Lectionary Readings for Sunday, December 30, 2007

Lectionary Readings for Sunday, December 30, 2007
First Sunday after Christmas Day

Isaiah 63:7-9 with Psalm 148
Hebrews 2:10-18
Matthew 2:13-23

Life has a language.
And scripture has a word for us.

In our church, the Christmas tree is still bejeweled with small white lights reminding me of the stars that somehow decided to rest in the fragrant boughs of a pine tree. For weeks it has blessed us, this evergreen that we brought in from the mountains, underlining once again that in Advent we are connecting with life over and over again: Angels speak, a baby is born, prophesy frames reality, the heavens play their part, we surrounded ourselves with evergreens that winter cannot vanquish.

And now a difficult scripture.

Its sheer violence almost stops us in our tracks. It becomes clear that there are indeed systems from which we must flee, there are safe havens we must find, there are times in our lives, in Mary's life, in Joseph's life, in Jesus' life, in which the powers of death seem to hold the upper hand. The peace that blessed us appears to be in short supply which the circumstances of power present themselves: opposition must be eliminated, Herod orders and, as I write these words, it happened in Pakistan too in yet another assassination.

We wonder, as we look at the still present Christmas trees in our churches just how far its symbolic power will reach, and how long its promise of new life will last. Once again we find ourselves threading the needle between the ideal and the real, thankful for the birth of a baby that caused such commotion and grimly aware of the families whose parents did not receive a warning that they too must flee to Egypt if their children were to survive.

Read the story for its thin line of life, knowing that deep and broad as our faith may we nevertheless walk a thin line as we travel through an all-too torn and troubled world. We too respond by “Getting up!” and by “taking” others as we flee towards safety. Read these words letting their power flood through you as “get up, take and flee” inform life in the midst of destroy, loud lamentation, weeping, fear, and yet more warnings. There is no room for pretend in any part of the story. Read it thankful for its reality and grateful that life found a way.

Word by word, slowly, read it.

Matthew 2:13-23

Now after they had left, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, ‘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.’ Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt, and remained there until the death of Herod. This was to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet, ‘Out of Egypt I have called my son.’

When Herod saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, he was infuriated, and he sent and killed all the children in and around Bethlehem who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had learned from the wise men. Then was fulfilled what had been spoken through the prophet Jeremiah:
'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.'

When Herod died, an angel of the Lord suddenly appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said, ‘Get up, take the child and his mother, and go to the land of Israel, for those who were seeking the child’s life are dead.’ Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother, and went to the land of Israel. But when he heard that Archelaus was ruling over Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. And after being warned in a dream, he went away to the district of Galilee. There he made his home in a town called Nazareth, so that what had been spoken through the prophets might be fulfilled, ‘He will be called a Nazorean.’

Several years ago it struck me that our readings of the Christmas story are remarkably selective. Christmas cards love to show a star, shepherds in the fields, a manger, the three magi, angels in the sky. They are almost inevitably an amalgamation of Matthew and Luke's rendition of Jesus' birth. And so, one year we decided that the Christmas pageant would tell Matthew's story. To prepare for it we brought dolls into the church and placed them in the pews. At first the congregation thought they were cute, and it was kind of fun to have a cabbage patch doll sitting beside you in church during the Christmas season. But then the story began.

Angels danced up the aisle to give Joseph his warnings. Herod issued his cruel order for the massacre of the innocents. At that point four or five kids, dressed as Roman soldiers, started making their way through the congregation.

“Give me your child,” they said as they began to collect the dolls. Suddenly the mood of the room changed. Without a cue, some of the parishioners said, “No!” “Give me your child.” “No! No!” It was a moment of anguish that threw us all off balance. Eventually the dolls were taken and placed in a pile at Herod's feet. One could have heard a pin drop. When it came time for Joseph to receive yet another message concerning his return we instinctively knew why he was afraid. And when he was told that Nazareth would be a safe haven, we were grateful. Sometimes there aren't many shelters in this world, and the discernment between which ones are truly safe and which are born of illusion does indeed require the guidance that only God can provide.

I share this with you to simply underscore the poignancy of this story we know about but so rarely actually take to heart. Suffice it to say, chances are that the good we have sought to do with our lives found itself in a thicket of violence which held the upper hand. There are times we have fled wondering if our fleeing was cowardice or if it was fulfillment. There are times we hoped life might do something for us, only to realize we would have to wake up, rise up, find friends and travel to a new place. And, inevitably, we have not done so without a sense of loss, and without a need for reconciliation. Soldiers often wonder why their friends died in battle while somehow they were spared. It is an inevitable question because it values life on all sides. We know that “my life” is “our life.”

We realize anew that Jesus came to save “us” and that this happens both in life and in death. Like the people in the pews that Christmas morning, we do not willingly hand over our children to the systems that would use them to prove a point. In the coming weeks, as we head toward the beginning of a new year, many there be many times we say, “No” as we say “Yes” to life and live in the blessing God gave to Abraham that then passed to Jesus and is now passed on to us once again.

Blessings to you.

Larry

I welcome your response to these columns. I may be reached at:
larry@leadingcausesoflife.org
Or
larrypray@gmail.com