Unified by Mission

A Sermon for the Third Sunday after the Epiphany

Year A – January 26, 2014

 by Kim Baker Glenn

Master of Divinity, Union Presbyterian Seminary

__________

 Gracious and merciful Lord, open our hearts and minds this day that we may hear and be changed in some small way by this reflection on your word. Let us become more of the people you would have us to be. Amen.

When Jesus heard that John had been arrested, he withdrew to Galilee. He left Nazareth and made his home in Capernaum by the sea, in the territory of Zebulun and Naphtali, so that what had been spoken through the prophet Isaiah might be fulfilled:

“Land of Zebulun, land of Naphtali,
on the road by the sea, across the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles–
the people who sat in darkness have seen a great light,
and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death light has dawned.”

From that time Jesus began to proclaim, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”

As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea– for they were fishermen. And he said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.” Immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John, in the boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets, and he called them. Immediately they left the boat and their father, and followed him.

Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing every disease and every sickness among the people. (Matthew 4:12-23)

 

 

I appeal to you, brothers and sisters, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you be in agreement and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be united in the same mind and the same purpose. For it has been reported to me by Chloe’s people that there are quarrels among you, my brothers and sisters. What I mean is that each of you says, “I belong to Paul,” or “I belong to Apollos,” or “I belong to Cephas,” or “I belong to Christ.” Has Christ been divided? Was Paul crucified for you? Or were you baptized in the name of Paul? I thank God that I baptized none of you except Crispus and Gaius, so that no one can say that you were baptized in my name. (I did baptize also the household of Stephanas; beyond that, I do not know whether I baptized anyone else.) For Christ did not send me to baptize but to proclaim the gospel, and not with eloquent wisdom, so that the cross of Christ might not be emptied of its power. For the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. (1 Corinthians 1:10-18)

 As the fishermen in today’s gospel reading, I am endeavoring to follow Jesus’ call. Some of you know already that I graduated from seminary this past May. I spent my summer preaching at churches where I knew the priests; I wanted to find out what it was like to write a sermon every week. It was a daunting experience to say the least, but I truly enjoyed it. My husband explains my passion for ministry to his friends. He tells them he’s just waiting for all the money from my upcoming television preaching show to come rolling in! He’s kidding of course. He is actually my biggest and best supporter.

Knowing I would be bored if I didn’t do something last fall, I decided to enroll in “CPE.” “CPE” stands for Clinical Pastoral Education. Some denominations require it for ordination. I signed up for it because I really wanted to face the challenge, to test myself to see if I was up to it. I had heard my friends who are now priests talk about this CPE experience as having a significant impact on them – both personally and professionally. They told me how it had strengthened them in many ways for the challenges of priesthood.

I am not a stranger to challenge. I’m sure each of you has faced challenges that have somehow tested your mettle. We all face emotional, intellectual and physical challenges as part of just living in the world. We face a challenge or two every day it seems. How many of us have faced the challenge of getting to a meeting on time when all of a sudden we find ourselves stuck in traffic? Or maybe you have been challenged to find your way in anew city. Those are challenges that we handle alone; we make the decisions on our own. It is one thing to have your mettle tested as an individual but quite another to have it tested as part of a group.

The way we handle challenge takes on a different shape when the challenge is posed to a group that we are part of. Have you been part of a group that has to raise a certain amount of money? Or have you been part of a group that is challenged to find a more efficient process for manufacture of a company’s product?  In a group, there necessarily needs to be someone who provides leadership to guide the group toward its goal. Not everyone can be the group’s captain. In the reading from the Epistle this morning, the apostle Paul played the role of the leader.

The apostle Paul was addressing the members of the church in Corinth in this morning’s epistle. He had heard formed the church there and then moved on to form other churches. Through his trusted friends who remained in Corinth he heard of the infighting that was disrupting the mission of the church. We in the 21st century like to think that the early church was a place of peace and compassion with simple but lovely traditions of worship. We suppose that most churches of Paul’s day each followed the same set of traditions. It was far different from that in reality. The norm for that period was disorganization and a bit of chaos.

Have you ever studied anything about group formation? Groups tend to go through periods of unrest before they get to a point where they can effectively perform tasks. Part of the CPE experience is the study of groups, how they form and how they per-form. The other part is spent as an intern as a hospital chaplain. In the role of chaplain we are challenged on a deeply personal level. We learn to improve our performance when we perform alone. We have to interact individually with patients and reflect on our interactions in order to improve. In the study of groups, we start the process by getting to know each other, sharing autobiographies and personal stories of special significance. The idea is to learn to trust each other so that the group can move to a relatively high level of functioning.

 The church that Paul’s letter to the Corinthians describes is an example of the woes of dysfunction that the early church experienced. First of all, the church inCorinthwas mainly composed of Gentiles. The Gentiles were primarily of Greek descent while the apostles who formed the churches were all Jews. Most Gentiles inCorinthwere familiar with Jewish tradition. They had seen the city’s synagogues and the people who worshiped in them. The Gentile Greeks and their Jewish neighbors interacted with each other in everyday trade and city life. They got along as a society, but there were cultural differences. Life there was not too different from life in any port city we can think of today. Lots of people from lots of different cultural backgrounds participated in city life.

With all of the commercial activity in Corinth, the people were exposed to a variety of religious beliefs and some of them began to converge. When Paul came along to begin a church he brought these two groups, the Jews and the Greek Gentiles, together for a purpose. They were to serve as witnesses to the mystery of the risen Christ. These new members of the church in Corinthcame together for the same purpose but they didn’t share the same mind or understanding of what drew them to it. Because they disagreed about the reason for their being, the church members became divided. In very naturally human ways, they tended to compare each other’s thoughts and experiences and argue about them. Human competitiveness really got in the way of the Corinthian church group cohesion.

Paul was a visionary type of leader who understood intuitively what was causing the dysfunction. One of the traits of a visionary is an excellent ability to understand concepts and apply logic to solutions. He had an instinctive grasp on what each of the groups inCorinthwas thinking. They were split into factions that argued over the source of their baptism. It was up to Paul as their leader to step in and help them refocus. He understood that their baptisms were about the person in whose name they were baptized. The baptisms were all about a foundational relationship with Christ. Baptism was not at all about the person who performed the ritual. We do not belong to the person who baptizes us.

For Paul, baptism marks the beginning of something new It marks the beginning of the transformation of a human life from one committed to worldly achievements to one committed to the achievements of the cross. Paul wanted the members of the church inCorinthto be united in proclaiming the power of God. He saw the power of God most vividly demonstrated in Christ’s crucifixion and subsequent resurrection. That understanding had come to him through the vision of Christ that he had experienced on the road to Damascus. That experience had transformed him from a Christ persecutor to a Christ believer and persuader. He wanted the church members in Corinth to embrace and proclaim the power of Christ crucified. He personally knew that the power-of-the-cross had delivered him and all of humanity from the binding grip of sin and death. He knew that the power-of-the-cross meant freedom for people to live life fully. Paul wanted the church in Corinth to be united in mind and purpose about this mission.

 Think back to your experience of meeting a goal as part of a group. To be able to meet the goal, it’s important for each person in the group to be invested in it, for each person to believe in the validity of the group’s mission. Once that has been established then the whole group can move forward toward it’s goal despite the difference in personalities or cultural backgrounds of the individuals. It’s not even necessary that the individuals personally like each other or their leader. It is the common goal to which they all are committed that carries them forward.

That is what Paul meant for each member of that church to do. Each member should individually choose to make a commitment to Christ and not to anyone else – not to him or to Apollos or to Cephas. Then they could together be a witness to the power of God as it is revealed in the cross. Then they would be united in the same mind and the same purpose. Father Richard Rohr, a Catholic mystic, priest and theologian, says “Unity (happens in) the reconciliation of differences.” Father Rohr insists that individual differences be maintained within unity. The differences derive from the diversity of cultural influence and the diversity of individual personalities.

When groups gather, the balance of personality types can be quite variable. For example, as part of getting to know each other as a group in CPE, we share our personality preferences. When we examine all of our preferences in grid form we can see where the group will face challenges and where we will get benefit from working with each other. For instance, one of the preferences is between introversion and extraversion. You can imagine that it would be very difficult to get a discussion going if the group was made up of all introverts. The appropriate balance of diverse personalities helps to propel the group toward its goal.

Given that the church in Corinthwas formed out of a melting pot of cultural influences, balance may have been difficult to achieve in Corinth. Nonetheless, Paul urged them forward.  This was no small challenge. Corinth represents a microcosm of the church we know today. It is no small challenge for us today to stay focused on the mission and not the minutia.

The church today is filled with people representing different cultural identities. There is diversity of personality, culture, gender, race, age, financial resources and most significantly, theological interpretation. There are men and women, old and young, rich and poor of all nations. There are liberal and conservative spectrums in many denominations. These differences can be an enormous asset but they become a problem if each of us allows a single area of difference to define us. Paul is telling us in this letter to the Corinthians that the one thing that is truly definitive for each of us as human beings is the fact that Christ died for us. All of the other factors, that make us who we are, are important – but they are not ultimate. The cross of Christ is ultimate.

Paul says the cross of Christ is deemed to be foolish to those who are perishing. He means that those who claim that the cross and resurrection are foolish notions are not able to realize the fullness of life as God intends for it to be. In other words, since they are not fully living they are fully dying. Those who do not acknowledge the power-of-the-cross are perishing. My prayer for each of us is that we fully embrace the power-of-the-cross that is the center of our life together at St. Mary’s and the wider church. Let us together be united in the same mind and the same purpose that God intends for our church to be in the world. Amen.

In What Direction Are We Moving?

A Sermon for the Second Sunday after The Epiphany

Year A – January 19, 2014

David Hathaway Knight, Priest Associate

Send your spirit, God to open our hearts and our minds to your word, and strengthen us to live according to your will, in Jesus name. Amen.

From the book of the Prophet, Isaiah,

 “It is too light a thing that you should be my servant
 to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to restore the survivors of Israel;
 I will give you as a light to the nations, 
 that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.”

 One of my favorite services of the church year in places where I have served over the years is the Epiphany service of the Feast of Lights, a service that ushers in the season of Epiphany. It is a service rich in imagery. During this service, from one candle that is lighted in the chancel of a darkened church, the light is passed to the congregation until the whole place is aglow with light.  This symbolizes the Light of Christ going out into the world.  In the season of Epiphany, focus on Jesus shifts from his being an infant to his earthly ministry and how the church that bears his identity is called to carry out his ministry, spreading the light of the Gospel to the darkness in our time and in a world that is desperate for hope.

In this morning’s passage from Isaiah, we hear about the servant called to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to restore the survivors of Israel.  There has always been speculation among biblical scholars as to who this servant may be, but the pastoral impact of this passage does not depend upon a definitive answer to our question as to the identity of the servant .  Paul Hanson, a biblical scholar has put it this way when he describes the servant as both the faithful individual and the obedient community of the faithful.  In the larger picture, the call to faithfulness while powerful, is not unique to any one historical figure or any particular time.  It is God’s call to each of us to be lights in the world in our day as well. The voice of God’s representative in this passage we hear this morning speaks to us not out of weakness, but rather with the tongue of a warrior.  In the place of weapons, however,  these are the words we hear,  “He made my mouth like a sharp sword… he made me a polished arrow…And he said to me, ‘You are my servant,Israel, in whom I will be glorified.’”  The aim?  God’s will for salvation is meant for all.  It is compassionate justice that God has created and upon which all else must rest.  It is that quest for justice that calls for the voice of the church, and the church, if it is to be a light to the world, must not remain silent. In that context therefore, how are you and I called to be servants?

 Just this past Wednesday at our seniors’ lunch and program we were fortunate to have as our speaker, Bob Argabright, certainly himself a light to the world, who for the last ten years has been quietly working full time as a volunteer, tutor and advocate at Oak Grove Elementary School in the Bellemeade community in South Richmond.  He explained his involvement as a way to live his faith and share God’s love. I had occasion to meet with him for a few moments on Thursday and he said simply that he asks himself each day this simple question: “What am I doing today to make God’s love real to someone else?”  He deals primarily with young children and it is clear that he is an example of a light that shines in the world in which they live.  It is not only his work among these young lives that has been part of his being a light in that part of the world, however, but it is also his courage to speak out and raise questions about the politics of our city that suggest our priorities are askew.  How is it, he asks, that we can find millions of dollars to build a new stadium in Richmond, or find hundreds of thousands of dollars to replace trees that were cut down by mistake, yet there is not enough funding to invest serious money in the lives and futures of these young children in the Bellemeade section of South Richmond?  In his presentation on Wednesday, he described an image that ever since has been etched in my mind.  He described what it was like to hold a mirror close to one’s face and asked what it is that we see.  He then asked what we see when we hold that same mirror some distance from our face.  What will be the difference?  When we hold that mirror close we see only ourselves, our own image, yet when we hold the mirror at a distance, we see others and we see part of the world that includes others.  That night, I woke up, sat bolt upright in bed, thought of the image he presented, and said to myself, “Self, I wish I’d said that—indeed I shall!”  What a great image for us as God calls us to see beyond ourselves and to be lights of the world to others.

For each of us, being a light to the world takes form in many ways.  I have had the privilege during the last several years to come to know Alex Evans who now serves as pastor of Second Presbyterian Church in downtown Richmond. Formerly, he served in Blacksburg near the Virginia Tech campus. He and I have had occasion to work together in an effort close and dear to our hearts and to the hearts of many others across this land.  He is a man who speaks out on matters where a courageous voice is called for, matters about which the Church must have a voice.  In a recent letter to the Richmond Times Dispatch, he quoted the words of Chief Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr., who served on the U. S. Supreme Court. While he was citing them in a particular context, they are words that speak to a whole host of matters we face as a nation and as the church.  The Chief Justice once said, “I find that the great thing in this world is not so much where we stand as in what direction we are moving: To reach the port of Heaven, we must sail sometimes with the wind and sometimes against it—but we must sail, and not drift, nor lie at anchor.”   These words speak with clarity to us as we contemplate the Church’s role as a light to the world even as Christ himself was a light to the world.  There were those times when Jesus was able to sail with the wind, but there were those times as well when it was necessary for him to sail against the wind.  As we know, when he did that, he often got into trouble.  It finally got him crucified on the cross.  But sail against the wind he did when that was the direction in which he was called to head.  There are times when you and I are called to bring light into our world when the prevailing winds will be against us, but sail into that wind we must.  When that happens, we can rest assured that the Holy Spirit will guide us as St. Paul assures us when he writes as we heard this morning, “(Christ) will also strengthen you to the end…” As the church strives to be a light to the world, challenging as that call may be at times, the church can live in hope, because it is the example of Jesus himself that will be our strength to the end, and because God is faithful to all.

 In this season of Epiphany, indeed an important question for the church remains: In what direction are we moving? Are we moving forward as we face into the wind or are we looking back over some halcyon age in nostalgia hoping to keep things as they always were in the days of yore?  To look back can be very tempting, but as one lady I knew once said, “It’s OK to look back but don’t stare.”  What wisdom!  Other questions for us to ponder:  Is the practice of our religion relegated to the inner sanctum of where we can remain comfortable with what we see in that mirror when we hold it too close to our face, and we see only ourselves?  Or do we hold that mirror far enough at a distance so that we see ourselves in a larger context and thus perceive our call to have an influence in whatever way we possibly can on societal and national life where there is a need for justice to prevail?  If you and I are to take the words of the prophet Isaiah to heart, if indeed we take the gospel of Jesus Christ to heart, the church cannot, and must not, remain on the sidelines in the struggle for justice wherever the cry for justice is heard.   In this season of Epiphany, as throughout the year, all of us, clergy and people alike are called to show concern for the building of a better world.

 In what direction are we moving?

 The other day, I had lunch with a good friend and colleague who said once again what I have heard him say over some years. He said that if the Church is not pressing forward every day to meet the challenges it faces, then by the sheer momentum of the tide moving against us, we will move backwards.  And he’s right.  You and I are called by our baptism and by our common life to move forward with faithfulness and with the courage that is given to us by the Holy Spirit and by the grace of god.  In The Baptismal Covenant we are asked, “Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?”  We respond, “I will with God’s help.”

 The words of the prophet Isaiah come to us as a clarion call to respond

“It is too light a thing that you should be my servant
 to raise up the tribes of Jacob
 and to restore the survivors of Israel;
 I will give you as a light to the nations, 
 that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.” 

As servants of the living God, you and I are called to be lights to the world in any way we possibly can.  For each of us, that will require something different.  There is a promising message, however, to God’s call to you and to me and to the church when we strive to be faithful and to exercise courage in our witness to the Gospel.  It is that we as servants will find strength not only in our human effort but in our relationship to God. 

It was Christ’s compassion for justice that empowered him to sail, when necessary, against the prevailing winds of the day.  As followers of Jesus, can you and I offer anything less? In this season of Epiphany, as the Light of Christ goes forth into the world, how might it come to pass that you and I could be called to be a light to some place in the world around us?  How might you and I have the courage to speak and act even when it may well call for us to sail against the prevailing winds around us?  The question that is ever before us remains, 

In what direction are we moving?  

Send your spirit, God to open our hearts and our minds to your word, and strengthen us to live according to your will, in Jesus name. Amen.

.

Baptism: The Beginning. . .

A Sermon for the First Sunday after the Epiphany
The Baptism of Our Lord
12 January 2014

Eleanor Lee Wellford, Associate Rector

 Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him. John would have prevented him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” But Jesus answered him, “Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” Then he consented. And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” – Matthew 3:13-17

 The Youth Minister at the downtown Presbyterian church was worried about Thomas and his family.  They had become members of the church when Thomas was in fifth grade and the family had moved to the city.  They didn’t attend church on a regular basis but were seen often enough to be known by the pastors of the church. 

 When Thomas was in 8th grade, the Youth Minister asked him if he would like to be confirmed with the other 8th graders at church.  She was surprised that he and his family were as enthusiastic about the idea of confirmation as they were.  They showed up for the Orientation meeting and agreed that Thomas would participate in two retreats, mission activity, meetings with a mentor, and weekly classes of study and exploration.  As it turned out, Thomas was one of the most interested and inquisitive members of the confirmation class and made a number of new friends. 

 About a month after Confirmation Sunday, the Youth Minister realized that she hadn’t seen Thomas or his family in church which is why she was worried about them.  So she decided to pay them a visit. When Thomas’ mother opened the front door to their home, she looked genuinely surprised when the Youth Minister told her that she missed seeing Thomas at church. “I thought Thomas was all done” his mother said.  “I mean, he was confirmed, right?  Isn’t he all done?” 

 As the Youth Minster turned away from Thomas’ house she was sad and frustrated to think that the Confirmation program she had designed had failed to communicate the reason for baptism and the responsibility that came with the confirmation of it.  (Paraphrased heavily from Feasting on the Word Year A, Volume 1, Louisville, Kentucky: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010, p. 237-238 Pastoral Perspective by Roger Nishioka).

 Confirmation is the time when 8th and 9th graders such as Thomas explore certain aspects of their faith so that they can answer for themselves the questions that their parents answered on their behalf when they were too young to do so during their baptism.  These days, though, it does seem as if Confirmation marks for young teens the end of something instead of the beginning – the beginning of a life long journey of exploration.  And that is sad. 

 The gospel reading from Matthew this morning describes Jesus’ baptism by John at the Jordan River.  Jesus was not baptized as an infant and then confirmed as a teenager.  He was baptized and confirmed all at once – when he was a grown man.  And that event certainly didn’t mark the end of anything, but rather the beginning of Jesus’ ministry.  It was his commissioning to public service and it was endorsed wholeheartedly when a voice from heaven said: “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased” (Matthew 3:17).

 What do you think baptism meant to Jesus and why did he feel the need to be baptized?  We think of baptism as initiation into the whole body of the Christian church.  But there was no Christian church in Jesus’s day.  The baptism that John was doing in the desert was a Jewish ritual cleansing which John linked to repentance for the forgiveness of sins.  It was a way to prepare for the Messiah.  And John fully believed that Jesus was that Messiah.  John taught his own disciples that someone was coming who was more worthy than he and who would come with “a winnowing fork in his hand (and who would) baptize with fire and the Holy Spirit” (Matthew 3:11-12). 

 Yet Jesus approached John with such deep humility that it must have caught everyone there off guard.  John especially seemed stunned by Jesus’ request to baptize him, and immediately said that it was he who needed to be baptized by Jesus, not the other way around.  But Jesus insisted by saying: “Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness” (Matthew 3:15).

 So baptism must have represented righteousness for Jesus – a way to be right with God, his Father; a way to do his Father’s will.  I can’t imagine that Jesus was born any other way but righteous with his Father, but maybe Jesus sensed that his life was taking a new direction and needed to be marked by something significant, in the same way that a wedding marks the beginning of a whole new life of marriage.  Whatever Jesus thought at the time he was immersed in the Jordan River, he withdrew to the desert for 40 days to reflect on what would come next for him as he began his ministry. 

 I think for most of us, beginnings are easier to do than what comes next.  That’s especially true this time of year when we all have such good intentions to follow through with our New Year’s resolutions.  Have you ever noticed how hard it is to find a parking spot at a fitness center during the first few weeks of January?  Not a problem during the first few weeks of, say, July when many of us have already lost our resolve to get into shape. 

 Jesus never lost his resolve to do what his Father called him to do – no matter how difficult it was for him.  I can only imagine that he woke up every day renewing with increasing fervor what was begun in his baptism. 

 What was begun in our baptism?  Many of us were far too young to remember the actual event of having a minister apply water to our heads in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit and of making the sign of the cross on our foreheads to seal us by the Holy Spirit in Baptism and to mark us as Christ’s own forever.  Not until we prepared for Confirmation did we begin to understand our baptism and how confirming it meant becoming aware of the responsibility that came with committing ourselves to following Christ.

 Martin Luther believed that all baptized Christians are “priests” and “spiritual” in the sight of God.  And this belief was based on the 2nd letter of Peter which stated that: “You are royal priests, a holy nation, God’s very own possession.  As a result, you can show others the goodness of God, for he called you out of the darkness into his wonderful light” (1st Peter 2:9). 

Does that sound as if baptism or confirmation is the ending of anything?  No wonder youth ministers today are discouraged when they see such an obvious decline in their newly confirmed teens.  All baptized and confirmed Christians should feel a responsibility to show others the goodness of God in whatever ministry we choose.  We should want to do that because it will be the source of our greatest joy.  And what better place for our ministry to be shaped and encouraged than in the context of a community where Christ is at the center – which is the Church. 

 Today marks the Baptism of our Lord Sunday which is a good time to reflect on the meaning of our own baptism just as it is every time we baptize and confirm a new member into the Christian church.  In this morning’s passage we heard Matthew describe how the Spirit of God descended upon Jesus like a dove and alighted on him.  While it’s tempting to think of the bird which we have associated with peace alighting gently on Jesus, apparently doves swoop and dive like hawks.

 Imagine, then, the Holy Spirit doing that, claiming Jesus as its own in the act of baptism instead of simply affirming it.  If that’s the case, what is the Holy Spirit claiming us to do as a result of our baptism and confirmation?  What does it want from us? (Lectionary Homiletics, Volume XIX, Number 1, pp.56-57). 

 Jesus was baptized in order to fulfill all righteousness.  He commissioned many others to be baptized and proclaim the gospel to the ends of the earth.  We have been baptized in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit to do the same.  So in that respect, how can we ever be – as Thomas’ mother told the Youth Minister – “all done”?

By Another Road

 A Sermon for the 2nd Sunday after Christmas

 Year A – 5 January 2014

 John Edward Miller, Rector

 In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.” When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. They told him, “In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet:

‘And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,
are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;
for from you shall come a ruler
who is to shepherd my people Israel.’”

Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, “Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.” When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.   Matthew 2:1-12

The Collect

O God, who wonderfully created, and yet more wonderfully restored, the dignity of human nature: Grant that we may share the divine life of him who humbled himself to share our humanity, your Son Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Every Christmas Eve there are many compelling moments in the children’s service of lessons and carols, known to most young parents as “the pageant.” This service presents the story of the Nativity enacted by children. Perhaps that is why it is so moving – young people retelling the sacred narrative, singing the carols, and bringing the ancient scenes to life in miniature. We can see our tradition being passed to successive generations, each of which has fresh eyes and ears, thoughts and voices. And even though there are small glitches and nuances sprinkled into each year’s drama, we love every one, and savor the next edition.

Today’s gospel calls attention to one portion of the Nativity that features the adoration of the Christ child by the wise men. As we do in the pageant, we just sang the carol, “We three kings from Orient are.” When the carol is played, we see in our mind’s eye the three elaborately dressed, small magi processing one by one toward the manger. They bear gifts for the infant Jesus, and they lay them by his makeshift bed. This scene is powerful because it is a scene of recognition. The children get this message even though it is subtle and profound. The wise men know something about Jesus; they perceive a truth that has power to change the world. It is our challenge to receive it, and live it as adults.

Matthew’s story tells us that the wise men had traveled a great distance to search for the newborn king of the Jews. They had made their trek without the aid of maps or charts or a GPS. The eastern sages relied on another type of direction finder. They were used to looking to the night sky for astronomical portents, and they had found one – an unusually bright star that beckoned them westward towardJudea. Convinced that this was a beacon calling them toward the blessed event, they set out on their momentous journey.

The quest of the magi was to locate the Jewish messiah, a much-heralded leader sent by the God of the Jews to save their people. The wise men were fascinated by this concept, and even though they were Gentile foreigners, they desired to see for themselves what kind of king had been sent by the Jewish deity. Who knows what they expected to find? It was customary to offer gifts as tribute to a king – newborn or not. So these emissaries from another culture – perhaps ancientPersia– brought with them in treasure chests three things fit for a king: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. These gifts were rarities; they were precious items suitable for a precious child – the long-awaited messianic king. Popular legend had it that he would be the second coming of the great King David, whose monarchy marked the Golden Age of the Jewish culture. He would be a charismatic leader who would rescue Judea from the Roman army of occupation and restore the fortunes of the nation.

However, the infant they encountered was no King David. His little life was strikingly ordinary, and his immediate circumstances, which composed the scene of his nativity, were even less impressive than those supporting most Jewish children. The wise men had walked into a startling place of birth for a king. Perhaps it was his modest mother and her working-class fiancé, or the unusual surroundings that tipped them off. The baby was ensconced in a stable, surrounded by bins of animal feed, and he himself was lying in a manger, which normally served as a feeding trough for the oxen and asses who were now his stable mates. The visitors sniffed the aromas, took in the sights and sounds of a stable, and watched where they stepped, and knelt, to pay homage to this unusual king, who was clearly not royal by any measure. Here was a child born with straw, but no silver spoon, in his mouth. His lack of social advantage and hierarchical prestige made his prospects seem dim.

It appeared to them that Herod had nothing to worry about. The wise men noticed the look of concern that disfigured Herod’s face when they announced their mission to find the new king. He was a puppet ruler, but he considered himself a king. Sitting on his throne in Jerusalem, paid well by the Romans to keep peace among the Jewish people while the empire made off with their resources and crushed their spirit, Herod enjoyed the status quo. He was not about to let any infant ruin his sweet deal. So he sent the magi to Bethlehem, David’s native town and where the prophets said the messiah would also be born, to do some reconnaissance and report the child’s whereabouts. The eastern sages were wise, not dummies. It is likely that they recognized Herod as the jealous phony that he was. However, at first glance, the baby Jesus appeared no threat to anyone, much less a stooge backed up by the Roman army.

In their scholarly way the wise men were sophisticated. They had done the research, and read the Jewish scriptures. They understood the idea of David being a deity’s choice as a king, and why the people would hope that their messiah would be like him – robust, shrewd, ambitious, and cultured. As they knelt and gazed at the baby Jesus, his peasant family, and the conditions of that stable, they could have decided that the whole situation was preposterous, or a joke, or a colossal mistake. And they could have excused themselves from that simple scene, packed up their treasures, and bolted back to Herod saying that the whole idea was ridiculous, or that their predictions were wrong. “Nope, false alarm; maybe another time” could have been their cynical report.       

But, thank God, that is not what happened. Not only did they not dismiss the baby as hardly the kingly type, but they also did not go back to Herod. Instead, they left him in the dark as to the infant’s whereabouts, and they headed home incognito, pondering what they had seen, and recognized. Their response was full of grace and wisdom. But more than that, it was pivotal for those who embraced him inJudea, and for the Gentile world as well. What the magi chose to do, and what they chose not to do, were key ingredients of a triumph that could have easily been a catastrophe. So the question is, “What occurred to them in that Bethlehem stable?”

The visitors from the east must have perceived something momentous. It affected them in such a way that their internal compass was reset. It changed their perspective and transformed their lives. Matthew tells us that when they found the baby in Bethlehem they fell down on their knees and worshipped him. Why? Well, they were given eyes to see more in that infant messiah than meets the world’s expectations of a king. For them his face became light shining in the darkness of that musty stable. It enabled them to see kingship turned inside out. The baby was not an ordinary king. He exuded humility rather than the haughtiness of the high and mighty. He was powerless in the world’s sense of power, and yet powerful in another way – God’s way, which is strength revealed in weakness, compassion instead of compulsion, vulnerability in place of impassive imperviousness – all wrapped up in that bundle of joy. They saw Jesus, the Lord Emmanuel, the down-to-earthness of God.

 With their wisdom they surveyed the scene, took a look at the infant, and grasped his uniqueness. And they realized that their gifts for him were just right. In the words of the carol, as sung by each of the wise men

Born a king on Bethlehem’s plain, gold I bring to crown him again, King forever ceasing never  over us all to reign;

Frankincense to offer have I: Incense owns a Deity nigh; Prayer and praising all men raising, worship him God on High.

Myrrh is mine; its bitter perfume breathes a life of gathering gloom; Sorrowing, sighing, bleeding, dying, sealed in a stone cold tomb. 

 In that little manger they saw him, who is King for us, God with us, and a messiah that combines both in the servant who suffers for us, even unto death. It is easy to appreciate the significance of the first two of the wise men’s offering, But myrrh is not much of a Christmas gift. It is an ointment used to anoint bodies for burial. To have given myrrh to the infant messiah recognizes that his life will be one of sacrificial love. Thus the gifts were symbols of Christ’s nature and Christ’s role. The wise men offered them in faith. And, as the scriptures record, “being warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.”

“By another road.” Indeed, the road they took home was not the familiar one; it was God-given. It can be said that the wise men, in Robert Frost’s poetic words, “took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.”[1] Their pathway home was the alternate way inspired by their encounter with pure goodness. The difference it made was not simply that it helped them understand and foil Herod’s evil intentions, but that for them the way of love would become the way of life. The transformation they received is the gift – the one that surpasses all others, including gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

All of us have the opportunity to become as wise as the visitors from the east who peered into the manger and were changed forever. Whenever we encounter acts of compassion, or experience the power of sheer goodness, untainted by self-interest or lust of possession, we are in Bethlehem, at that stable, where love was born among us. What we are called to do in those moments is to pay attention, and let it affect us. Love points beyond itself; it gives direction, encouraging us to go and do likewise. Love can convince us to pursue another road on our homeward way – a road less traveled because it is steeper, and more challenging. Nonetheless, it is the better way, God’s way that gives hope and life to the world.

I traveled that road on New Year’s Eve. My vehicle was a large van designed to transport patients in wheelchairs and on stretchers toward a rendezvous with medical care. It was dark – outside and in. My heart was heavy with sadness, and my vision was clouded with distress. The occasion was the transfer of my mother from a rehab and nursing center to health care at Westminster Canterbury. Recovering from recent brain surgery, and facing a grim prognosis, Mom needed special care and good help. Her first stop on the way from the hospital did not provide that support. So, by the grace of many who labored to make a place for her at Westminster Canterbury, we rode through the night by another road.

The driver was a young woman, an EMT who serves in the Army Reserve. She was friendly, open, and efficient as she directed us to northRichmond. As hard as the trip was, I felt safe, and I pray Mom did too. When we arrived at our destination, my mother’s new home away from home, we saw bright lights that guided us to the entrance. Two professionals from health care – Mom’s nurse and the unit social worker – were standing in the cold waiting for her to arrive. When we entered to building, the nurse knelt down in front of Mom’s wheelchair, and greeted her by name. It was a radiant moment of meeting. The light in the nurse’s eyes and the warmth of her voice aroused my mother from a semi-conscious state. She looked into the nurse’s face, smiled broadly, and said, “You are beautiful.” And she was, and is. Love is her truth, her way, her life. The homecoming was powerful; it transformed us all.

In the Name of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, may we grasp those moments, and be grasped by them always. Amen.  

 



[1] Robert Frost (1874-1963), “The Road not Taken,” Mountain Interval. 1920.