Deuteronomy 10:17-19
Las Posadas is based on the Lukan nativity, because Luke has the Holy Family travel from Nazareth to Bethlehem to answer Caesar’s census. No, there no record of a census around the conjectured year of Christ’s birth, but history as it appears in news articles isn’t the point. Luke and Matthew, interestingly, have more in common in their nativities than the Virgin Mary. Both stories include the heavy hand of government on the small family. Caesar forces Mary to travel while she’s pregnant (how long into her pregnancy isn’t really said. “The time came for her to give birth,” Luke says; but we turned that into the night of their arrival in Bethlehem. We like to cut to the chase.). Matthew puts the journey two years after the birth, as the Holy Family this time has to glee Herod’s death sentence. Either way, rulers move the Family around blindly, without realizing they are playing a part in what the gospel writers consider God’s narrative. Jesus needs to be born in Bethlehem; but he’s a Nazarene. Caesar and Herod create the circumstances to make that narrative happen. It is an overlooked part of the nativity, that God as helpless child is exposed to the world's dangers from birth, and forced to travel by the whims of rulers whose only concern is for their own power. Las Posadas reminds of us of that, if we pay attention; and it reminds us of the power and importance of hospitality, an idea so central to the Biblical narrative yet so often and so easily overlooked.
The Lukan narrative is read as a story of inhospitality, but that's not necessarily true. There is a "renegade" reading of the Lukan nativity story, one that comes from a scholar who lived much of his life in the Middle East. He insists that the standard reading of the story completely misunderstands the culture of the area. Such inhospitality would be unthinkable; and besides, if Mary and Joseph did come to Bethlehem, family there would put them up (if they were as poor as most of the people, the thought of an inn would never occur to them, if, indeed, such commercial establishments existed at the time. More than likely, they didn't. The economy was very sharply divided between the "haves" (less than 5% or so), and the "have nots." There probably weren't enough people between very rich and poor to keep "inns" in business.
So where do we get the idea? This scholar said the word translated as "inn" referred to the guest room, not a free-standing building. He also said the "manger" was the feeding trough, a feature of most homes of the time (indeed, "manger" comes from the Latin, and still refers to the dining room, or "salle a manger," in French. Besides, the word Luke uses for where the Birth takes place is katalamati, could mean "inn, but "is perhaps best understood here as lodging...or guest room...." Arnot and Gingrich, Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament, 2nd edition, 1958, p. 414.).
Imagine that you are poor, but own a few animals. What you don't own is land, because land is power, and wealth. But you own animals. Where do you put them at night, if they are so valuable? In the one building you control, of course. Homes had a raised area, a platform just high enough for a feeding trough. The family slept on the platform, which also, because of the height, kept the animals out. The children of such poor families were regularly placed in the trough as a makeshift crib. So what Luke is telling us is not a story of inhospitality, but of peasant hospitality; of a ruler living as the poor lived, and living that way fully and completely and intentionally. The Appalachian carol "Jesus, Jesus, Rest Your Head" gets this as thoroughly as any Christmas song.
"But at the coming of the king of heaven, all's set at six and seven." Well, it is for us, because we are the rulers, not the peasants. The hospitality that is common among the poor, and practiced widely in the Middle East (the Bible is full of exemplary stories of hospitality, as valued by that culture), is not common among us. There are inns for travelers, other places for them to stay; and if they can't afford it, what business is that of mine? Who are they to me? Am I my brother's keeper? And who is my brother?
And then we attribute that attitude, of which we are justly ashamed (and which we vigorously disavow), to "them."
So Las Posadas is a lovely practice. But it can also remind us of our shortcomings. Perhaps it is no accident that it is not as common a practice in this country, as in Mexico. There are physical problems, of course (I can imagine doing Las Posadas here in Houston; it would take us all night to reach some of the houses of church members, even by car). But is there a cultural one, as well? Would we welcome the stranger so easily? And is there anyone more stranger to us, than the Christ? The One who told us that when we tended to the poor, the sick, the prisoner, we tended to him?
The Guest
by Anonymous
Yet if His Majesty, our sovereign lord,
Should of his own accord
Friendly himself invite,
And say 'I'll be your guest to-morrow night,'
How should we stir ourselves, call and command
All hands to work! 'Let no man idle stand!
Set me fine Spanish tables in the hall;
See they be fitted all;
Let there be room to eat
And order taken that there want no meat.
See every sconce and candlestick made bright,
That without tapers they may give a light.
'Look to the presence: are the carpets spread,
The dazie o'er the head,
The cushions in the chairs,
And all the candles lighted on the stairs?
Perfume the chambers, and in any case
Let each man give attendance in his place!'
Thus, if a king were coming, would we do;
And 'twere good reason too;
For 'tis a duteous thing
To show all honour to an earthly king,
And after all our travail and our cost,
So he be pleased, to think no labour lost.
But at the coming of the King of Heaven
All's set at six and seven;
We wallow in our sin,
Christ cannot find a chamber in the inn.
We entertain Him always like a stranger,
And, as at first, still lodge Him in the manger.
Las Posadas is a time of celebration in Mexico and the Southwest United States. It is an event of much significance with joy, protection and festivity. Las Posadas is always observed with much song and celebration. It is a novena of preparation for the feast of the Nativity. It begins on the 16th of December and ends on the 24th of December with the" Mass of the Rooster," the celebration of the Mass at Midnight.
Las Posadas has its origins, possibly, from Father Diego de Soria, a religious of the order of St. Augustine. He was an enthusiastic priest, introducing the devotion in Mexico, in the church of Alcoman, in 1587. It was the intention of this celebrated religious to contrast the celebration of the Aztecs in honor of their god of war, Huitzilopochtli. It was celebrated at the same time as the time of the Nativity, and was presenting many problems of attraction for the neophyte Christians.
Las Posadas of Father Diego became popular very quickly and extended to other churches in Mexico and the surrounding countryside. It then began to be celebrated in the homes of individuals.
It is the celebration of the "pilgrims" who go from house to house led by an angel who conducts the little donkey with the seated Virgin. She is accompanied by St. Joseph. They sing songs as they look for shelter, the masters of the houses open their doors and all who participate share in the buffet which the owners (innkeepers) of the house offer.
The people celebrate that the messiah will come again. It is the celebration of preparation for this coming. It is time to open the doors of our hearts to give shelter. How do we give shelter to Jesus? By the doing of good works. It is the preparation time for the doing and practicing of the virtues. It is a time for coming together with our neighbors. It is the occasion for gathering with our families and with those who live near us.--Fiestas Navideñas
Las Posadas is based on the Lukan nativity, because Luke has the Holy Family travel from Nazareth to Bethlehem to answer Caesar’s census. No, there no record of a census around the conjectured year of Christ’s birth, but history as it appears in news articles isn’t the point. Luke and Matthew, interestingly, have more in common in their nativities than the Virgin Mary. Both stories include the heavy hand of government on the small family. Caesar forces Mary to travel while she’s pregnant (how long into her pregnancy isn’t really said. “The time came for her to give birth,” Luke says; but we turned that into the night of their arrival in Bethlehem. We like to cut to the chase.). Matthew puts the journey two years after the birth, as the Holy Family this time has to glee Herod’s death sentence. Either way, rulers move the Family around blindly, without realizing they are playing a part in what the gospel writers consider God’s narrative. Jesus needs to be born in Bethlehem; but he’s a Nazarene. Caesar and Herod create the circumstances to make that narrative happen. It is an overlooked part of the nativity, that God as helpless child is exposed to the world's dangers from birth, and forced to travel by the whims of rulers whose only concern is for their own power. Las Posadas reminds of us of that, if we pay attention; and it reminds us of the power and importance of hospitality, an idea so central to the Biblical narrative yet so often and so easily overlooked.
The Lukan narrative is read as a story of inhospitality, but that's not necessarily true. There is a "renegade" reading of the Lukan nativity story, one that comes from a scholar who lived much of his life in the Middle East. He insists that the standard reading of the story completely misunderstands the culture of the area. Such inhospitality would be unthinkable; and besides, if Mary and Joseph did come to Bethlehem, family there would put them up (if they were as poor as most of the people, the thought of an inn would never occur to them, if, indeed, such commercial establishments existed at the time. More than likely, they didn't. The economy was very sharply divided between the "haves" (less than 5% or so), and the "have nots." There probably weren't enough people between very rich and poor to keep "inns" in business.
So where do we get the idea? This scholar said the word translated as "inn" referred to the guest room, not a free-standing building. He also said the "manger" was the feeding trough, a feature of most homes of the time (indeed, "manger" comes from the Latin, and still refers to the dining room, or "salle a manger," in French. Besides, the word Luke uses for where the Birth takes place is katalamati, could mean "inn, but "is perhaps best understood here as lodging...or guest room...." Arnot and Gingrich, Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament, 2nd edition, 1958, p. 414.).
Imagine that you are poor, but own a few animals. What you don't own is land, because land is power, and wealth. But you own animals. Where do you put them at night, if they are so valuable? In the one building you control, of course. Homes had a raised area, a platform just high enough for a feeding trough. The family slept on the platform, which also, because of the height, kept the animals out. The children of such poor families were regularly placed in the trough as a makeshift crib. So what Luke is telling us is not a story of inhospitality, but of peasant hospitality; of a ruler living as the poor lived, and living that way fully and completely and intentionally. The Appalachian carol "Jesus, Jesus, Rest Your Head" gets this as thoroughly as any Christmas song.
"But at the coming of the king of heaven, all's set at six and seven." Well, it is for us, because we are the rulers, not the peasants. The hospitality that is common among the poor, and practiced widely in the Middle East (the Bible is full of exemplary stories of hospitality, as valued by that culture), is not common among us. There are inns for travelers, other places for them to stay; and if they can't afford it, what business is that of mine? Who are they to me? Am I my brother's keeper? And who is my brother?
And then we attribute that attitude, of which we are justly ashamed (and which we vigorously disavow), to "them."
So Las Posadas is a lovely practice. But it can also remind us of our shortcomings. Perhaps it is no accident that it is not as common a practice in this country, as in Mexico. There are physical problems, of course (I can imagine doing Las Posadas here in Houston; it would take us all night to reach some of the houses of church members, even by car). But is there a cultural one, as well? Would we welcome the stranger so easily? And is there anyone more stranger to us, than the Christ? The One who told us that when we tended to the poor, the sick, the prisoner, we tended to him?
The Guest
by Anonymous
Yet if His Majesty, our sovereign lord,
Should of his own accord
Friendly himself invite,
And say 'I'll be your guest to-morrow night,'
How should we stir ourselves, call and command
All hands to work! 'Let no man idle stand!
Set me fine Spanish tables in the hall;
See they be fitted all;
Let there be room to eat
And order taken that there want no meat.
See every sconce and candlestick made bright,
That without tapers they may give a light.
'Look to the presence: are the carpets spread,
The dazie o'er the head,
The cushions in the chairs,
And all the candles lighted on the stairs?
Perfume the chambers, and in any case
Let each man give attendance in his place!'
Thus, if a king were coming, would we do;
And 'twere good reason too;
For 'tis a duteous thing
To show all honour to an earthly king,
And after all our travail and our cost,
So he be pleased, to think no labour lost.
But at the coming of the King of Heaven
All's set at six and seven;
We wallow in our sin,
Christ cannot find a chamber in the inn.
We entertain Him always like a stranger,
And, as at first, still lodge Him in the manger.
I felt kind of envious when I first heard of Las Posedas, it made setting up a little nativity scene with little statues kind of meh by comparison. Though here the last two weeks of Advent tend to be kind of chilly for doing that kind of thing. I'd certainly rather do that than have one of our hokey Christmas parades which have nothing to do with Luke or Matthew.
ReplyDeleteSince I first heard of it (when was that?), I’ve always wanted to attend one. I agree; better than a Xmas parade (I attended a lot of those as a kid, marched for a few years in high school).
ReplyDeleteI can't remember how long ago, it may have been in one of our mother's Maryknoll magazines, she was a longtime supporter of Maryknoll.
DeleteI used to be glad I played piano and not a band instrument because I'd have had to play in the freezing cold. Oddly, I had nothing to do with school music at all. One of the guys who had been in the band was shocked when he heard I was a music major, he hadn't known I was a musician though we'd been in high school together.
I played (haven’t again in decades) piano, and bassoon (in a marching band! What were we thinking?) One thing I know, is that I’ve never been a musician.
DeleteWell, and “freezing cold” in East Texas was one memorable football game in three years, and some chilly after sunset Xmas parades in early December. Heat was much more a problem, because we wore plastic (polyester) band uniforms with heavy wool overlays (who designed these torture devices?). Of course, our schools were greenhouses (literally; two glass walls in every classroom), with no a/c. No real heat, either. Looking back, I think the adults were all closet Nietzscheans (that which does not destroy me…)