Pigeons in the Temple--January 2, 2020

Pigeons in the Temple--January 2, 2020

"When the time came for their purification according to the law of Moses, they brought [Jesus] up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord (as it is written in the law of the Lord, "Every firstborn male shall be designated as holy to the Lord"), and they offered a sacrifice according to what is stated in the law of the Lord, 'a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons'." [Luke 2:22-24]

Jesus was poor. And he came from a poor family.

(He also never owned a house and lived much of his adult life dependent on the monetary support of several women who traveled in his group of disciples, too, putting himself at risk of being labeled a "public charge," while we are on the subject.)

Part of how you know that Jesus was poor, even from childhood, is the way Luke recites the offering his parents provided when he was presented in the temple as a baby. Luke notes that "the law of Moses" directed them to sacrifice "a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons," and that is true. But the whole picture is this: the Torah commanded people to offer a lamb on the occasion of the birth of a firstborn... except for those who could not afford one. If you couldn't afford a lamb, the law said to offer the pigeons (and, interestingly enough, there was even another option for those who couldn't afford the birds--a scoop of flour or grain). So, let's put two and two together here: the poor were the ones who were allowed to offer the turtledoves... and Jesus' parents gave the turtledoves. The pigeons in the Temple story are Luke's way of subtly reminding us that Jesus--the Son of God incarnate and the Savior of the world whose birth is Good News for all people--came from a family that was on the Israelite version of public assistance.

Jesus would have gotten free lunch at school if he had gone to the same public school where my kids go. Breakfast, probably, too. They might have even sent him home with a backpack full of food for the weekends, for that matter. Jesus' family was too poor to afford the "full pay" rate for the sacrifice celebrating the birth of their firstborn son, not to mention the very Messiah of God. And Luke doesn't blush about telling us, nor does Mary seem to be embarrassed about her circumstances, either. The Creator of the universe was born to a family that struggled to make ends meet.

It is worth letting that sink in for a minute, especially these days, because there are a lot of loud voices--and shamefully, I have heard a number of them from the Respectable Religious Crowd who think they speak for this same Christ--who make claims like, "a poor person never gave anybody charity, not of any real volume." You know the rest of that train of thought--it is so tired and cliché we could all recite it by rote: the real difference-makers are the ones who make us richer, and so you can judge a society, a culture, a nation by how rich it makes people.. and the people who don't make enough must be lazy, or unambitious, or deficient in talent. And of course, all of this gets said with a cross pin on the lapel and the insistence that God is endorsing all of it.

Well, not to put too fine a point on it, but it would seem that Luke here insists that this whole train of thought is a load of dingoes' kidneys. Not only was God's Messiah born to a poor family--and stayed poor all his life--but he was on a form of public assistance that had been built into the regulations and laws of Israel meant to help out mothers and fathers who didn't make enough to pay all their obligations. And not only was this the face of the Messiah at birth, but it is precisely in this poverty that this Jesus offers the greatest act of charity in all of history, a gift of infinite worth and immeasurable and real "volume." In fact, that is the very claim the New Testament would later make about God's coming to us in Christ: "You know the generous act of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich" (2 Cor. 8:9). At the heart of the Christian faith is the claim that God didn't just take a pleasure cruise to rub elbows with the upper crust, but was born among the marginalized. And to be clear, the Scriptures see this as essential to the way Jesus saves. A god who just takes a summer holiday at some exclusive tropical resort isn't there to help anybody--that's just a cosmic tourist of a deity. But a God who identifies with the ones that the world has called "nobodies"... now that is powerful. That is at the heart of what real charity--which was always meant to be another word for love--is all about. That's what grace looks like.

We have a way of looking down on folks with less, and looking for ways to villainize them--we want to make ourselves feel superior by looking down on people whose paychecks are smaller, or who don't have as good insurance as you might have, or who have qualified for public assistance. We religious folk--and I say this to our shame--have this myth we tell that God is disappointed with "those people" because they don't earn as much, or because they admit that they need the help of others, or because we imagine they must be lazy or unmotivated. We are quick to assume that "they must use drugs," or "they must be wasting their income on extravagances they can't really afford," or "they must sit around all day doing nothing", because deep down, we need someone we can be better than in order to make ourselves feel acceptable. That is the terrible (and idiotic, while we are at it) logic of thinking that the only way to make yourself feel better is to push someone else down; it is always faulty logic, but it is still terribly popular and tempting in this day and age.

But before any of us Respectable Religious people decides to write off "those poor people" as all lazy or immoral or parasitic, we should be clear about who it is we are vilifying: his name is Jesus, and his mom and dad got help to cover the costs even for the sacrificial celebration meal when he was born. The pigeons in the temple are a sign that the Christ of God was born on public assistance, and it is precisely because of that that the infinite riches of grace are yours.

Lord Jesus, thank you for coming among us as one of us. Keep us from trying to push ourselves up by looking down at others. And give us the vision to see your blessing on the poor as the sign of your Reign taking shape among us.