritual landscape

that I forget to keep turning my gaze outward again…

and remember that our salvation is earthly and dusty,

and tied up with every other breath-of-life creature with whom we in habit this earth.

I speak for myself,

but if I were the wagering type, I’d wager I speak for most of you as well…

I could certainly use a little more Holy birthed into my own spiritual landscape.

God is certainly needing to be born within me.

And I have a whole mess of uncharted territory in my spiritual landscape,

some fuzzy and shadowy areas beyond what I can see and know and map.

And yes,

for millions of us—billions of us—wandering our own spiritual landscapes,

there might just be dragons lurking beyond the edge of what is known.

So, this morning I ask:

What dragon is staring you down?

breathing down your neck?

lurking in the shadows beyond what you can see, whether spiritually or socially?

Can you give life anyhow?

Can you accept that there may be dragons

and yet boldly bring forth life and love and holiness anyway?

Giving birth to the Holy is a dangerous business.

Our archetypal tale of the woman and the boy child and the dragon reveals that truth.

And that epic tale confirms our own experience of that truth.

But the Revelation vision also assures us that God prepares a place of safety and care

for those who give birth to the Holy.

For a time and times and half a time.

And the Revelation vision assures us that the new life born in our midst

is also preserved –

that life enters into the presence of God and continues to live, to flourish.

God knows our dragons,

God sees our dragons,

and God gives us the courage to continue to embrace the power of life,

to give birth to that which gives us life,

and that which gives life to the world around us,

even in the face of dragons who would devour.

May we courageously give birth to the Holy here and now.

Let us continue to be a community that gives birth to hope,

to life,

to God.

And let us continue to be a community that witnesses to the birthing of hope,

life,

and God in our midst.

There may be dragons, but there is also God,

and wings for flying

and wellsprings for nourishment,

and God’s gracious care for a time and times and half a time.

Revelation 12:1-9, 13-17

A great portent appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars. She was pregnant and was crying out in birth pangs, in the agony of giving birth. Then another portent appeared in heaven: a great red dragon, with seven heads and ten horns, and seven diadems on his heads. His tail swept down a third of the stars of heaven and threw them to the earth. Then the dragon stood before the woman who was about to bear a child, so that he might devour her child as soon as it was born. And she gave birth to a son, a male child, who is to rule all the nations with a rod of iron. But her child was snatched away and taken to God and to his throne; and the woman fled into the wilderness, where she has a place prepared by God, so that there she can be nourished for one thousand two hundred and sixty days.

 And war broke out in heaven; Michael and his angels fought against the dragon. The dragon and his angels fought back, but they were defeated, and there was no longer any place for them in heaven. The great dragon was thrown down, that ancient serpent, who is called the Devil and Satan, the deceiver of the whole world—he was thrown down to the earth, and his angels were thrown down with him.

 So when the dragon saw that he had been thrown down to the earth, he pursued the woman who had given birth to the male child. But the woman was given the two wings of the great eagle, so that she could fly from the serpent into the wilderness, to her place where she is nourished for a time, and times, and half a time. Then from his mouth the serpent poured water like a river after the woman, to sweep her away with the flood. But the earth came to the help of the woman; it opened its mouth and swallowed the river that the dragon had poured from his mouth. Then the dragon was angry with the woman, and went off to make war on the rest of her children, those who keep the commandments of God and hold the testimony of Jesus.