Our Beginnings Are Middles

Our Beginnings Are Middles--January 1, 2o19

"It had been revealed to [Simeon] by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord's Messiah. Guided by the Holy Spirit, Simeon came into the temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him what was customary under the law, Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying, 
     'Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace,
         according to your word;
     for my eyes have seen your salvation,
         which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, 
     a light for revelation to the Gentiles,
         and for glory to your people Israel'." [Luke 2:26-32]

It is weird to say it this way, but in life, most of our beginnings are really middles.

That's not a bad thing. It's really just a matter of honesty.  Most of the times we think we are at the start of something brand new, ready to turn a new leaf, begin a new chapter, or start a new adventure, we are really in the middle of something already, something which may have been simmering inside of us for some time until at last it bubbles up to the surface for us to notice.

It's the sprout, for example, that we think is just starting as the first few leaf buds emerge on a tiny stalk--before we can see it, it's been germinating in the darkness of the earth, and roots began to emerge.  The "new beginning" we see is really in the middle of the life cycle that has already begun before we were aware of it--and for that matter, the seed itself was the "end" product of some previous tree or flower somewhere else.

It's the journal you half-started a few years ago, forgot about, and then came back later, wondering if it was ok to start up in the same book, or if you should just start over clean with a brand new set of clean white pages... and maybe pretend there was never any half-finished book at all.

It's the way so many of our New Year's resolutions, if they are going to have any staying power at all, really have been percolating and poking at us for some time in our heads and hearts already.  If some half-baked idea pops into your head at midnight on December 31 for a "new thing to try" in the new year, chances are it will wither on the vine.  The changes that really stick are the ones that have been slowly beginning to taken root in your mind and habits already, even if you choose to use January 1 as your mental milestone for the sake of convenience.

And it's the same with the Christ of God as well.  Here is this infant child, his life seemingly just starting, and as Simeon takes a look at the child, he sees not merely a beginning, but the very climax of the story of God and the world.  We are knee deep already in the middle of the story, according to Simeon.  God had long ago promised, both to Simeon and to generations of people before him, that there would come restoration and redemption for God's people.  And so as this old man lays his eyes on the child Jesus, he sees that he--and we--are in the middle of what God has been up to, laying the groundwork, sending out roots, preparing and growing like a seed in the warm darkness of the earth.  The birth is maybe the moment that God's new action in the world sprouts leaf buds above the soil line, perhaps, but this is really the middle of the story.  We are in the middle of the action, in media res, as my English teacher used to say in high school.  The moment Simeon gets to see the child is the culmination of years and years of waiting, the consummation of hope and expectation, and the climax of human salvation--it's not the start, but a middle.

And that's nothing to be ashamed of, or to be embarrassed about.  Simeon, for one, takes it as a sign of God's faithfulness that there is first a promise, and then the foundation laid to bring the fulfillment, and then when all is ready, the keeping of the promise is visible.  And even though it takes centuries by human counting, it is all important time to let the seeds germinate.  God doesn't just out of the blue say, "Hey, I've got a great new idea--I'll love and save the world!" And God isn't just making this up as God goes along like Indiana Jones.  The living God has been moving in human history, sometimes slowly, sometimes barely perceptibly, but always.  Like Dr. King was so fond of reminding us, "The moral arc of the universe is long, but it bends toward justice."  Even the arrival of Christ on the scene isn't quite the start of something, but the middle--the turning point, if you like--that continues a trajectory God has been on far before any of us were paying attention.

Now, that's good news for us on a couple of fronts.  For one, it is a reminder that God doesn't just capriciously or chaotically show up on the scene out of nowhere, in a move that could be backtracked tomorrow.  Our culture is full of those sorts of impulsive voices who blurt things out on a whim without really thinking of the consequences, and then have to either walk back their outbursts, or double down on a foolish idea, or fade away quietly hoping we'll all forget.  But that isn't how the coming of Christ is.  God doesn't just randomly make an unscheduled appearance in Jerusalem to stop and say "hi" and then vanish when it becomes clear that there will be costs for loving and saving humanity.  God doesn't just plop down into human history, only to realize there will be a cross in store, and then bail out when that becomes too much to bear.  No, the coming of the Christ child is a middle, not a rash beginning.  It is a point along the way of what Daniel Erlander calls "God's unfolding promise to mend the entire universe," and that project of God's has been unfolding since before the beginning of our awareness.  And that means we don't have to worry that God will decide it's too hard, or too costly, or too tedious, or too unpopular to come into our history in Jesus.  We don't have to worry about God blurting out "I know--I'll send a Messiah!" and then hastily throwing together a plan around the sound byte to make it happen, like we so often see happening on the news and in the world around us.  God, in other words, is committed--and has been committed from eternity--to loving, reclaiming, and restoring all creation.  This isn't a fad or a fluke or a fit.

And there is a second bit of good news in all of this: it is okay that we are living in the middle of life, too.  I know how hard we may wish to have a new beginning, to start the year fresh, to wipe the slate clean, and to turn a corner.  But I also know that whatever baggage we have been carrying up to this moment is a part of our life story.  And even if you and I drop all of our excess unnecessary garbage and dead weight this very instant, it will still have been a part of the story that brought you to where you are in this moment.  All that came before is not wasted time before your "real" new beginning--it is part of the story that leads up to this moment in the middle, which is where your story turns today.  Like Ben Folds sings in "The Luckiest:"

 "I don't get many things right the first time/In fact, I am told that a lot/Now it seems all the wrong turns, the stumbles, and falls have brought me here...."

The things that have come before need not be seen as a shame or a waste or a mistake, but rather the time the seed germinates in the warm darkness of the earth, putting out roots and coming to life.  That means we don't have to throw out the half-written journals, or pretend the earlier chapters of our stories were all for nothing, or that God can only use people who make a clean break of all their past.  We cannot.  We are living in the middle of a story that began long before we were aware of it.

Maybe as the world makes a big deal about starting a new calendar year, we can put all of that into some perspective.  If this is the start of something brand new and great for you, great.  I am happy for you, and wish you success in the newness.  But I suspect that more likely each of us is really making a new beginning right smack dab in the middle of things--knowing that God has been at work in both the big sweep of history, and in the individual histories of your and my life, for a long time already.  There are roots that have already been digging deep into the soil to give strength for when the leaves open up.  There is already life being nurtured in the darkness of the soil.  We are beginning again... in the middle.

Lord God, let us have the humility to see that you have been at work bringing us to this moment long before we were aware of it, and give us the confidence to trust that you will keep working through all our lives long.  Take our hand.