The Gift of Safety Pins: A Sermon by the Reverend Andrea Abbott for December 11, 2016,
Preacher: Reverend Andrea Abbott
The gift of safety pins
Just in case you hadn’t noticed, in two weeks, oh, help, we will be celebrating Christmas. It seems someone has sped up the time in between Christmases because I could swear we just did this, but I guess I’m wrong. I also know that there are parts of the world in which Christmas is not noticed, parts of the world that are not madly decorating, baking, attending or giving parties, parts of the world that are not frantically buying things. But that’s not this part of the world. Long ago in this part of the world Christmas took on a life of its own and untethered itself from the original story that inspired this holiday. Or, to be more accurate, the story itself was first grafted onto an existing holiday and then took on a life of its own.
The existing holiday that was adapted, so to speak, for Christmas use, was a pagan holiday that celebrated the return of the sun at the time of the shortest day of the year. This is, very broadly speaking, the time that early church fathers assigned as the birthday of Jesus. And some of the festivities came with the day, lights to drive away the darkness, bells and lots of noise to drive off the night. And over the years different traditions adhered to what was, originally, two stories of Jesus’ birth. The stories, originally, had been part of the transition from Judaism to what became a new religion, Christianity. And with these stories came the tradition of gift giving. Gift giving is particularly noted in Matthew, the story of the Magi visiting the new baby with very unsuitable baby gifts. But the story in Luke, the story of the adoration of the shepherds, also morphed to involve the giving of gifts. And those stories were fused with the story of St. Nicholas, whose feast day, December 6th, just passed us, St. Nicholas, who gave dowries to poor girls and somehow became toy giver to the world. Giving, giving, lots of giving, lots of different kinds of giving. Myths and legends change and evolve but they don’t stick unless they strike a chord somewhere in our collective hearts. So our collective hearts fastened on the idea of gifts, gifts of all sorts and from that sprung a million stories about all kinds of gift giving. Now, I’m not saying that commercial interests weren’t involved here. And it’s also true that an economy based largely on consumerism is going to find the giving of gifts a more natural way to show caring. So, for all these reasons, the impulse to give to others, which is a powerful impulse, has been channeled into our Christmas traditions and
giving has become a big part of this holiday. A million myths and stories and legends, have been fused with the original story and has departed wildly from it. But gift giving is a part of many of the new traditions and stories and the stories almost always end in some form of reconciliation through giving gifts.
Many of us spend a lot of time and effort, not to mention cold, hard cash or cold, hard plastic, in choosing gifts, thinking about gifts, wrapping gifts, distributing gifts or in rejecting the idea of gift giving in homes already bulging with things. In some instances, and I know of at least one, people have begun to say, “I don’t need anything. Give what you would have spent on me to charity.” And some people do both. Inspired by the spirit of generosity, they both give something to each other and give a gift to people they have never met and never will.
This is the time of year when we think about people that might otherwise be invisible to us. This is the time of year when we are very conscious of the gap between us and many others. This is the time of year that deprivation seems more wrong, more intense. While so much of our world is celebrating, how can there be faces pressed against the windows, longing to share in some form of festivity, longing to belong in this time of merriment.
But what is it that people need, what is it that everyone wants for Christmas? Well, there’s food and shelter, clothing to keep out the cold, attention to medical needs. Those are the basics. Those are what everyone needs. But beyond that? Are there other gifts less tangible, other gifts that do not cost anything except some very precious commodities—time and compassion? Those are sometimes the hardest gifts to give. And one need that we often take for granted is the gift of safety, the need to know that we do not face danger simply for being who we are. This is a need that can be very hard to fill.
In recognition of this need, the children have passed out safety pins. Safety pins along with a pledge. The pledge involves a promise to be someone’s safety pin, to be someone who will keep someone safe and together if that is what is needed. I hope none of us will need to honor that pledge, but at times everyone needs a safety pin. And sometimes only a stranger is there to offer one.
From the literal safety pin offered in a restroom when some item of clothing has gone adrift to the more metaphorical safety pin that keeps us together when we are facing danger and threat, we have all been dependent on someone we didn’t know and may never see again to get through a rough time.
The desire to give, the feeling of pleasure when we do give, is as much a part of our natures as the desire to take, to be given to. The balance may swing within us, based on our circumstances, but the instinct to give something seems hard wired. Just as the desire to protect is as hard wired as the desire to harm. We have within us these contradictory, often warring impulses and they are encouraged or discouraged in countless ways.
Let’s return to the original stories, the stories that the early Christian church fathers wrote. The original stories were not written with Macy’s or Best Buy in mind. Both of the nativity stories were written to bolster the claim that Jesus was the Messiah and the stories, in time honored fashion, were fashioned to fulfill the prophecies in Hebrew Scripture. Therefore, Jesus needed to be born in Bethlehem, hence Luke’s fictional census to get him there. And, in other scripture, the adoration of wise men is important, and so Matthew wrote in the Magi. Later, efforts were made to fuse and reconcile the two stories and the way we commonly think of the Christmas story, think of nativity scenes, is with both wise men and shepherds crowding in the manger.
We don’t think about the Christmas story as necessary to fulfill scripture, to honor prophecy. The nativity story, muddled and fused, has taken on a different role in our culture. Or, perhaps, I should say different roles. And the roles fit with our version of Christmas, our way of thinking about babies and kings and gifts. As we have adapted the story, as we have interpreted it in carols and stories and movie specials, this is a story that is filled with safety pins.
In the version by Luke, Joseph and Mary arrive at an overcrowded Bethlehem just as she is about to give birth. The first person to offer them a safety pin is the owner of the inn who, rather than send them out into the street, lets them stay in his barn. This was not an instance of greed or hard heartedness. It was not unusual for people to take shelter in barns or out buildings when nothing else was available. The innkeeper was offering what hospitality he had to this poor couple, and this couple were strangers to him, not natives of Bethlehem but of Galilee, a despised region of which it was said, “What good can come out of Galilee?” Perhaps a bit the way people think of some parts of the deep South or, I’ve heard it said, the North Country. Or the Middle East, the place where the Christmas story began. Filled with uncouth and rebellious people, that was Galilee’s reputation. But the innkeeper does his best and offers them what hospitality he can. He gives them a safety pin.
Then, of course, there are the stories that have grown up around the shepherds. In the original story, they are simply “sore amazed” and there is no mention of gifts, but in the retellings, they, the poorest of the poor, bring gifts to the baby. In these retellings, the gifts of the poor are more valued because they are so often given with great sacrifice and many a Christmas story and song uses this plot device, the importance of the gifts of the poor shepherds to a poor child. And gifts are also assigned to even animals, as our last hymn will illustrate, so that everyone is included in giving gifts to help the new, struggling family. In these retellings, the shepherds give the safety pins of warmth and food.
But, in the original story, the first safety pin the shepherds bring is the gift of belief, of believing in the hope that the child represents. Whether we interpret this story in this way or not, the gift of belief, of believing in someone, not discounting them or their story, remains a rare and precious gift. At different times, haven’t we all wanted people to believe in us and hasn’t people’s belief in us kept us together? And when that happens, isn’t that the best of safety pins?
When the wise men, later called kings, arrive in Matthew’s account, there are more gifts. We all know about the gold, the frankincense and myrrh, but the other the wise men, like the shepherds, bring the gift of belief. They have found the baby through their wisdom rather than angels, and they bring those famous gifts fit for a king, gold, frankincense and myrrh, but they also bring something else. They bring the gift of survival. Though they have told Herod that they will return and tell him where the child is, they have a dream that they should not do this and instead return to their homes by a different way, protecting the child from Herod. These wise men did not believe in Herod’s word, though he was a king and they would usually have been allied with rulers. They didn’t believe the people in charge of things. They disobeyed the authorities. Instead they took seriously their intuition that the child was in danger. Their safety pin was—safety.
However we see the Christmas story, whether as an archaic story, or as a story to be understood symbolically, or literally, the importance of giving is the message that has come down to us. Because giving is part of who we are. Giving is a necessary part of being human. Giving gives back to the giver. If we doubt this, we should take note of how people feel when they can, for whatever reason, no longer be the givers. Now, take a look at the safety pins the children gave you and look at the promise which was included with them. Gifts come in many different way, many different sizes and shapes, and many of the best of them cannot be wrapped in shiny paper with a bow. The safety pin movement names the gifts that are essential to life. First and foremost, the gift of safety itself, freedom from fear that life itself will be snatched away. But it says more than that. At the heart of the gift of safety pins is belief. Not belief in a magical person who will make everything all right for us, but belief in each other, belief, especially, in people who cannot count on being believed, being believed as automatically as some of us are used to and expect. Our belief in each other is more difficult, often, than our belief in a miraculous being. And yet this is the true miracle, that we can reach out from the limits of our own lives, from what is familiar and what we consider the right way or the normal way, and offer to each other the sense of belonging and rightness that we all crave. The miracle we seek is to find, born within ourselves, that miracle maker. That is the true miracle of this season and of every season. May you and yours be blessed with the blessing of giving.