Only one worshiped...

So, I've been thinking a bunch about the fact that, in the person of Jesus, God came very close to us, and that He calls us to come close to those around us as well. (Check out "Getting Close" from a few days ago...)

One of the great tragedies of Christianity in 21st century North America is the idea of Christian subculture.  What I mean is this: Christianity has, in recent decades, sought to separate itself from culture through categorical divisions rather than through behavioral distinctives.  Simply said, the church is much more comfortable labeling a piece of art, music, literature, or other form of media with a "Christian" label than simply approaching creation in such a way that the end results are tangibly different because of the presence of Christ in us.  This has extended out to the realms of activities and societal functions as well, from "Christian" nights at the bowling alley to church league basketball and softball.  None of these things in and of themselves is inherently wrong: creating art that comes distinctly from a Christian perspective and then labeling it as such is not an inherently evil practice.  Churches playing against one another in a basketball league is not violating a command from Leviticus.  I'm not sure how a night of bowling achieves the status of being truly redemptive, but it's certainly not wrong for redeemed people to congregate together and roll a few frames.

The cumulative effect of all of these things, however, is quite damaging.  I would even venture to say unbiblical.  What has far too often happened is, due to various subcultural activities and creative expressions, paired with extremely busy church schedules and a wide variety of additional "Christian" activities, believers in Christ have found ourselves at a great distance from those to whom Jesus Himself has called us to reach.  It's not unusual in our day and age that every significant relationship the believer in Jesus has is with other believers in Jesus.  Therefore, the followers of the One who came close to us in order to offer a message of hope find themselves unable to speak that same message of hope to others because they are, relationally speaking, so incredibly far away.

Subculture insulates us from culture.  Jesus' prayer in John 17 was that His followers would be "in the world but not of the world."  Subculture puts us "not in the world OR of the world."

In seemingly every generation, then, there is a backlash against the subculture.  Instead of legalism and insulation, there is a reaction that moves some all the way into license and immersion.  Rather than being removed from the culture, this portion of the church is fully engaged in the culture.  Art, music, movies, activities--there seems to be no distinction between these followers of Jesus and the rest of the world, save their Sunday morning activities (at least now and then).  Jesus described His followers as the "light of the world," (Matthew 5) but these followers seem to be quite dim lights at best.  They are so fully immersed in culture that they are basically indistinguishable from those who have no interest in Jesus or even are diametrically opposed to Him.

If we were to categorize this headlong dive into culture according to Jesus' prayer, we might say that they are "in the world AND of the world."

So what does it look like to be "in the world, but not of the world?"  From a sociological perspective, the best descriptor is counterculture.  Webster's defines this as "a culture with values and mores that run counter to those of established society."  In other words, they are squarely immersed within the culture, but their values are dramatically different.  They are not setting up their own society with values that they can agree with; rather, they are living according to those values in the midst of a society that is often valuing exactly the opposite.

The book of Acts describes a church that was designed to be a counterculture.  In the midst of an almost overpowering Roman culture, the church quietly and consistently practiced values that ran completely counter to that culture.  They loved the poor, shared their resources, cared for the sick, and valued women, children, and slaves.  They didn't strive after power, but lived with humility.  And they consistently ascribed this incredible behavior to the example and empowerment of Jesus.  And 2000 years later, this same church is still moving forward.

So, back to the Advent story.  Jesus, through the incarnation, models coming close to people in the world around us.  Therefore, we can immediately eliminate subculture as a viable option--we mustn't remain removed.  However, both culture and counterculture are ways to be close, and in Luke's telling of the birth of Jesus, we can see both very clearly.  Luke 2:7 makes the simple observation: "She gave birth to her first child, a son.  She wrapped him snugly in strips of cloth and laid him in a a manger, because there was no room for them in the village inn."  Now, I don't wish to pile onto the poor innkeeper, who is repeatedly villainized this time of year, but the fact remains: at a point in time in history, there was a man who, though very close to the nearly born Savior and His mother and father, did not engage them.  Rather, he sent this poor woman, likely having painful contractions as she progressed through labor, to the barn out back.  Or to a cave.  A stable.  Whatever.  It definitely was not the Hilton.

The innkeeper was close, but his values didn't allow him to truly worship this One who was coming.

The next verse in Luke, however, introduces another set of folks who were also pretty close.  Luke 2:8 records: "That night some shepherds were in the fields outside the village, guarding their flocks of sheep."  You know the story--angels appeared, songs were sung, and incredible proclamations were made to these simple men.  How did they respond?  Luke 2:15-17: "The shepherds said to each other, 'Come on, let's go to Bethlehem!  Let's see this wonderful thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.'  They ran to the village and found Mary and Joseph.  And there was the baby lying in the manger.  Then the shepherds told everyone what had happened..."  They left the flocks., and with them, more than likely their jobs.  They risked reputation.  They risked being called foolish.  They declared the Truth in a town that more than likely didn't care enough to truly respond; at least there's no record of anyone doing anything other than being astonished.  Yet, the shepherds worshiped anyway.  The culture was flowing one direction.  They were flowing another.

Both the innkeeper AND the shepherds came close to the incarnate God.  But only one worshiped.

What about you and I?  Have we been willing to come close?  And has our proximity led us to worship?