Matthew
2:13-23
Exiled
and Reclaimed
The Sunday after Easter is
typically referred to as “low Sunday,” but the Sunday after Christmas also
ranks pretty low on the attendance charts.
This is somewhat understandable. As
with Easter, the professional staff and volunteer choirs are worn out by all
that has gone on in the previous weeks. This
is a popular Sunday for vacations. So much
energy went into the liturgies for Advent and Christmas that this week many
congregations will simply gather and sing Christmas Carols – particularly if
that congregation held the line and sang none during Advent.
The mood in the culture around us
also plays into it. I watch more TV
these days than any other weeks of the year.
I am never quite sure whether the TV ads reflect the mood or set the
mood. Regardless, the ads have quickly
shifted away from Christmas. They are
talking of “year-end sales events,” thus adding to a dis-jointed set of
emotions when I come to Church and continue to sing Christmas Carols. Doesn’t it even seem a bit odd to wish one
another “Merry Christmas?”
And, if I manage to overcome all
of the above and show up for worship on this, the 5th day of
Christmas, there aren’t “five golden rings” awaiting me, but this horrible
story of King Herod slaughtering the innocent children of Bethlehem. What’s with that? It is almost as if we wanted to ruin your quaint
little celebrations and cast a pall over your bright and cherry frame of mind. Talk about being subjected to an emotional
roller coaster!
I would apologize - and even attempt to change the readings for
this day - if this were going to be a once-and-done experience. But it won’t be. We are now in Year A of the Lectionary
Cycle. Throughout the year to come we
will be reading from the Gospel of Matthew.
And throughout Matthew’s story there will be a constant roller coaster
ride, quickly moving from one extreme to the other. Throughout Matthew’s presentation of the
Jesus story, we will find that the route taken by God’s chosen one mimics a Ping-Pong
pattern between being sent into exile and then being reclaimed. The most wonderful things imaginable happen
in Matthew’s story; so do the most unspeakable of horrors; and quite often they
happen in close proximity to one another.
I was trying to estimate how many
of you were here on Christmas Eve, to hear that sermon. The Christmas Eve message was about “Coming
home for Christmas.” A sign with this
invitation is still hanging in front of St. Andrew’s Catholic Parish. On Christmas Eve, we spoke in a warm, fuzzy
sort of way about “coming home.” Today,
when it is the few, the proud, the committed in attendance, we can be a bit
freer to talk about why the Bible’s homecomings are such warm fuzzy
experiences. They are moving and
powerful because they are most often positioned adjacent to a reminder of how often
the followers of God are sent forth from their home – to the place where God
has sent them.
The Christmas Eve Gospel is taken
from Luke. It is in Luke (and only in
Luke) that we have the story of Mary and Joseph traveling from their home in
Nazareth to Bethlehem. I mention this
not to draw sharp lines between Luke and Matthew, but as a way of acknowledging
that while Luke has no visit of the Wise Men to upset Herod and thus force the
flight to Egypt, there is in Luke this same roller coaster treatment of God’s
chosen ones. Mary celebrates what God is
about to do in her life; God sends her far away from her home and into a stable
for the birth of her child.
God does welcome us “home.” And in God’s house we find a place and a
people with whom we can experience the emotional good things we desire so
deeply. God beckons us; just before (or
immediately after) God sends us out.
We spend most of our lives (and
considerable amount of effort) avoiding those situations in which we are going
to feel exiled or alienated or separated or threatened. But it may be in the midst of those
situations where God is the most active or the most present or the most
prepared to direct our lives.
We are so protective of those
warm fuzzy feelings that we do all we can to remain on the sunny side of
life. But may be in the shadows where
God’s hand leads us.
I told myself a few months back that
I was going to do a better job at referencing the Bible so you all would feel
like it wasn’t a waste of energy to carry yours with you to worship – and I
have gotten away from that. If you do
have yours with you this morning, look with me at the opening chapters of
Matthew’s Gospel – specifically at the 11th and 12th verses
of Chapter 1.
Zach Parris, LCM-C alum and
campus pastor in Boulder, CO, turned me on to this “exile-homecoming” motif in
Matthew. He pointed out that the stage
is set in the genealogy of Matthew, chapter 1.
Ignore all those names, most of which are only found in this genealogy. What I want you to notice is that amid this
long list of names there is but one historical event mentioned. There, in verses 11 and 12, we have not one
but two references to “the deportation to Babylon.” The story of God’s people, taken from their
homeland to a strange and alien place, is the only interruption of this
seemingly endless list of names. The “deportation
to Babylon” comes after Israel reaches its greatest status. The deportation is sandwiched between the
establishment of the Temple in Jerusalem and the rebuilding of the same under
the leadership of Ezra and Nehemiah.
If you have your bibles and still
have them open, look forward in the story a bit. We stopped reading this morning at the end of
Chapter 2. In those closing verses,
Jesus is safe and secure and settled in Nazareth. But look at the next chapter. Jesus will be ripped from this tranquil
setting, caught up in the baptismal ministry of John, and then immediately led
by the Spirit into the wilderness where the next forty days he will experience
hunger and thirst and temptation.
We too often associate the
shadowy and dark and alien periods of our lives with God’s absence. Might it be that these are the very experiences
in which our following of God is the most urgent and the most likely to reveal
to us God’s presence and power and promise?
I will not retract the warm fuzzy
message of Christmas Eve – that God beckons us home and desires for us to be at
ease and find our rest in His house. But,
I stand with Matthew in proclaiming a message of one who is not only reclaimed and
called back - - - but also sent forth (even into exile) for the sake of God’s
unfolding hope for humanity.
The Christmas story is God’s
story. It is God’s response and solution
to the hatred and fear and evil which still results in the slaughter of
innocence. God’s response is never to
flee or hide or ignore; God’s response is to go. God goes, when God’s people are sent.
Thank you for braving the rain
and the cold and the temptation to brew a cup of tea and sit before the
Christmas tree for one more relaxing morning.
I am sorry that the Gospel reading was so frightful. But know this – comfort comes not only by
hearing of God’s work to shield us from all harm; it is also comforting to
realize that God is active even in the dark and shadowy events of life. Your reward for coming out on this “low
Sunday” is the opportunity to be reminded that God’s faithful servants participate
most clearly in God’s hope for the world when they share in this experience of
going into exile, then being reclaimed.
Those experiences may separate us from the tinsel and flashing lights,
but they do not separate us from God.
Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment