Wednesday, January 8, 2025

Kings of Defiance: January 5 2025

 Year C, Christmas 2/Epiphany                                  Matthew 2:1-12                                        

        The first church I served put on a rather elaborate Christmas pageant every year.  The sanctuary was transformed to the hills of Bethlehem.  Every year we would try different scripts with slightly different takes on the story.  One year, we decided to include King Herod in the pageant.  Instead of just having three wise men wander up to the manger, we had them stop first at Herod’s palace to inquire about the star that they had been following. We had a teenage boy play the part of Herod.  This boy was kind of meant to play Herod.  He was one of those kids who only had one volume and it was loud and authoritative.  (He’s now a Marine officer if that helps.)  He really leaned into the role and I realized when people gasped a little at his loud proclamation --why Herod doesn’t usually end up in pageants.  It’s just not the vibe people are expecting on Christmas Eve.  We want gentle, joyful, meek and mild---a story told as if we threw a gossamer fabric over the camera lens.   We don’t want gritty and real.  We have all the reality we need.

But today is the 11th day of Christmas, which means we can remove the gossamer filter and talk about Herod.  Because Herod is clearly an important part of this story. The Gospel of Matthew tells the birth of Jesus in 1 verse.  There are no shepherds, no angels announcing the good news.  We hear nothing about Mary’s thoughts or feelings. There is a reason that we read from the Gospel of Luke on Christmas Eve and not from Matthew.   It’s interesting given the lack of details about the birth, that there would be that much information on Herod and the magi. 

The first line of chapter 2 reads: “In the time of King Herod...” It was important to the author of the Gospel that the person reading or hearing this story knew the historical context...knew the kind of political climate that Jesus was being born into.  Just to clarify, there are a few Herods who appear in the New Testament.  This was Herod the Great---not the same Herod who killed John the Baptist or was involved in Jesus’ trial.  They were related of course and had a fair amount in common.  Both were deeply insecure about their rule and were prone to rash decisions. They would do just about anything to protect their power.  Jesus was born at the end of Herod the Great’s reign.  At this point in Herod the Great’s rule, he was known to be unstable and dangerous. He had killed many at this point, including his 2nd wife and three of his sons. 

        These magi (which means astrologer) had travelled quite a distance. They probably didn’t know of Herod’s reputation.  They were following a star, but as you can imagine, stars probably don’t provide the clearest directions…which is how they ended up in Jerusalem instead of Bethlehem.  They might not have been from the area, but they knew that Jerusalem was the seat of power and if they were looking for someone important enough to be represented by a star, that person was probably in an important city like Jerusalem.  And who better to lead them to that important person, than another important person--- King Herod.

        While King Herod was insecure, power hungry and prone to violence, he did have the information they needed---or more accurately, he had advisors who were experts in the Hebrew scriptures.  These experts were able to point the magi in the right direction, to a small town called Bethlehem. While the magi got the information they needed, their inquiry alarmed Herod and all in his orbit. The text says that all of Jerusalem was terrified by the news that these magi from the east were looking for a special person to worship. 

We just think of this story as a nice little epilogue on to our pageant, but for some reason, the presence of these astrologers threatened a whole city.  Why? Because they wanted to pay him homage.  That is what the text says.  They were there to worship someone, and that person was not Herod.  The knowledge that a greater power was in his midst terrified Herod. The reason that all Jerusalem was terrified was because a scared and threatened Herod was a dangerous Herod.  The people of Jerusalem knew that as long as Herod was threatened, there could be no safety in their city.

         King Herod asked the magi to return to him after they had discovered this child so he could worship him.  We all know that his intentions were bad, but these magi from out of town probably didn’t.  I am sure that they had every intention of returning to this helpful king.  But something altered their path.  The first thing is that they found Jesus and as soon as they saw this infant with his young mother, they worshipped that child and gave him expensive gifts that were gifts much more appropriate for a king than a baby. They saw something in this child. They also trusted the signs that brought them to this place, which required courage and confidence.  I feel like if I was in their situation and travelled all this way to find a regular baby with no special powers born to ordinary parents in a backwater town, I might wonder, was I wrong? Did I follow the right star?

It would seem these men had more than wisdom, more than expertise in the night sky and an adventurous spirit. They also had faith.  That faith enabled them to see something that most others couldn’t see.  It also empowered them to listen to a dream that told them not to return to Herod…which is kind of amazing when you think about it. They were told by a powerful man to return to him and they didn’t.  They found the courage to defy him and return another way.

        I have to admit until this year, I never thought of the courage and defiance of these wise men from the east.  I thought of them as dreamers and seekers. They were so much more than that.  Within just a few days, they encountered 2 kings—1 king who wielded power through threats and displays of violence, and one king who chose to enter the world as vulnerable as possible.

Reading this story as not just a sweet story about magi and stars, but about courage and power has made me wonder how we all identify power in our lives and who we choose to worship, to pay homage to. Who are we bowing before? These magi didn’t simply trust what they were being told by someone in authority, they trusted in their experience of the divine. Imagine the courage that must have required, to defy the order of a king because of what you saw in a star, a baby and a dream.

There are times in our lives when we have to trust our experience and our faith and not listen to whoever the loudest and most authoritative voice is at any given time.  Those voices have a tendency to drown other voices out--- to drown out truth.  I have been ordained for 19 years and there are still many times when I question my own experience of faith, my own encounter of the divine.  What I keep coming back to is the magi and their willingness to bow before an infant, to see power where most would see weakness and to listen to dreams that many would have dismissed. 

It’s kind of amazing the power of dreams in the first few chapters of Matthew. A dream convinced Joseph to take a pregnant Mary as his wife, instead of divorcing her.  A dream led the magi away from Herod and home another way.  A dream convinced Joseph that he, Mary and Jesus had to flee to Egypt because Herod was going to search for and kill all the male children under 2. In this story, dreams saved the King of Peace.

While I am not telling you all to follow every crazy dream you have, I do hope, in this season of the Epiphany that we can open ourselves to see God in the most unexpected of places— to find hope where others see despair, to acknowledge evil when we see it, and to discover the courage we have forgotten we have.  Because that courage will enable us to defy the powers that would seek to control and trample so many of God’s children. Instead, we can embrace the powers that seek to lift others up.  Jesus never wielded power by controlling people.  He displayed power through sacrifice and love.  That is the only God we bow before.

 

 

Christmas in the Dark: Dec. 25, 2024

Year C, Christmas                               Isaiah 9:2-7                                          

          “The people who have walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness—on them light has shined.”  We hear a lot of Isaiah during Advent and Christmas.  We hear it in the music, especially in Handel’s Messiah.  If that is your only exposure to Isaiah, it would be natural to assume it’s meant to be a bit of a preview for the dramatic unveiling of the Christ Child. But that would be a disservice to the Book of Isaiah, and the Jewish faith.  The Book of Isaiah is one of the longest and most significant books in the Hebrew scriptures.

          Because it’s so long and covers such a long time frame, it is usually divided into three parts.  The first part was the prophet trying to convince people to change their ways, or they would be conquered by a foreign power. In the second third, the Babylonians invaded and the people were driven from their land.  Their city, the city of God was in ruins.   Some were left homeless and friendless, but most were taken away to Babylon to live as slaves.  In that section of the book, Isaiah provided a message of consolation.  He assured them that God would save them.  The final third of Isaiah describes life after the Hebrew people have returned to their home.  But it didn’t look like the way they remembered it.  They had to rebuild and start over.  There were no easy beginnings or endings in Isaiah.

          Our reading for today comes in the first section of Isaiah.  There is a warning, but there is also hope. One of the challenges of the people of Israel was their tendency to put their hope in human kings.  They believed that their kings were divinely ordained and if only they could find the right king, then they would be safe and secure.  In many ways the US was started with a rejection of this concept, the idea that one person or a line of people could be our salvation.  Yet we still fall into that trap, don’t we----thinking that one person can save us or worse yet, one person can destroy us.

          Biblical scholars and historians believe this text from Isaiah wasn’t necessarily talking about a messiah who would be born hundreds of years later, but the reign of King Hezekiah.  King Hezekiah was a good and righteous king.  Despite that, during his reign, the Assyrians invaded and Israel was conquered.  This was not what Isaiah predicted in our reading for today. Our reading for today predicted a great light and the end to war.  It says, “For all the boots of the tramping warriors and all the garments rolled in blood shall be burned as fuel for the fire.” That was an allusion not just to the end of war, but the end of being the conquered.  That is not what happened. Not only were they conquered, King Hezekiah was followed by a corrupt king.

          One might wonder how prophetic Isaiah really was.  He promised a period of endless peace.  When we look at the Middle East, one would hardly describe it as endless peace.  Does that mean that Isaiah was wrong…or was he just wrong about that king---perhaps they just had to wait 500-700 years for the birth of Jesus.  Even the most passionate believers of Jesus Christ and his role as a savior and messiah would never try to argue that he brought a period of peace.  Look at any news outlet at any period in the history of our world---war has been a constant.  It is as reliable as death and taxes.

          And yet…I think Isaiah was on to something.  “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those lived in a land of deep darkness---on them light has shined.”  We can never know the beauty of light until we have stood in darkness.  We can never know what it is to yearn for light until we have survived the night that seems interminable.  We can never truly fathom joy until we have experienced grief. 

          Isaiah knew that salvation would not come in a king or any temporal leader, but only from a God so intent on bringing light to humanity, he would enter the darkness with us.  For millennia, we have associated darkness with sin, pain and grief.  We have shunned darkness in favor anything that can bring us light.  Yet what we know is that new life always starts in the dark---whether it is a seed in the ground, waiting for the soil to soften enough so it can break through, or a baby in a womb waiting to be born, or Jesus in the tomb, waiting for Easter morning.  New life starts in the dark.[1] 

          Jesus, the person who we celebrate tonight and every night, was not born in a palace—in a place of light and glory.  He was born in a barn, more likely a cave as that is where people kept their animals at the time. You know what caves are—they are dark. He was born in a war torn country to people who have been conquered over and over again.  He was born as an infant, as we all are, the most vulnerable of all creatures. The movies always show this big light shining down on this scene, but in the Gospel of Luke, there is no star, there is only darkness and a few people who found their way through the darkness. 

          I think sometimes we come to Christmas service to hear this heartwarming story that kind of ties our faith up in a neat and clean bow.  But the beauty of this story is that it’s not clean and it’s not neat.  It’s not even magical.  It’s real and it’s only the beginning.  It is meant to show us that even in the deep darkness of our lives, a light shines—not in spite of the darkness but because of the darkness. 

It’s not just a light---it’s a fire, a fire that fought hard to exist—a fire that refuses to be covered.  But like all fires, it needs oxygen to keep going.  It requires that all of us fight to protect it and refuse to ignore it.  In a few minutes, we will walk out of this (slightly) warm church---leaving the soft glow of candles. We will all have to go back into the dark.  I want you to hold on to that fire, stoke that fire so that it burns bright enough, not to defeat the darkness, but to bring more life into places where most only see death.  That’s our calling as Christians, to be bearers of light and fire, because we worship a God who has not defeated darkness, but who enters the darkness with us and then lights it on fire.



[1] From Learning to Walk in the Dark by Barbara Brown Taylor