Szőlő Street: God’s Presence Beyond the Palace
Okay, here’s a theological reflection woven into the Stockholm speech excerpt, aiming for a cohesive and impactful addition. I’ve focused on expanding the themes of depth,the marginalized,and God’s subversion of power,while maintaining the original’s poetic and narrative style. I’ve also added some transitions to help it flow. I’ve broken it down into sections with notes on the intent behind the changes. This is a substantial addition, so feel free to adjust it to fit the overall length and tone of your speech.
(Begin with the original introduction, leading up to the disobedient angel story. No changes needed here.)
…Therefore, he who lives in the depths need not look for him any further.
Where we least expect it, it is the closest to us. This angel captures the essence of the Christmas story:
God is not born in a palace, but in a hut. He chooses depth, not height.
This isn’t merely a quaint anecdote, a charming rebellion within the heavenly choir. It’s a profound theological statement. it speaks to a god who intentionally lowers Himself, who doesn’t demand we ascend to some lofty, unattainable realm, but rather descends to meet us in our brokenness.It’s a God who finds glory not in power, but in vulnerability.
Carl Jung somewhere reports a conversation between two rabbis. One of them asks why God does not show himself today: “The God of Mount Sinai once appeared in thunder, but how can he be found today?” To wich the other replies, “There’s no one today who can bow low enough.” God bends very deep. That is why he sees those who live in extreme poverty in Borsod, in a war situation in Ukraine, in the midst of terrorist threats in the Middle East, or even in the correctional institution on Szőlő Street in Budapest. And it is why He sees, and embraces, those whom the world has deemed unworthy of notice.
In Jesus, God was born into the abyss. To the world where the words of the psalmist say: “I cry to you from the depths!” Into deep poverty, into the depths of sin. Into the depths through which the Berlin U-Bahn travels, into the deep basement that Petri writes about. Jesus was born into the depths,into the edge. The savior was not born in Rome, not even in Jerusalem, but in the no-name Bethlehem, which was not even known by the GPS of the Eastern wise men.But not in an inn in Bethlehem, but in the stable. Next to cattle, in a manure environment. This wasn’t a random occurrence; it was a deliberate act of identification. God chose to be born where society cast aside what it considered refuse.
Jesus’ entire life was defined by this depth, this edge-being. The holy family had to flee to Egypt from Herod, who was fully intoxicated by his power and feared him, that is, Jesus learned about being a migrant as a baby. Then the fate of the homeless, as he had to say this: “Foxes have dens, birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” his execution also took place outside the walls of Jerusalem, in a synagogue. He did not have his own grave, he was buried in the cave of József of Arimatia. Each of these moments – the flight, the homelessness, the marginalized death – is a testament to God’s unwavering commitment to the forgotten, the displaced, the suffering.
Martin luther writes that God entered the world through the back door. The main gate would have been somewhere else. It was reserved for the emperor, who, as we know, issued a decree that the whole earth should be registered.
However, God does not allow this rule of law. He supersedes all human imagination. herod wanted to implement the human plan with his organization of violence. Of course, he was a minor compared to the emperor, whose plan included a census of the entire earth. The main gate would have been an exercise of power. The purpose of the census was to collect taxes, to finance the operation of the empire, the movement of officials, the costs of the military, and war expenditures. The command was to “enumerate the whole earth.” everything was registered, everything was indicated, everyone was registered. Becuase that is the nature of earthly power. Augustus and Herodes, if they could, would keep track of what József, the carpenter calls, when, why, and to whom.
They write in files what the girl from Nazareth dreams about. And also who understands. They cannot guess when there will be enough reason to dig up the file that violates their rights.After all, they have no right. As instructed, they obediently go to Bethlehem… **But in that very act of registration, of attempting to quantify and control, they unwittingly create the space for God’s subversive arrival. The empire