There is a story told of an estate owner. He managed his land by letting it out to tenants. Each one held a plot, and they had freedom to develop it as they saw fit. The story doesn’t say how much help each of them got in establishing themselves, but other stories let us assume that the owner was generous. They knew they were tenants, and that the owner would one day decide to collect the return on his investment.
However, when the owner sent other servants to claim the rent, the tenants had changed. Some had sublet the property, others had automated production. All of them had forgotten the owner of the land. the servants were abused and sent back empty handed.
The estate owner sent out more servants to remind the tenants and collect the rent. This time the tenants abused the servants and filled social media with posts to sway public opinion. The servants’ reputations were attacked and they were portrayed as foolish idealists.
So, the estate owner sent his son and heir. The reckoning was that this would remind the tenants of how it had been in the beginning, and give them one last chance. Like going himself, but leaving an opening to show leniency.
Even then, however, the tenants closed their minds to the reality of the situation. They killed the child and claimed that the land was their freehold. Confident in their control of the narrative they edited the owner out of the story, and sought to continue their lifestyles in comfort for perpetuity.
How do you think the landowner acted?
Of course he kicked the tenants out, their anguish and frustration was epic. They were in the wrong though, and once this came into the light no amount of PR or spin could cover up their treachery.
This is the way it is with all political and religious leaders who forget where authority lies. This is the message of Saturnalia, or the baptism of John and something Dickens tried to tell his readers. Those who seek to gain the world will lose it, but those who are willing to be broken will find life. It is a story for those who are in positions of privilege, may all of us be given the grace to see ourselves as we really are.
There is another story though. This is a story for those who are broken, all who seek, and everyone who wanders with their eyes open.
Even in the mirk there is light. This light has always been here, and it distinguishes those who have their eyes open from those who choose the wrong pill. This light is a seed at the beginning of time. It is God herself pregnant with creation. The quantum of solace that links heaven and earth. Not everyone recognises it, and those you might expect to get it, are often the ones who find it hardest to adapt their lives to this deep old magic in the present moment.
For those that can though, it is the baby’s cry at the birth of Love itself. It is the light from a star formed by the conjunction of heavenly bodies becoming visible in the humblest of places. With even just the smallest amount of humanity shared in a relationship, many frustrations can be worked through. This story is the good news that God shares humanity with creation, and has placed the seed potential to become children of God within the womb of time. The most ordinary thing we know of can become divine.
So today is an invitation to co-create. Follow the star, and see where it leads.
Merry Christmas.