Sermon: January 1, 2017 (1st Sunday of Christmas)
“Love Has Come”
Matthew 2:13-23
A friend of mine is a missionary in South Sudan, living and working in a refugee camp. She homeschools her 3 boys while her husband does leadership training and discipleship in the community. And she loves it. Bethany shares through facebook and her blog the many ways she experiences the richness of life and love in the desert of South Sudan, amongst people whose language and culture she doesn’t always understand. She wouldn’t trade her life for anything, as far as I can tell, and genuinely feels like she is where God has called her to be. As you may know, South Sudan is a country that has been plagued by civil war for the last decade, probably more. For as long as I can remember, there has been tension and violence in Sudan. Bethany reported on facebook this week that they spent the days around Christmas literally lying on the floor in their house to avoid getting caught in the crossfire between warring militia. On Dec. 27 all the missionaries in South Sudan were evacuated. Bethany and Eli describe more about their Christmas weekend in this blog post.
In our gospel reading today, we hear about how an angel appears to Joseph and says, “Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.” Even though scholars agree that this probably didn’t happen until a few years after Jesus was born, in our scripture the story follows the birth narrative in Matthew’s gospel, and in our worship life together, we read this story on the Sunday following Christmas Eve. So, in the rhythm of our faith narrative, Herod’s decree to destroy the children and Joseph and Mary’s need to flee to Egypt is part of the Christmas season. And, regardless of when and how these events actually happened, it’s not hard to imagine the chaos that Joseph and Mary found themselves in—fleeing in the middle of the night to seek safety.
Our own community is grieving today because one of our beloved friends spent Christmas in the hospital expecting to make a full recovery, but something changed and tomorrow we will gather for a funeral we weren’t planning for two weeks ago.
And I’m sure each of us has our own stories of when a time that was supposed to be full of joy and fun was suddenly impacted by unforeseen circumstances that changed everything.
Wait a minute…isn’t this the season of Joy to the World and Silent Night? Didn’t we just gather around the manger and celebrate the proclamation of the angels that was ‘good news for all people’? YES! That’s the point!! This baby we celebrate as God-made-flesh was fully integrated into the human experience…and that includes the pain and the darkness. The fact that this story of Joseph and Mary fleeing to Egypt is included in our scripture is a testimony to a God who doesn’t come only in the good times, but comes to us in our own experiences of fear, trauma, pain and transition—not to remove us from them, but to be with us in them and to remind us that we are loved. Christmas chaos is not limited to South Sudan or Bethlehem. In our own country’s history we have some significant tragedies that occurred around Christmas. In an article in the Washington Post after the shooting in Newtown, CT a few years ago, the author said this: “Christmas is God’s embrace of vulnerability. Christmas is God’s act of hallowing vulnerability by entering human history as a fragile child and living a life of nonviolent love… Love comes to open our eyes to look for holiness not in might and power, not in any futile attempt to secure ourselves against each other by force of arms, but precisely in our delicate bonds with each other.”
“Love comes to open our eyes to look for holiness not in might and power, but precisely in our delicate bonds with each other.” What will that look like for you this year? What will that look like for US this year? Do you tend to look for holiness in might and power, totally missing the impact of the delicate bonds with those around you? Do we as a community allow God into our vulnerability? As you set your goals and expectations for this year, how will you intentionally create space for God to be in the midst of the reality of pain, vulnerability, grief, and suffering? Because whether you are fleeing in the middle of night to escape political unrest, or whether your stress and anguish is much more localized, the light of Emmanuel shines in the darkness…in your darkness…and the darkness has not…and will not…overcome it.
That’s a message that is still needed today, wouldn’t you agree? The hymn we’re going to sing in just a minute has some powerful language. The first verse goes like this: longing for light, we wait in darkness, longing for truth, we turn to you, make us your own, your holy people, light for the world to see,” and then the chorus: “Christ, be our light, shine in our hearts, shine through the darkness. Christ, be our light, shine in your church, gathered today.” What if that was our New Year’s resolution, both individually and together as a community? What if this year we spent more time bringing light, longing for truth, and being God’s holy people? What if we regularly cried out, “Christ…be our light. Shine in YOUR CHURCH, gathered today.” How might that impact us? How might that impact our care and compassion for those on the margins in our community? How might that move us deeper into relationship with one another in ways that are authentic and transformational? How can we follow the example of God in Christ and embrace vulnerability for the sake of transformation?
The good news is that we can do this! We can be the light in the world! We can shine in the darkness with a message of hope and renewal. Because love has come, and God is here. And this love that has come down is not in the form of power and coercion. It is not a love that forces and controls. It is a love that sacrifices, that gives of itself, that walks into darkness and stands with, that says, “you are not alone in this…I am with you.” This love went to great lengths—even death and resurrection—to be known and spread among all people.
It is this love that compels my friend Bethany to live smack dab in the middle of the war-torn environment of South Sudan. It is this love that compels parents, teachers and other adults to keep walking with teenagers and two-year olds. It is this love that surrounds those who are grieving today. It is this love that motivates ministry with those who are shut-in and alone. It is this love that draws us to the font, to the table, and back out into the world. And just as God was present in the Old Testament with Miriam as she gave up her baby Moses, with Moses as he walked with the Israelites into the wilderness, with Joseph and Mary as they fled to Egypt, God is with you in whatever you are experiencing. God is with you in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. God is with you in the promises of baptism and the nourishment of forgiveness through Holy Communion. God is with you through your vulnerability and through the connections with those around you.
So, this year, as you ponder things like new years’ resolutions and goals for 2017, keep an eye open for the message of Christmas. The good news we proclaimed on Christmas Eve is true today, in the midst of the reality of the after-holiday blues. The message of Christmas is not just for one day, or even for 12 days. The gift God has given us through Jesus is real all year long, through whatever the next year will bring about. God is with us. Christ has come. Love is here. The light shines in the darkness. So… Be alert and aware of the light of Christ shining in the midst of the darkness. Be ready to BE that light shining in the darkness of others. And let’s, together, continue to cry out: “Christ, be our light. Shine in our hearts. Shine through the darkness. Christ, be our Light. Shine in YOUR church, gathered today.”
Amen.