Sermon:
December 26, 2004
Morning Services

Scripture:
Matthew 2:7-15   
Matthew 2:19-23

Now how’s that for a cheery Christmas story! We have just celebrated the manger scene, lit the candles, sung Silent Night and experienced the joy and excitement of Christmas, and now Matthew tells us that the child is in danger. How inconvenient to the story we love so dearly. 

Remember the first time you gazed down upon your newborn—or a friend’s or a relative’s like these two children who have come to be baptized today—and saw all the hope and love in the world captured in that one tiny face. There is no way we want the reality of life to intrude upon these happy and hopeful occasions. Alas, many newborns have broken the hearts of their parents as life progressed. Yet every newborn represents the hope for the future of a better world. Behind the feel-good Christmas pageants and uplifting worship services lurks danger, as the Jesus event is threatening to the Herods of the world, to the status quo. This life of promise in the innocent eyes of a baby will eventually break the heart of his mother at Calvary. But God always has the last word on such occasions. He told Joseph to flee the immediate danger, but he told Joseph to return as Mary’s hopes for her son, so seemingly dashed on Good Friday, were redeemed on Easter. God has the last word! 

After the magi have brought their gifts and the shepherds have basked in the presence of the baby Jesus, Matthew abruptly shifts the story to the backside where lie danger, suffering and threats. Jesus was not born into a perfect world, but into a world full of Herods. God tells Joseph in a dream to go to Egypt, no less. How ironic. Egypt, where scriptural memories of enslavement and deliverance form the core story of salvation for the Israelites, is now a place of safety and refuge. Joseph displays in his obedient response that the significance of this newborn child is that faithfulness means picking up everything and going to a place of refuge. This was no easy journey, as memorialized by countless artists through the ages. Just Google “Flight into Egypt” for links to the many visual interpretations of this event. 

The original hearers of this passage would immediately have understood the irony, but also the connection to another Joseph who was sold into slavery in Egypt. Furthermore, they would have understood the parallelism of Jesus as the new Moses, nurtured in Egypt, but who was to be the new deliverer. Matthew wants you to make these connections to the story, so that you might believe Jesus as the Messiah. 

This story had many touch points for Matthew’s hearers, as well as contemporary hearers. As with many Bible stories, you are invited into the story, to place yourself in the scene. What about the story stands out for you? Can you identify with Joseph, the faithful patriarch and protector of the family, who listens to God’s word and acts upon it? Are you prepared to do whatever is necessary to protect your family from danger, even if it means packing your bags and going to a foreign place? I know there are such heroic tales among you. 

In his new book, God Has a Dream: A Vision of Hope for Our Time, the immortal words of Desmond Tutu sum up the significance of today’s frightening yet hopeful story of the flight into and out of Egypt for the Holy Family. Can we remember we are part of God’s Holy Family? 

It is actually not so rare that people are ready and willing to take on suffering, and if not always suffering, at least the inconvenience for the benefit of another. The benefit is not accruing to you; it accrues to somebody else, but you take it on willingly because of your relationship, because of your caring, because of your love.

Joseph in a nutshell. 

Where are your Egypts, those places of refuge from “the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune”? This sanctuary? Your home town? What or who are the Herods that are threatening your life from whom you need to escape? An individual who means you harm, a deceitful boss, an unethical coworker, a fellow teen encouraging you to try it just once, a manipulating colleague, or an abusive friend, co-worker or relative? Or is your Herod a state of mind or a physical malady, an emotional, spiritual, psychological suffering, grief, confusion or unhealthy addictions which threaten you and/or your family? Closer to home, who or what are the Herods, or bad habits, in you that you need to escape? 

At one level, Herod reminds us of tyrants and threats through the ages. Today’s headlines echo the reality of Herod from Rwanda to Darfur to Iraq. At another level, Herod is a stand-in for our own dark intentions and experiences, be they addictions, broken relationships, pain or suffering. Christmas is not about promising us a suffering-free life, but reminding us that God is with us. Not only does Jesus face danger at the onset of his life, at the end he will experience the ultimate example of man’s inhumanity to man. 

Once again, listen to the hopeful words of Desmond Tutu: 

Dear Child of God, I write these words because we all experience sadness, we all come at times to despair, and we all lose hope that the suffering in our lives and in our world will ever end. There is no such thing as a totally hopeless case. Our God is an expert at dealing with chaos, with brokenness, with all the worst we can imagine. [Even the Herods of the world and our lives.] God created order out of disorder, cosmos out of chaos, and God can do so always, can do so now—in our personal lives and in our lives as nations. 

For me, this is also a passage of transition—from Jesus’ infancy to adulthood. Our anthem today, the famous Boxing Day carol “Good King Wenceslas,” also picks up some of the darker side of the Christmas celebration, acknowledging the bitter reality of “the rude wind’s wild lament and the bitter weather.” 

“Sire, the night is darker now, and the wind blows stronger;
fills my heart, I know not how, I can go no longer.”  

I suspect we have all had moments like that. The solution is to walk in the Master’s footsteps, not denying life’s hurts and travails, but walking with him in his own journey into and out of Egypt! The good king braved a fierce storm in order to feed a poor neighbor. Our call as disciples in the midst of our own Herod storms is to persevere and brave on. Wenceslas reminds us that when we are alone and life seems at its darkest, it is at such times that connections with other humans can help our “blood freeze less coldly.” A stunning example of the truth of that statement occurred just five short nights ago when 225 persons gathered to mark the longest night and share their darkest moments in this sanctuary, their Egypt. 

Then, just ten short days ago, the expectant joy of Christmas was shattered by a late night phone call from the Newark airport as the father and mother of my godson informed me that he had need to escape his Herod of alcoholism. God did not come to him in a dream, but in the form of parents, spouse, colleagues, therapists and doctors who advised him to flee from Herod’s clutches and seek refuge in the Egypt of treatment. On Christmas Eve, as we all waited expectantly for the coming of the Christ child, I received an e-mail with the news that my godson chose to flee his Herod for the refuge and safety of treatment, his Egypt. The story is not ended as we await in the hope of this Christmas story from the backside that he will return from Egypt to Nazareth. 

I have led a life of transitions out of one Egypt into another, so it can be said I was called out of many Egypts before settling in a New Nazareth. In a full working life, I have served dozens of different bosses: Rostock, Brackett, Bentley, Janney, Ward, Ritter, Vaux, Delp, Hulsey, Robertson, Dawson, Haase and Timmins, to name those I can remember. They were remarkable for their variety. I didn’t always like them but always learned from them. Some were sudden changes, others were expected. Some of them were older, some younger than I. Some were authoritarian, some consensus builders. Some were encouragers, some were nay-sayers, and others permission granting. Some were brilliant, some were dimmer. One was a saint, one was a crook. In all cases they required adjustments from me, and yet from each I learned. In spite of style, temperament and differing gifts, each person presented opportunities for me to grow and learn.  

Here at First Church, we once again are in transition. You have been served by the likes of Runkel, Thomas, Wright, Ward and Ritter, all with their unique gifts for ministry. The next level beckons to us as a fellowship in Jesus Christ to follow Joseph into and out of Egypt into our new Nazareth! Not to escape danger, but to mark transition. So as we are in leadership transition, I find the time bittersweet, but want to pledge to you (as I pledged at a recent Administrative Board meeting) that my goal is to work with Bill to ensure a smooth transition while assisting the new senior pastor, whoever he or she might be, to take us to the next level as we all learn and grow together in Christ.  

Another transition includes our relocation temporarily to our Egypt, the CLC, reminding us that the Israelites in the time of exile had to relocate worship to the synagogue, only to return to the rebuilding of the Temple in Jerusalem, not because of danger but because (as we are reminded in 2 Kings 12:3, 5): “Let the priests receive from each of the donors the money offered as sacred donations and let them repair the house wherever any need of repairs is discovered.” In recognition of this fact and opportunity, please join me in a litany of transition: 

The ancient Israelites undertook many times to refurbish the Temple, the place which symbolized God’s relationship with God’s people, so be with us as our beloved sanctuary undergoes refreshment. We thank you, Lord. 

As we take up temporary sanctuary in our CLC, we ask that God’s blessings go with us to our new home for worship, while we patiently await the refinement of this sanctuary and the installation of your new organ. We thank you, Lord. 

As we travel from this our worship home on Sunday mornings to our temporary home, accompany us with your Holy Spirit, your angelic messengers of music and worship leaders. Give grace to your servants, O Lord. 

O God, whose blessed Son has sanctified the use of material things, we commend this Moller organ on a safe journey to its new home, Holy Rosary Roman Catholic Church, in Memphis, Tennessee, and we pray that the joyous sounds it offered you, O Lord, be continued in its new sanctuary. Give grace to your servants, O Lord. 

O God, whose blessed Son worked with his hands in a carpenter shop in Nazareth, be present with all the artisans, technicians and laborers who will be building, installing and refurbishing our sanctuary, that laboring in your name they may share the joy of your creation. Give them pride in what they do and joy in serving you in their labor. Give grace to your servants, O Lord.