Sermon for SMHP, Year C, Sunday of the Epiphany, Jan. 6,
2019
Matthew 2:1-12
In the time
of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the
East came to Jerusalem, 2asking, “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.” 3When King Herod heard this, he was
frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; 4and calling together
all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the
Messiah was to be born. 5They told him, “In Bethlehem of Judea;
for so it has been written by the prophet: 6‘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.’” 7Then
Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time
when the star had appeared. 8Then 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.”
9When
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. 10When they saw that the star had stopped, they were
overwhelmed with joy. 11On 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. 12And having been warned in a dream not to return to
Herod, they left for their own country by another road.
Like
all good art, this painting affects one slowly.
It works at several levels, and the point (or points) that the artist is
making come as you consider both the piece and its title.
I
believe the artist wants us to consider power as we observe the piece.
Government
agents using power to separate children from their parents.
The
power of love which connects them even as they are separated.
The
power of wisdom, and the lack of power in not utilizing wisdom.
The
power of art to drive an image into your heart like a stake.
I
cried when I realized what this image was showing us by juxtaposing a family
separated with the Holy Family.
It
is a powerful piece—would you agree?
I
want to talk about power this morning, though I should really say that I want
to continue talking about power. The
Christmas and Epiphany stories, which have provided the narrative structure to
four worship services in a row now—these stories are all about power. How power appears, who has it, how it is
used.
Consider
the nativity story as told by Luke, our evangelist for this church year, Year
C. The story begins with the Emperor—Augustus—exercising
his power to make his subjects bend to his will. “Y’all go to your hometowns so that we can
count you,” he decrees. And a very
pregnant woman and her loyal fiancé are forced to travel a hundred miles on foot and the back of a donkey...because the
Emperor has that kind of power.
The
child is born, then, in a place meant for animals. Wrapped in cloth and laid in a manger—a feeding
trough. How much power does he seem to
have? Yeah, well, you can’t always tell
who has power, can you?
Then
an angel appears, obviously exhibiting great
power—so much that like most angels, this one has to lead with “don’t be
afraid.” The angel tells the story to
shepherds—nobodies on a hillside.
Then “a multitude of the heavenly host” makes a big, powerful splash: “Glory to God in highest heaven and peace on
earth.”
And
after this very powerful moment, the narrative shifts back…to…
The
shepherds. The dirty nomads who follow
their sheep around the Judean hill country and beyond.
And
those nobody shepherds, who have already been the first to see the Messiah, also become the first to tell the story.
Which
means that God bestowed on them—the shepherds—the power of WITNESS. A really important power. Somewhere between occlumency and
divination. (That was a little shout out
for the Harry Potter crowd.)
The
shepherds exercise the power of witness to begin the work that has been
handed down for generations, all the way to us:
the power of observing the Christ and reporting what we see and
know.
Shepherds. Get that power. You can’t always tell who has power, right?
And
from Luke 2 and the shepherds, we go this morning to Matthew 2 and the wise
men. How many are there? No idea.
We assume three because they bring three gifts: gold, frankincense and myrrh. But if in a trivia contest you are ever asked
how many wise men, the answer is “we don’t know.”
What
do we know about them?
They
are powerful.
They
have means: gold, frankincense, and
myrrh. According to some scholars, the
gold is actually the least valuable of the three, assuming there was a decent
amount of the frankincense and myrrh. By
the pound, that stuff is expensive!
However
much there was, it is clear that these “wise men” come from a particular class
of people. They have stuff, and they are
able to travel around checking out babies.
And the description of them suggests that they are Zoroastrian
astrologers, whose powers of divination (there it is again!) would be
highly sought by other powerful people.
So
a far cry from shepherds, yeah?
And
yet, they inhabit the same plane in our Manger Scenes. The wise men have robes, and carry gifts, but
you just can’t discount those shepherds and their place as the first hearers
and first tellers.
The
wise men bring great gifts, and they are great astrologers. Or maybe astronomers? In any case, they find Jesus and Mary and
Joseph by following a star.
That’s
a lot of power. But their greatest deed
of power in the whole story is the deed they don’t perform. I am referring,
of course, to…?
They
“left by another road.”
They
were warned in a dream not to return to Herod, and they “left by another road”
to get back home.
Herod,
whose power was utilized for great evil during his reign, asked them to return
and tell him where the baby born King of the Jews could be found. He lied and said that he wanted to pay homage
to the child. We all know he had nefarious
intent, and Matthew goes on to describe how he realized he had been tricked by
the wise men and sent his soldiers to kill all of the children under two in and
around Bethlehem.
But
they did not kill Jesus, because Joseph had another dream, which told him to
“take the child and his mother and go to Egypt.” They became refugees, in a land which did not
erect a wall between itself and children.
A
land, in other words, far different from our own, where the power of the bully
pulpit has been joined to the power of the bully in order to demonize families
that look an awful lot like our Holy Family.
And
I feel very comfortable saying that all of us in this room are upset by
that.
Angry
about that.
Frustrated
by that.
But,
really, what can we do?
I
mean, the bullies have all the power, right?
We
don’t have any, right?
Today
is Epiphany. The word literally means
“revelation.” Jesus was revealed by a
star. And by wise men from the east who
followed a star to see a child of little means whom they knew to be a
king. Wise men who bestowed upon that
seemingly powerless child gifts meant for a king.
You
can’t always tell who has power.
Rosa
Parks was a slight African American woman, in a time when all of those things
worked against you.
Albert
Einstein had a learning disability.
Nelson
Mandela was in prison for twenty-seven
years, under the worst separation law in the world…at least so far.
Then
he became President of South Africa.
Listen
to the story of Epiphany. Let it reveal
itself. See Christ revealed in it.
See
Christ, and know that you have the same power once vested in shepherds: the power to see the revealed Christ, and to
tell of his power. The power of witness.
The
world needs witnesses. This. Nation. Needs. Witnesses. People willing to testify to what they have seen revealed in scripture, to what God
has done in their lives and in history, and in the lives of the least of all of
these. The ones who seem to be without
power but who are actually at the center of the Power of God’s Love.
Listen
to the story of Epiphany and ask yourself what it means for your life, this
day. Here we are on the precipice of
another year. Will we allow 2019 to
happen without intervention?
Or
will we find the power that is within us—the power of witness, the power of
testimony, the power of shepherds and wise men, to put our bodies in important places?
Will we stand for the ones who lack power in the spaces in which they
find themselves?
Hear
the lessons of Epiphany, people of God:
>Listen to your dreams.
>Don’t believe everything others
tell you. See for yourself.
>If your mission is true, don’t
let someone else co-opt it.
>Be brave. Find your own power, and don’t fear the power
of tyrants.
>Finally, pay homage to
Jesus. Offer him your gifts. Invite him to use your gifts for the good of
the world.
There
is a quote from the activist and writer Marianne Williamson which says this
better than I could. It is often
attributed, falsely, to Nelson Mandela, for obvious reasons. May these words reveal a truth to you.
Our deepest fear is not that we are
inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It
is our light,
not our darkness that
most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented,
and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does
not serve the world. There is
nothing enlightened about
shrinking so that other people will not feel insecure around
you. We are all meant to shine, as
children do. We were born to
make manifest the glory of
God that is within us. It is not just in some of us; it is in
everyone and as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give others
permission to do the same. As we
are liberated from
our own fear, our presence automatically
liberates others.
My
hope for you in this new year is that you will shine. And the world will be made better, by the
revelation of your power.
Amen
No comments:
Post a Comment