TODAY’S reflection remembers the late Phyllis Tickle, a good friend and insightful observer of contemporary religion. The episode recounts an argument when a church audience got heated over the nature of the virgin birth — and invites us to think about the mysteries of Christian faith beyond conventional approaches to science and history.
This excerpt is taken from my 2006 book, Christianity for the Rest of Us
Window 8
Phyllis Tickle was speaking at a large southern cathedral. About five hundred people, mostly baby boomers and older, attended her lecture. During the question-and-answer period, some asked what she thought about the Virgin Birth. As such questions invariably do, this one devolved into a discussion of whether the Virgin Birth was a matter of scientific and historical fact.
As the discussion got more heated, Phyllis noticed that a young man, about seventeen years old, who was helping set up refreshments in the back of the room, had stopped his work to listen. She could see him on the steps leading to the balcony, listening intently to the exchange.
When she closed her lecture, he came up to talk with her privately. “Ma’am,” he said politely, “there’s something I don’t understand.”
In her enormously generous way, Phyllis asked him, “What don’t you understand?” She was ready to expound upon the complexities of the Virgin Birth with the young man.
His response, however, forestalled her explanation. “I don’t understand why everyone is so upset about this,” he said. “I believe in the Virgin Birth. It is so beautiful that it has just got to be true—whether it happed or not.”
Later, Phyllis told me that she felt as if the universe had shifted. “It is a whole new world,” she said to me. “He had moved beyond mere facts to understanding based on apprehending beauty. I felt like I was standing on holy ground.”
From Christianity for the Rest of Us.
In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.
Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign.
In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.
Enough for Him, whom cherubim, worship night and day,
Breastful of milk, and a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, whom angels fall before,
The ox and ass and camel which adore.
Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;
But His mother only, in her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the beloved with a kiss.
What can I give Him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;
Yet what I can I give Him: give my heart.
— Christina Rossetti
The Cottage ADVENT CALENDAR is free and open to all. If you feel called to financially contribute to this work, there are two special ways to support The Cottage this December.
If you give a gift subscription during December, you will receive a copy of my book Grateful. And, during this entire month, 25% of all paid subscriptions (gifts, first time subscriptions, and upgrades) will go to support Rising Hope, a local ministry in my Alexandria neighborhood (about two miles from my house!) that serves immigrants, low-income families, the food insecure, and those without shelter. They are an amazing community - one of genuine courage and compassion.
Yet as I read the birth stories about Jesus I cannot help but conclude that though the world may be tilted toward the rich and powerful, God is tilted toward the underdog.
― Philip Yancey
An Advent Event
Shane Claiborne has picked Freeing Jesus as the December book of the Red Letter Christian Book Club! Read the book and join us in conversation via ZOOM on December 19 at 7pm. This is a free event. Click here for information and the sign-up link.
Oh, yes! What is true and beautiful - think on these things!
Growing up somewhat Catholic in a dysfunctional family, I married a non-religious man who also grew up Catholic. When I was pregnant with my first child, my mother died and, out of all 7 of my siblings, I was in charge of her funeral. It was then that I decided I wanted spirituality = religion in my life. Hubby reluctantly agreed. We lived in a southern state and our parish was huge - 6000 members. I, of course, became a Catechist and taught my son and his peers for years. I never met anyone who would talk to my son like you shared from Phyliss Tickle. My son, and I endured the “you are a sinner” looping mantra for years until we finally broke free. My son may never enter a church again, and for a while his spirit was broken. Then, mine, too. PEOPLE, please be like Phyliss - like I think you are since you’re already here!