 Rev. Scott A. Harmon |
Have
You Seen My Marbles?
Sermon:
Scripture: |
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Bron
and I receive many Christmas cards and letters. We enjoy them
all. A few years ago, we received one like many others. It
showed a beautiful manger scene. The birth of the Christ
child. Mary and Joseph are present, looking at Jesus.
Shepherds are gathered with their flocks. Stars are overhead.
And wise men are on bended knee adoring the infant.
I
have never meant to mess with anyone’s image of Christmas,
but I keep asking myself:
“What’s wrong with this picture?” It’s
wonderful art, but really poor history. Nowhere in the Bible
are the shepherds and wise men spoken of as being together.
Admittedly, it’s hard to show the elapsing of time in art,
but according to Matthew’s Gospel (the only place, by the
way, where wise men are mentioned at all), they arrive one to
two years after the shepherds. Jesus was likely no longer in
Bethlehem. The manger was certainly empty. The family is “at
home,” as Matthew tells us. Now,
as the father of two year olds (and maybe other parents have
had a similar thought), strangers coming to a manger and
seeing an infant wrapped in clothes is a very different
picture than strangers coming to a home to visit a two year
old. This may be looking at it through a twenty-first century
perspective, but my experience is that two year olds don’t
sit still long enough be adored. Unless they’re hurt or
sick, they don’t stay on your lap but a moment until
they’re off exploring their world (as two year olds should). I
guess it brings the whole thing down to earth for me, the
possibility of a little more chaos in the visit than what
artists portray. You know, Jesus running around. A tantrum now
and then. Mary exhausted at the end of the day. Something that
hits a little closer to our experience. None
of this takes away from the importance of what’s happening.
It simply allows us to hear what Matthew is saying and, if we
look closely, maybe see ourselves. After
Jesus was born in Bethlehem village, Judah territory—this
was during Herod’s kingship—a band of scholars arrived in
Jerusalem from the East. They asked around, “Where can we
find and pay homage to the newborn King of the Jews? We
observed a star in the eastern sky that signaled his birth.
We’re on pilgrimage to worship him.” When
word of their inquiry got to Herod, he was terrified—and not
Herod alone, but most of Jerusalem as well. Herod lost no
time. He gathered all the high priests and religion scholars
in the city together and asked, “Where is the Messiah
supposed to be born?” They
told him, “Bethlehem, Judah territory. The prophet Micah
wrote it plainly: It’s
you, Bethlehem, in Judah’s land, no
longer bringing up the rear. From you will come the leader who
will shepherd-rule my people, my Israel.” Herod
then arranged a secret meeting with the scholars from the
East. Pretending to be as devout as they were, he got them to
tell him exactly when the birth-announcement star appeared.
Then he told them the prophecy about Bethlehem, and said,
“Go find this child. Leave no stone unturned. As soon as you
find him, send word and I’ll join you at once in your
worship.” Instructed
by the king, they set off. Then the star appeared again, the
same star they had seen in the eastern skies. It led them on
until it hovered over the place of the child. They could
hardly contain themselves: They were in the right place! They
had arrived at the right time! They
entered the house and saw the child in the arms of Mary, his
mother. Overcome, they kneeled and worshiped him. Then they
opened their luggage and presented gifts: gold, frankincense,
myrrh. In a dream, they were warned not to report back to Herod. So they worked out another route, left the territory without being seen, and returned to their own country.
(Matthew 2:1-12, The Message) Traditionally,
a great deal has been made about the gifts the wise men
brought. We associate three gifts with three travelers. But is
that what Matthew says? Certainly it’s splitting hairs, but
the answer must be no. Some traditions speak of four, others
two. The Coptic Christian tradition even speaks of twelve. And
Matthew doesn’t say a word. The number must not have been
all that important to him. What
we do know is what they brought: gold, frankincense and myrrh.
Gold, a gift for a king. Frankincense, incense the Hebrews
used in worship. Myrrh, a spice used in the anointing of the
dead. The gifts point to who this child, Jesus, is: The
king of God’s kingdom. One
to be worshiped. One
who would die on the cross for our sins.
The
gifts point to who. But what occasioned their giving? In 1990,
Stephen Spielberg released a movie called Hook. We all
know it. It was a rewriting of the famous Peter Pan story. In
the movie, Peter (Robin Williams) has forgotten who he is.
Invited to return to England to see his now aging “Granny
Wendy,” he meets an equally aging—and very
eccentric—“Tootles,” a fellow Lost Boy (orphans who
Wendy took in) who seemed to have no coherent thought beyond a
persistent search for his marbles. “They’re lost,
they’re lost,” he says. “I’ve lost my marbles.” His
life is consumed in a search—a search for something lost,
something just beyond his mental clarity. When
I think of the wise men, the kings (however many there were)
or magi from the east (all the phrases are used), I think of
persons like “Tootles” who were on a search, a quest
taking them beyond the vision of those around them, a quest
ignited by a light in the sky. Not unlike ourselves, I
suppose, they were looking for answers, driven by something
aflame within, willing to take a risk if it meant finding for
themselves what they had only heard spoken of. This quest is a
spiritual journey that seeks first for truth and meaning, that
seeks the divine touch of God in our lives.
That
touch is called Epiphany—not just the first Sunday in
January or a Christian season, but any time that God reveals
himself to us! It is
Epiphany when God reveals himself to the searching in such a
way that we can’t help but be changed. It is Epiphany when,
while we have no idea how to talk about it, we know God has
acted in our lives. I suspect that is why as an adult, more
and more, the idealized robed kings with their jeweled boxes
and tasseled camels hold little interest for me. We look at
the garments and the regal gifts. We ooh and aah over the
scene on canvas or acted out and are left unmoved. There is no
revelation that quickens our pulse, that causes us to seek the
truth beyond what we can see, that opens us to the touch and
mystery of God. Do
you remember The Lion King? At the very beginning,
Simba, son of the Lion King, is about to be presented to the
kingdom. Tribal drums and chants herald his arrival. All the
animals of the plains, huge elephants and tiny ants, journey
to the announcement. They climb hills, descend into sloping
canyons, forge streams and hike jungle paths to be there. They
come streaming from far and wide. When the time comes, the cub
is held high. Trumpets roar. Birds call. The whole animal
kingdom shouts for joy in welcoming the new king. We
are all on the journey of our lives, yearning for the touch of
God, seeking to rejoice in his Epiphany, whether it be in our
marriages, our families, our decisions about the future, or
our memories of the past. Unless we have completely separated
ourselves from the spiritual life we have been born to live,
each and every one of us yearns to experience Emmanuel: “God
with us.” We are on the journey, searching too for
something, something far less tangible than a lost bag of
marbles: God’s presence in our lives. In
the movie Hook, Peter returns from “the land beyond
what is seen” and Tootles greets him saying, “I’ve
missed the adventure again, haven’t I, Peter?” Peter
simply holds out a bag of marbles. To which Tootles exclaims,
“I didn’t lose them after all!” as he laughs and
rejoices in their reunion. With that Wendy turns to Peter
asking, “So your adventures are over?” Peter, with light
in his eyes shines back, “No, oh no, to live is an awfully
big adventure.” It’s my hope that in Sunday Night Alive we find a place where we can
search together, where we can experience God’s touch in the
relationships formed with those around us, where together we
can sing praises to God as our lives are changed and we live
as people of Epiphany, seeking to encounter the living God as
those travelers did so long ago. They came seeking the new
king and returned to begin the greatest adventure of all, to
live having found him. Thanks be to God. May it be so for us. Amen.
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