Showing posts with label Herod. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Herod. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

The Empire Strikes Back

(Scripture: Isaiah 60:1-6, Ephesians 3:1-12, Matthew 2:1-23)

Today we celebrate Epiphany – the actual feast of Epiphany was on Friday, January 6, marking the end of the 12 days of Christmas. Epiphany celebrates the revelation of Jesus to the Gentiles, as personified by the Magi, those strange visitors from the East who came to worship Jesus – and who, in the process of seeking Jesus tipped Herod off to the existence of a rival to his power. It’s a story of wonder, the coming of these foreigners to worship the newborn king – a story of horror, as we read of Herod’s slaughter of the innocents – a story of dislocation and exile, as Mary and Joseph and the babe live for a time in Egypt to escape Herod’s fury, basically as political refugees. During my first Christmas Eve here, back in December 2007 – and I used the same readings that had been used before I got here, and have continued with them almost unchanged in the years since - I was struck that the reading from Matthew 2 didn’t stop with the departure of the wise men, but continued all the way to the end of the chapter, with all that we heard Stella read today. Most churches stop short of reading the whole chapter – not wanting to frighten the children on Christmas Eve with words about a murderous psychopath of a king leaving a trail of slaughtered children in his wake – but your Christmas Eve service included everything, the good, the bad, and the ugly. And on that first Christmas Eve here, I thought that said something about this congregation I was just starting to get to know, that you didn’t want an edited, prettied up, Hallmark greeting card Christmas story, but wanted to hear the whole thing, warts and jagged edges and all – and I thought that said something about the faith of this congregation that was mature enough, durable enough to withstand all that life deals out. I was impressed – and I still am.

Matthew’s Gospel circulated within an early Christian community that was primarily but not exclusively Jewish, and so Matthew at every turn ties his birth narrative to the Hebrew Scriptures, what we call the Old Testament. In the Hebrew Scriptures, what we call the Old Testament, there’s a tension, a tug of war, between readings that admonish the Jews to keep separate from the Gentiles, to avoid any contact with them, to maintain ritual purity, and other readings that speak of the Jews being a light to the nations, instructing the Gentiles – which obviously involves being in contact with the Gentiles. This is especially true for those Scriptures written after the return of the Jews from exile in Babylon. So on one hand we have the books of Ezra and Nehemiah admonishing the Jews returning from exile to divorce and send away their foreign wives and any children they may have had with them, while on the other hand we have readings such as this morning’s reading from Isaiah, which tells the Jews rebuilding Jerusalem that “nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn”, picturing camels coming from the surrounding nations, laden with gifts for the Jews rebuilding the temple, bringing gold and frankincense, proclaiming the praise of the Lord. And this is the image Matthew has in mind when he tells us of the coming of the wise men, with their gifts of gold and frankincense and myrrh. In the coming of the wise men, our reading from Isaiah is being played out. Matthew is telling us that while Jesus the Messiah was born a Jew, he was to be a light to the nations, his coming was for all, Jew and Gentile alike – for you, for me, for all of us, and for our neighbors as well.

And then Matthew goes on to tell us that while the wise men from the east were delighted at the birth of child Jesus, the powers of the Roman empire, in the person of Herod, were distraught. For the powers of the Roman empire, the coming of Jesus was not a gift, but a threat. Rome wasn’t looking for a new king of the Jews – they had already appointed a king for the Jews, and his name was Herod. No others need apply. And so Matthew sketches out an account which would have reminded his Jewish readers of the Old Testament stories of Joseph and of Moses – just as Pharaoh had ordered the slaughter of all male Hebrew babies, Herod ordered the slaughter of the boys of Jesus age. Just as the dreams of Joseph in the Old Testament led him to Egypt, so the dreams of Joseph in Matthew’s gospel led him into Egypt. Just as Moses led the Hebrews out of Egypt, so Mary and Joseph brought Jesus out of Egypt. For Matthew and his community, Jesus was the new Moses, come to lead everyone out of bondage to sin into the freedom of God’s reign.

And so the birth of Jesus provoked wildly divergent reactions – joy, worship, fear, rage, even murder. To the powerless and those on the margins – the shepherds, the wise men traveling from afar – Jesus’ coming brought great joy. To the powers and principalities of the world, Jesus’ coming provoked great opposition – truly for them, Jesus was, as we read last week, a sign to be opposed, so that their inner thoughts would be revealed. And so throughout today’s reading from Matthew’s Gospel, Matthew repeats over and over and over, like a mantra: “having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, the wise men departed to their own country by another road. Joseph is told to take the child and his mother and flee to Egypt, for Herod is about to search for the child to destroy him….and they went to Egypt and remained there until the death of Herod. Even after Herod’s death, with Herod’s son Archelaus ruling, Joseph is warned in a dream to go to Galilee and keep his distance from Jerusalem.” Don’t return to Herod. Flee Herod, for Herod means harm. Stay away from Herod and his family.

Being warned in a dream not to return to Herod, the wise men departed to their own country by another road. Herod was the local puppet ruler propped up by the Roman empire – and having been threatened by the birth of Jesus, in today’s Gospel reading, the empire strikes back, to borrow a title from the Star Wars series. Having made our annual pilgrimage to worship the newborn king, which road will we take? Will we return to Herod, or will we depart by another path?

For us, Herod represents the worldly powers that be, the powers of empire – the powers of militarism, consumerism, the imposition of the values of the empire on other cultures. As Americans we’re trained from childhood on to see our military power, our wealth, our way of life as gifts from God. But one definition of idolatry is to worship God’s gifts, rather than worshipping God as the giver. And we can – and we do – misuse God’s gifts. World renowned theologian and UCC member Walter Brueggemann, professor of Old Testament at Columbia Theological Seminary in Georgia prior to his retirement, has compared the situation of Christians living in America to that of the Jews living in the Babylonian empire, or that of the early Christians living in the Roman empire – and the Jews and Christians faced a constant struggle not to get sucked into the values of Babylon and Rome. As Christians, if we are not to return to Herod, departing by another way means being not buying into everything our culture wants to sell us, but rather being self-reflective, even self-critical, seeing ourselves as we are, warts and all.

For in Ramah – located north of Jerusalem, and according to some traditions where Rachel was buried – and in Iraq, Afghanistan, and many other lands, Rachel still weeps and refuses to be consoled. I recently attended a talk by Celeste Zappala, a member of First United Methodist Church of Germantown and a Gold Star Mother for Peace. Her oldest son, Sgt. Sherwood Baker, was killed in Iraq on April 26, 2004 as he provided security for the inspectors who were searching for the fictitious weapons of mass destruction. She holds no grudge against the Iraqi people, and indeed feels solidarity with the millions of mothers there whose children have been killed over the past 10 years. Her words of rebuke are reserved for the government who sent her son into harm’s way on false premises. Her talk began with the words of Matthew 2:18: “A voice was heard in Ramah, wailing and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children, she refused to be consoled, because they are no more.” As Herod was on the rampage in our Gospel reading, Herod is still on the rampage to this day, killing innocents the world over. War is a human tragedy, often provoking crimes against humanity, but for military contractors, war is big business. They make a killing, in more ways than one.

We read this passage at our Bible study last Sunday, and many of us asked the question: “Why did God allow all those poor innocent babies to be killed?” At other times we’ve asked about the Holocaust, how God could allow the genocide of millions of Jews. But God did not create human beings as robots, nor is God willing to step in minute by minute to override every stupid, sinful decision human beings make - but instead God allows humans freedom of choice – and real choices have real consequences, intended and unintended – so in one sense, to blame God is to pass the buck. Perhaps a more appropriate - and more challenging – question is, “Why do we allow it?” We need to be aware of the road that leads back to Herod, and of the other road that leads to freedom in Christ.

I’ll close with these words from a song most of us learned as children: “Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me” As the sign on our social hall door says, “Let peace begin with me” – and with you, and with all of us here at Emanuel. After all, it has to start somewhere. Amen.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Coming and Going

Happy 2011! After our snow day last week, it’s great to be back at Emanuel, starting the New Year out right by spending time in worship. Since we were snowed out last week, today’s service includes elements of Christmas – the birth of Jesus – as well as Epiphany. So our service has included both Christmas carols and Epiphany hymns, and my sermon likewise has one foot in Christmas, and the other in Epiphany.

In the church’s liturgical calendar, today is Epiphany Sunday, which celebrates the revelation of Jesus to the Gentiles, which, I’d guess, is most or all of us. Remember that up to this point, everyone who encounters Jesus in the story – Zechariah, Elizabeth, Mary, Joseph, presumably the shepherds, Jesus himself – are all Jews. But on Epiphany Sunday, we give thanks that this revelation spread to the world at large. The word “epiphany” has made its way into our secular language to describe those occasional “Aha” moments we all have, those moments when we understand something for the first time or connect the dots for the first time, when, figuratively speaking, the little light bulb over our head goes on, and we say that we’ve had an epiphany.

Our Old Testament reading sets the stage. Part of God’s promise to Abraham in Genesis was not only that God would bless Abraham by making his descendents a great nation, but that great nation of Abraham’s descendents would become a blessing to the other nations. Our reading from Isaiah recalls this promise: the surrounding nations would come to Judah, to Jerusalem, seeking God’s glory. And they would come to Judah, to Jerusalem bearing gifts – the abundance of the sea, the wealth of nations…and, specifically, gold and frankincense. Matthew’s Gospel portrays the Isaiah reading come to life, in the form of – the Magi, or wise men, watchers of the skies who came from Persia, with gifts for a king. More than a little naively, they traveled to Jerusalem, the Jewish capital – where else would a "King of the Jews" be born, they supposed, asking “where is He who has been born King of the Jews, for we have seen His star, and have come to worship.”

While they may have been wise in tracking the movements of the stars in the heavens, perhaps they weren’t so wise in the ways of worldly politics. For in coming to Jerusalem and making their inquiry, they set off the paranoia of Herod, the local puppet ruler propped up by Rome – because as far as Herod was concerned, there was already a King of the Jews, and Herod was his name. No others need apply. To borrow some language from the old western movies, Jerusalem and Judah weren’t big enough for two kings of the Jews. But Herod forced a smile, consulted his religious advisors – who said the king would be born not in Jerusalem, but in Bethlehem, a few miles down the road from Jerusalem. Herod sent them on their way, telling them to come back when they’d found the baby, so that Herod could also come and….worship. Yeah, worship, that’s the ticket. Of course, the rest of our Gospel reading tells us that Herod had, not worship, but murder on his mind.

Jesus’ birth was revealed to the Wise men, and they traveled for many miles to worship. Jesus’ birth was also revealed – by the wise men – to Herod, and he sent his men many miles to murder. And likewise, Jesus’ birth is revealed to all of us, and to our neighbors.

How will we respond? When we come to worship, what gift will we offer? And by what road will we depart? As we mark the turning of the calendar and the beginning of the new year, these are questions to contemplate.

On Friday night, I took the train into the city to spend part of New Years’ Eve at my home congregation, Old First, at 4th & Race Streets in Center City, for their New Years’ Eve Watchnight Service. While this is not a tradition in our churches – and in fact it’s only the 2nd time Old First held such a service - it’s a strong tradition in the African-American community. I’m told it came out of the time of emancipation, when on December 31, 1862, New Year’s Eve, slaves were counting down the hours and minutes until January 1, 1863, when Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation would take effect, and, on paper at least, they had freedom, glorious freedom. Pastor Michael, the pastor at Old First, who once served a congregation in NYC primarily of immigrants from the islands of the West Indies, also told us that there is a West Indies tradition that the way you bring in the New Year’s Eve will determine how you spend the whole year. In some West Indies communities, New Years Eve watchnight services are bigger than Christmas Eve service. Old First’s service didn’t actually run until midnight – we started at 7 pm and ran till about 8:30 – but it gave the feel of awaiting the New Year, in the presence of God and among the folks who for 20 years had been my church family week in and week out. It was a small group, about 15 of us gathered in a circle at the front of the church – though I told them that at Emanuel, it would be considered a good Sunday attendance. It was a meditative time for the 15 of us who were there, a time to consider the joys and struggles of the past year, to confess and ask God to forgive us our past failings and to help us to be more faithful in the coming year, to share our hopes and dreams for 2011. And, of course, I lifted up a prayer for Bridesburg, and for Emanuel Church, that we here can be a place of hope and love and peace for the beloved neighborhood of Bridesburg in which God has planted us.

Which path will we follow in the coming year? It’s tempting for us, as it was tempting for the Wise men, to go back to Herod, to give lip service to worshipping Jesus while living in ways which, though greed and gluttony and fear and hate, through our personal choices as well as our choices of how we participate in the wider society, bring death to our neighbors, or ultimately even ourselves. It’s the road many of our neighbors travel; perhaps it’s the road on which we found ourselves all too often in the past, and it’s tempting to return to what we know, to what’s familiar.

Or, like the Wise Men, we can turn from the failings of our past and follow the prompting of the Holy Spirit within us, and, having come to worship the newborn King, depart by another road, rejoicing and giving thanks for all we had heard and seen. We can follow in the way of Jesus, the way of love for God and neighbor. We can follow in the way of Jesus, being open to the promptings of the Holy Spirit, embracing the future God has in store for us. For our congregation, celebrating our 150th year of service to this community, we can move out of the shadows of fear and discouragement, to say “yes” to the ways in which God is calling us to glorify God and serve our neighbors, to say “yes” to God’s call for us to say “welcome home” to those feel spiritually orphaned and homeless, to say “yes” to being the place of faith, hope, love, and peace that God is calling us congregation to be.

As we come forward in a few moments to the Lord’s table, may our souls be fed and our spirits strengthened, so that we can depart, rejoicing, to say “yes” to God in the coming year. May we, like the Wise Men, have our ears open to hear the voice of Jesus, our hearts open to feel the prompting of the Spirit. Where God leads, may we follow. Amen.
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Wise men and women still seek Jesus. Please join us at Emanuel United Church of Christ on Sundays at 10 a.m. We're on Fillmore Street (off Thompson). www.emanuelphila.org

Sunday, December 26, 2010

No Rest for the Weary? - A Snowy Sunday Sermon

(Scriptures: Isaiah 63:7-9, Hebrews 2:10-18 Matthew 2:1-23)

Note: Due to the forecasted snow, Emanuel has cancelled services for Dec 26. Here is the sermon planned for this morning

I’d like to begin by thanking everyone once again for all that everyone did to make our Christmas Eve service a night of beauty and wonder. From the beautiful decorations to the Scripture readings which everyone did so well, to Ralph’s beautiful organ music, to preparations for Holy Communion, I thought this year’s Christmas Eve service was especially meaningful.

And here we are again, not even two full days later, in worship to God. The presents have been opened, the turkey mostly eaten – or not – and we may feel like we need a vacation to recover from our Christmas holiday. We’re grateful for the privilege of making our annual pilgrimage to the manger, to pay tribute to the Christ child, but the time we spend there goes by all too quickly. We hope today will be a day of blessed rest, but tomorrow, we’ll be going “once more into the breach,” once more back to our daily lives. We may feel that while the lights and carols are beautiful, there’s no rest for the weary.

All this may give us at least a small taste of Mary and Joseph’s experience in today’s Scripture reading. This week’s and next week’s readings are out of sequence: next Sunday is Epiphany, when we read of the visit of the Wise Men. Today’s reading tells what happens in the aftermath of their visit, when Herod tries to have Jesus killed. Both readings tell of events approximately two years after the birth of Jesus. Mary and Joseph are no longer in the manger – we’re told that the wise men found the child, not in the manger, but in a house.

But we’ll hear from about the wise men next week. This week we’re stuck with brutal, paranoid Herod. Herod kept order and control over his subjects, but it could hardly be called peace – it was more like a reign of terror. We may remember news accounts in recent decades over the brutality of present and past rulers in the Middle East, who out of their paranoia arranged assassination attempts on members of their own family and their advisors. Herod would fit right in….in some ways, the more things change, the more they remain the same.

Does anyone here today like to watch old westerns, maybe on Turner Classics? One familiar plotline is a new sheriff or US marshal riding in to clean up the town. At some point, the sheriff and the bad guy will run foul of each other, and the bad guy will tell the sheriff: “this town ain’t big enough for the both of us and I’m giving you 24 hours to clear out.” Of course, we know that the sheriff will chase out the bad guys, win the girl, and ride off into the sunset, and that’ll be the end of the story.

While the scenery is much different, today’s Gospel follows a similar plotline. The wise men had traipsed into Herod’s court and asked, “where is the king......., for we have seen his star?” Of course, as far as Herod was concerned, he was the king in them thar’ parts. Herod consulted his scribes and was told that a new king would be born in Bethlehem of Judea. And while Herod forced a smile when he talked to the wise men – “when you find him, let me know where he is; I’d like to come and…uh….worship as well. Yeah….worship…that’s the ticket” – our Gospel makes it very clear that, for Herod, his province wasn’t big enough for the both of them, Herod and the baby who is to become king; that Herod had, not worship, but murder on his mind.

For Mary and Joseph, who had endured one exhausting trip to Bethlehem to give birth to Jesus, there was no rest for the weary. But God does not leave the babe defenseless. Like the Joseph of whom we read in Genesis, whose dreams warned Egypt of impending famine and enabled Joseph, with Pharoah’s support, to store up grain against the upcoming years of hunger, the dreams of Mary’s husband Joseph warn of Herod’s murderous plans. Warned in a dream, Mary and Joseph and the babe become political refugees, fleeing to safety in Egypt until Herod’s deathMatthew is very explicit in drawing parallels between Joseph in Genesis and the Joseph who would become Jesus’ earthly father. In the same way, Matthew draws explicit parallels between Jesus and the Moses of the Exodus: Jesus for a time lives in exile in Egypt, until he, like Moses before him, can emerge to return to Galilee, to bide his time with his family until, as an adult, Jesus emerges to lead all humanity to salvation. Herod reacts in character to God’s intervention – unaware that Mary and Joseph and the babe had evaded his grasp, Herod has all the babies in and around Bethlehem 2 years and younger killed. And again, there are parallels to Exodus: here Herod is re-enacting the role of Pharoah, who instructed his midwives to have all the male Hebrew babies killed. For Matthew’s community of Jewish converts to the way of Jesus, these parallels between the Genesis and Exodus accounts and the birth narrative of Jesus would have been rich with meaning.

As extreme, as literally crazed as Herod’s reaction is, at one level it’s an entirely rational response. You see, Judea really wasn’t big enough for both Herod and Jesus. In fact, the whole world isn’t big enough for the ways of Herod and the way of Jesus. The ways of the world, the ways of Herod and the way of Jesus are incompatible. As believers, we can’t treat the way of Herod and Jesus as items on a buffet table, where we can take a little of one and a little of the other. The ways of the world, the ways of Herod, are ways of death, whereas the way of Jesus is the way of life, abundant life in this world and eternal life in the world to come.

In Jesus, God’s reign was breaking into our world in a new way, to break the grip of the powers of sin and death. As Ralph (in one of his moments away from the organ) read from John’s Gospel with such passion and eloquence at Christmas Eve, the Word, the creative power of God through whom all the universe was brought into being, became flesh, and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth. All who receive Jesus, who believe in Jesus’ name, are given power to become children of God. Grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made God known to us.

But, as Ralph also read, while the world came into being through the Word, the world did not know him. Jesus came into the world to save, and in response the world, through Herod, sought to destroy. Mary and Joseph were entrusted with the care of Jesus, the Word made flesh, and while their lives were eventful – the stories they could tell! - they could hardly have been called easy.

And so it often is with us. When we become disciples of Jesus, we turn away the ways of the world, the flesh, and the devil. And the world, the flesh, and the devil will push back. We may find our lives becoming, not easier, but more complicated, just as Mary and Joseph’s faith led them into life as political refugees. There are costs to being a disciple of Jesus. We find ourselves, not in a sheltered retreat, but on a battlefield, in the thick of the action. And we can’t even pick up Herod’s weapons and use them against Herod. The ways of Herod only lead to death. We can only combat Herod with the weapons of the spirit, following in the way of Jesus. God does not promise us an easy life, but God does promise his presence in the struggle, his presence on our journey of life.

Jesus said, “Come unto me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” It’s a strange kind of rest, not a rest of idle inactivity, but a rest that comes with knowing that, while the battle may be fierce, the outcome is assured, and we will welcome it. Perhaps it could be compared to the calm at the center of a hurricane; while life swirls around us, we can find a calm center within ourselves that comes with faith in God. And while our lives may not be easy, we are promised that we will have the peace of Christ, that peace that passes all understanding, that peace that the world can neither give nor take away. May that peace be with us now, and go with us always. Amen.

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Please start off 2011 right, by joining us next Sunday at 10 am (Epiphany or "Three Kings" Sunday) at Emanuel United Church of Christ. We're on Fillmore Street (off Thompson).