Become the Change

The Light has come!  The Dawn is here! 

God created Light. 

And Light pushed the darkness into the shadows.

Light came and the world looked different, illuminated for the first time.

Light invited us to journey in a different way, to walk with Light.

But we wandered in the darkness, often mistaking shadows for Light.

The darkness sometimes made us afraid so we befriended darkness.

And then darkness taught us that we could see more clearly with Light.

So there, there in the darkness, we began to find Light.

Light began to flicker and shimmer over the waters and the earth and filled our space.

Light was like nothing we had ever known.

Light surrounded us and invited us into itself.

But we held back in the darkness, holding the Light at bay.

So, Light continued to shine into everything, even the dark and jagged corners of our world.

When we were lost, Light looked for us and we were found.

When we were grieving, Light held our hand.

When we were more comfortable in the darkness, Light waited patiently and beckoned us toward itself.

And when we could not find the Light, Light showed us our strength and our faith.

And then, undeterred, Light came, tiptoeing into our world, into even the darkness, without welcome or accolade.

And Light was laid aside.

So, quietly, oh so quietly, Light began to dance, filling the room, filling the world, filling us with Light.

Those who knew darkness suddenly knew Light.

Those who relied on shadows saw the way Light moves through them.

Light played.  Light danced. Light shimmered into the shadows of the world.

And Light invited us to join, to play, to dance, to shimmer.

And then we became part of the Light.

And even the darkness was filled with Light.

Light has dawned.  And Light asks us to dance—even in our darkness.  And we find that we are full of Light. 

The Light has come!  The Dawn is here! Go and be Light!  Merry Christmas! (SW 2021)

All the Presents have been opened
I’ve been up since early dawn
Sharing calls with friends and family
Dear old Santa’s come and gone

As we gather around the table
Holding hands we bow our heads
I thank the Lord for all of you
And this is what I said

I pray for peace to shine on a world that’s torn apart
I pray for faith to comfort and heal on troubled heart
For hope to restore our spirits, when the hopeless lose their way
May His everlasting Love surround us
This is what I pray

As we celebrate thе season and all the love that wе embrace
I’ll make sure to count my blessings when I see my children’s face
When I think about this Christmas right before I fall asleep
There’s still one thing I’ve to do to make this day complete

I pray for peace to shine on a world that’s torn apart
I pray for faith to comfort and heal on troubled heart
For hope to restore our spirits, when the hopeless lose their way
May His everlasting Love surround us
This is what I pray

I pray for peace to shine on a world that’s torn apart
I pray for faith to comfort and heal on troubled heart
For hope to restore our spirits, when the hopeless lose their way
May His everlasting Love surround us
This is what I pray

May His everlasting Love surround us
This is what I pray

Merry Christmas!

Shelli

The Moment the Whole World Changed

It’s finally here, this night of nights.  The Light for which we’ve waited and journeyed toward peers into the darkness and the world is changed forever.  This is the moment when the world really did change.  We love this story.  Most of us could probably recite it from memory.  But the story may not be EXACTLY the way we think.  It’s not like there was someone with a video camera following them around that night.  Only two of the canonical Gospel writers even tell the story and they tell it very differently.  The non-canonical Gospel According to James tells it in more detail but the birth takes place in some sort of cave.  (But, in all honesty, where did you actually read about a stable?)  The same account also brings in a midwife, which, when you think about it, makes a whole lot of sense.  So, no, I’m not trying to tear down your much-beloved story.  The truth is, it’s not about the story; it’s about the birth.  It’s also about the Light.  It’s about the Light of God coming into the world, however that may have happened.

This is the story of Light.  It’s the Light that has always been there, the light that was created so long ago.  It’s the light that led people home over and over again.  But it was always a light that was hidden in a cloud or shrouded on a mountain or even set in the promise of a bow in the clouds.  In fact, there was belief that if you saw that Light, indeed, if you saw God face-to-face, you would die.  But this night, this story, tells of Light not shining onto the earth but coming into the earth, mingling with us and giving us life.  This is the night that our story becomes the story of Light.

The Bible is not about people trying to get to God or get to the Light; it’s about the story, the story of God.  And this part of it, this chapter that we read and relive tonight, this holy night is not the climax of the story; it is a new chapter, a new beginning.  19th century American author and pastor Henry Van Dyke once asked “And now that this story is told, what does it mean?  How can I tell?  What does life mean?”  And then he answered himself by saying, “If the meaning could be put into a single sentence, there would be no need of telling the story.”

This is the night of the story of God coming out of the darkness and out of the shadows and showing us what we could not see before.  The Light is beginning to dawn.  It’s not a new light.  But this time, the heavens themselves spilled into the earth so that the story would become ours.  This is the story of Light.  It’s also the story of us.  So, what comes next?  Go into the Light…and follow God to write your story.

And change?  HAS the whole world changed?  I mean, we’ve been waiting and hoping and trying to make this happen.  But the truth is, it did.  Think of it as a turn of a corner.  There was nothing wrong with the story before.  It’s how we got here.  It’s part of it.  It was our journey.  And now, we turn.  It changes.  That’s what stories do.  The truth is, the world HAS changed…over and over and over again.  We will change again, not when Jesus returns, but when we realize that we are the ones that are called to change the world.  THAT was God’s vision.  It’s happening, a little at a time, over and over again.  We are called to be the image of Christ, to be the change that the birth of Jesus brought to the world.

The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness— on them light has shined. (Isaiah 9:2)

[Verse 1]
Every December, I stop to remember
The humble entrance of our King
An infant so precious
Makes men bow in reverence
I’m still in wonder when I think

[Chorus]
That in one night
The whole world changed
As the heavenly host proclaimed
Glory to God and peace on earth
In a manger our Savior lay
It was the moment the whole world changed

[Verse 2]
Sometimes I imagine
The way that it happenеd
When shepherds knеlt to worship Him
A love that was perfect
And no one deserved it
I’m still moved to tears when I think, oh, woah

[Chorus]
That in one night
The whole world changed
As the heavenly host proclaimed
Glory to God and peace on earth
In a manger our Savior lay
It was the moment the whole world changed

[Interlude]
Oh woah, oh, oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

[Bridge]
Jesus Christ, Emmanuel
Isn’t He so wonderful?
This is our moment to worship
Mighty God and Prince of Peace
Lord of Lords and King of Kings
This is our moment to worship

[Chorus]
Just like that night
The whole world changed
As the heavenly host proclaimed
Glory to God and peace on earth
In a manger our Savior lay
It was the moment the whole world changed

[Outro]
You changed everything, oh
Oh-oh-oh

Merry Christmas!

Shelli

The Beginning of What is Next

So, if you thought I was losing my mind yesterday when I posted the Creation story, now you are completely clear that I have.  Right?  Why this Scripture?  I can pretty much guarantee that no one reading this has ever heard a sermon on this passage.  It’s not anywhere in our lectionary.  (In fact, to pull it off the site from which I usually copy the Scriptures, I had to go to Matthew 1:18 and back up.)  It’s definitely an odd scripture to use on the day before Christmas Eve, the day when we finally emerge from the darkness into the glorious Light.  I mean, we usually skip these verses.  (Admit it, you do!  You don’t read this! I mean, some of the names are barely pronounceable.) It’s full of hard-to-pronounce words that none of us want to have to read aloud and, frankly, they’re kind of boring.  So, why are we reading them?  Because the whole story is buried in the details…

For some years, I’ve been interested in ancestry, in MY ancestry. It’s become quite the project.  I have over 2,000 people noted on Ancestry.com, 2,000 people to whom I am somehow related.  It started as an interest; it’s now part of me.  It’s part of me because I have on some level gotten to know these persons whose DNA pulses through me, whose DNA actually MAKES me.  I’ve learned their stories.  I’ve found out where they were born and where they moved in their lives.  That’s important.  And in the process of doing this, I’ve found people to whom I am related, some of which I already knew!  Even if you don’t know 2,000 people to whom you are somehow related (which means you’re NOT from my hometown!), recognizing that those people (even unknown) are connected to your life will help you know yourself better.  Ralph Waldo Emerson once said that “every [person] is a quotation from his ancestors.”  So, these people in this passage we read (whether or not we can pronounce their names) are part of that very human part of Jesus.  Jesus is a quotation from them.  They are part of this Incarnation we are about to celebrate.  They are part of us.  They are the people that God employed to show us what God-with-us meant.

Oh, I suppose God could come into the world with no help from us, with no help from all those faithful ones who came before us.  But what would it mean?  Why bother?  After all, the name of the Christ child is “God With US”.  Doesn’t that mean something?  God did not just drop the baby out of the sky like some sort of Divine UPS package.  The story is incomplete without those that came before. And it is incomplete without us.  Because without us, without every one of us, without EACH of us, God never would have come at all.  God came as Emmanuel, “God with US”, and calls us into the story.

And what a story it is!  It is a story of those that were called and those that ran away, a story of some who were exiled and some who wrestled, a story of scared and wandering people sent to new places and new lives with new names. The story includes prophets and poets, priests and kings.  It is a story of movement between darkness and light and, always, a hope for a Savior.  This line of David shown by the writer known as Matthew is 42 generations of God’s people, six sets of seven generations that lived and questioned and prayed and worshipped and wondered and sometimes shook their fists at God and then handed it off to the children that followed them.  Now you might remember that the number 7 is one of those numbers that connotes perfection or completeness, the hallowed finishing.  So, six completed ages of the history of God’s people waiting and watching and walking the journey and, yes, waiting on the world to change, brings us to the seventh, the New Creation, the beginning of what is next.

The Incarnation is the mingling of God with humanity.  There’s no way out.  The Divine is even now pouring into our midst and we are changed forever.  But we have to birth the Godchild into our lives.  Knowing that we could never become Divine, the Divine became us.  The world is turned upside down.  And so, God stayed around to show us how to live in this new world.  The writer of Matthew is right.  All this DID take place to fulfill what has been spoken by the Lord through the prophets.  The Light is just beyond our sight, ready to dawn, ready to call us into it that we might continue the story.  We are all walking together.  As Ram Dass said, “we’re all just walking each other home”.

As we come to the end of this path down which we have traveled our Advent journey (because tomorrow morning’s Scripture is a definite change in timbre), I’m not sure how much the world has changed.  I think we’re still waiting.  But think about this.  In the 42 generations up to Jesus and the myriad of generations since then (what is that, like 95 or 100?), the world has changed.  Perhaps one person or one generation has a hard time seeing that change.  But over time, as time unfolds and evolves, the world changes.  And I think, for the most part, in spite of the ebbs and flows in progress that we see now, the world has come just a bit closer to what God intends for it to be.  So, whether we see it or not, we are part of that change.  What we do (or don’t do) contributes to that change.  And, along the way, we change.  And that’s a really, really big part of it.  But we don’t do it alone.  Breathe in the presence of those ancestors that surround you now, those that, like us, struggled to see the fruits of their lives.  Tomorrow the journey will change.  Let us go together and see this thing that has happened. 

Grace and Peace,

Shelli

Changing Expectations

We usually think that we have it all figured out.  We walk through our lives with grand plans and grand illusions of what the world should look like and what we should look like to the world.  John was no different.  He loved Jesus, loved the things that Jesus represented–freedom, peace, righteousness.  And so, he had set to work telling everyone how he saw it.  But then all of a sudden, he realized that Jesus was doing things differently. Essentially, what Jesus was doing was not in the mold of what John had envisioned.  John was going around preaching repentance in the face of what was surely the Kingdom of God coming soon.  And here was Jesus healing and freeing and raising the dead.  John probably didn’t see it as wrong—just sort of a waste of time.  After all, in his view, there were people that needed redeeming, and redeemed NOW!  We need to get busy. “Jesus, really, this was not quite what we were expecting!”  So, he asks Jesus, “OK, are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?”  (As if to imply that we may need to wait for someone that will get this show on the road and make everyone get on board the way we think it should be.)

Well, the truth as we know it is that Jesus WAS Emmanuel, Jesus WAS God Incarnate, Jesus WAS the Savior for which the world had waited for so long.  The problem was that the world (and even John) could not see Jesus standing right in front of them because they were too busy looking for what they had expected.  They had expected a mighty warrior.  (Well, where was he?)  They had expected a king to whom everyone would bow.  (Well, that wasn’t happening!)  They had expected someone who would clean things up and make life easier.  (And you want me to do WHAT?  Hob-knob with the unacceptables and give up my place to those who haven’t worked for it and share my fortune with the less fortunate and essentially begin to go back down the ladder of progress to find what I’ve been missing?)  Truth be told, the world was expecting a warrior politician and got a demure baby in a manger, of all things.  Surely, THIS can’t be right!  I mean, really, how can we put our trust and our faith in one who is essentially one of us?  So, should we wait for another?

Years ago, the Today Show had a feature story about some young Panda bears who had been brought up in captivity.  But the plan was to eventually return them to their natural habitat.  So, in order to prepare them for what was to come, their caretakers thought that it would be better if they had no human contact.  So, to care for them, the people dressed up like panda bears.  In order to show them how to live the way they were supposed to live, they became them.  Well, isn’t THAT interesting!  I think that’s been done before!  In its simplest form, the Incarnation is God’s mingling of God with humanity.  It is God becoming human, dressing up like a human, and giving humanity a part of the Divine.  It is the mystery of life that always was coming into all life yet to be.  God became human and lived here.  God became us that we might see what it means to change the world.   God became like us to show us what it meant for us to be like God in the world.  The miracle of the birth of the Christ child is that God now comes through us.  God’s vision comes alive through us.

Jesus really didn’t “fit in”.  Jesus was not anything that any of us were expecting.  That’s the whole point.  Perhaps Jesus calls us to be what the world does not expect.  God did not come into this world to calm and affirm how well we were conducting things.  God came to show us a different way of living, a different way of being.  God came as one of us, Emmanuel, God With Us, to show us how to be one of us, to show us how to be human, fully human.  Who would have ever come up with that?  That was NOT what we were expecting.  Because you see, the miracle of God is here, dwelling in our midst, dwelling in us.  This is the mystery of the redemption of the world.

And, here we are, still waiting, waiting for the world to change.  What is your vision of that change?  What is it that you want to see happen?  Here’s the thing…what if our vision of what the world should be is not God’s?  What if part of waiting on the world to change is learning to change our own expectations?  What if part of wanting something new is realizing something new?  It’s hard.  I mean, we’re here.  We see what’s failing.  Well, remember God is here too.  And I’m thinking God has a much larger picture than we do. 

So, what are you willing to give up for others?  (Or is the world going to have everything it needs even when we have too much?)  What are you willing to relinquish so that others will have?  (Or is the world going to heal when we are spending time enriching our own lives?)  What are you willing to put forth so that others will hear?  (Or is the world on its own because we are afraid to speak, afraid to speak forward, afraid to risk.)   God didn’t call us to “fix” the world; God called us to be a part of re-creating it, part of a new creation, a new vision of what would be.  How willing are we to give up what we have, what we know, to let that vision come to be?  How willing are we to change our expectations?  Are you the one that is to come or are we to wait for another?  No, the world is waiting for us, the ones that God called to do this hard work.  Don’t get me wrong.  It’s hard—REALLY hard.  But God is here, walking with us, doing the work with us.  But we have to be open to the possibility that the change that we want so desperately may look a little different than what we thought.

Grace and Peace,

Shelli

Waiting on the World to Change

And, so, we begin again.  Today is the first day of Advent and the first day of our Christian year.  We’ve arrived back at the beginning.  And, yes, I know sometimes it feels like we don’t really get anywhere but as we traverse through our faith journey season after season, there really ARE differences.  Perhaps the light seems a bit brighter.  Maybe we are catching on just a little bit more quickly.  But, as the Scripture says, we STILL don’t know what will happen when.  And that, my friends, is what faith is all about.

But this Scripture is always a weird start to the season for me.  This can’t be right!  What happened to Mary?  Where are those angels announcing the coming birth?  And why are we reading about Noah’s ark? That’s just odd.  Come on, we need something joyful and festive to think about.  After all, life is hard right now.  Our world seems to have so many problems. It would be really, really great if some things would change. But why in the world are we beginning at what feels like the end of the story?  We start there because, as we know, the end is always the beginning.

The reference to Noah reminds us that life goes on.  Life is always going on.  The seasons come and go and come again (and, yes, some are filled with wind and torrents and crowds).  And, hopefully, somewhere in there, we become a little wiser and a little closer to God.  Hopefully, we’ll be able to recognize the rainbow when it comes.  But it calls for us to wake up a little and realize that we are even as we sit here being gathered into the arms of God.

Yes, there are those that would take this passage and understand it as predicting our being temporarily or permanently removed from this world.  Some even will try to hold it over peoples’ heads as a way to scare people into believing.  I don’t think that’s what it’s about, though.  Faith is not about doing the right thing or living the right way or being scared into a place that does not feel welcoming and grace-filled.  God doesn’t want us to come to faith kicking and screaming.  God desires a relationship with us and wants us to desire a relationship with God.  And God has enough faith in us to do that. 

So, the writer of Matthew’s Gospel writes about this relationship.  Those who are “taken” refers to being gathered into the Kingdom community at the end of what we know, just as some were gathered into the ark, redeemed in a way that they never thought possible.  So, being a believer means to stay awake so that we will be a part of it even now, awake to the surprises that are to come.  Because, imagine, what if the surprise turns out to be that Jesus was here all along, that ahead of time itself, he has been calling and gathering and enlightening and sanctifying all along?  What if we really ARE called to be the hands of Christ?  What if rather than waiting on the world to change, we are called to make those changes, to BE those changes? What if rather than dozing off or lulling ourselves into a sort of sleepwalking life as we tend to do, we have been called to be awake to everything that God continues to do?  So, are you awake?

So, Advent arrives, abruptly disrupting our comfortable lives.  And we are called to wake up to God breaking through the darkness into our lives—2,000 years ago, in the promised future, and even today if we will only awaken to the dawn.   Ralph Waldo Emerson once said that “people only see what they are prepared to see.”  So, now is the time to prepare.

The curtain on the Advent is now rising.  Jesus is not waiting in the wings somewhere until the play is done; rather, Jesus is standing on the stage itself, inviting us in. “Come, awaken, wait with me.  You do not know when the Glory will come but this waiting is a holy place.  Stay awake so that you won’t miss the inbreaking of the Divine itself, the dawn of the fullness of the Kingdom of God.”  The reason that we begin at the end is because it is the same as the beginning.  God is the Alpha and the Omega.  Birth and death are all wrapped up together, needing each other to give life.  Awaken now so that you do not miss one thing.  Open your eyes.  The baby is coming!  The extraordinary miracle of what is about to happen is matched only by the moment before it does—this moment, this time.  The world awaits!  Awaken that you do not miss the story!  Yes, I know you’re waiting on the world to change.  So, what are you going to do?

Lyrics:  “Somewhere to Begin”

People say to me, “Oh, you gotta be crazy!
How can you sing in times like these?
Don’t you read the news? Don’t you know the score?
How can you sing when so many others grieve?”
People say to me, “What kind of fool believes
That a song will make a difference in the end?”

By way of a reply, I say a fool such as I
Who sees a song as somewhere to begin
A song is somewhere to begin
The search for something worth believing in
If changes are to come there are things that must be done
And a song is somewhere to begin

Additional verses: 2) Dream… 3) Love…


© T. R. Ritchie, Whitebark Music/BMI

Grace and Peace,

Shelli

An Unfamiliar Journey

Scripture Passage:  Matthew 15: 21-28

21Jesus left that place and went away to the district of Tyre and Sidon. 22Just then a Canaanite woman from that region came out and started shouting, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.” 23But he did not answer her at all. And his disciples came and urged him, saying, “Send her away, for she keeps shouting after us.” 24He answered, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” 25But she came and knelt before him, saying, “Lord, help me.” 26He answered, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” 27She said, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” 28Then Jesus answered her, “Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.” And her daughter was healed instantly.

Sometimes we don’t exactly know what to do with this passage.  It tells us that Jesus travels to a place that is not his, to an unfamiliar place some distance away.  It’s not the wilderness that we’ve come to know but it IS a wilderness.  When we journey through unknown territory, through places that are not our home, through places that are not ours, places that we have not planned or planted, even places for which we feel totally unprepared, there is a certain wilderness aspect to them. 

And in this unfamiliar place, this woman appears to Jesus begging that he heal her daughter.  Her appeals got louder and louder and more and more insistent.  So, what was Jesus to do?  He wasn’t there for her.  She was Canaanite.  She was not Jewish.  (The Markan version of this story depicts her as Syrophoenician).  Either way, she was “the other”.  And at this point, Jesus understood that his mission was to the Jews.  This would not be right.  She was not one of them.  But the woman kept insisting.  (I will tell you, the reference to “dogs” is not a nice one.  Without offense to the dog-lovers and dogs among us, in 1st century Jewish society, dogs were looked upon as unclean, as scavengers.)  And, yet, even Gentiles, even the “bottom of society”, even the “dogs” gather the crumbs from the masters’ table. 

But, then, Jesus changes.  He stops, he listens, he changes.  See, this woman gets it.  Her faith sees Jesus as a sign of what’s to come.  This moment is, in effect, a turning point for Jesus.  (And we need to realize that that turning point is the reason we’re here.  We ARE the ones to which Jesus’ mission turned and broadened to include.)  I’m actually grateful the writer didn’t try to “clean up” the story.  This shows Jesus’ humanness, his searching, his exploring, his changing.  In this moment, there, in the wilderness, in the place that was not his, Jesus saw a broader vision of God and who God called him to be than even he had before.

I think that’s why Lent tends to be this sort of wilderness journey.  Traversing through places with which we are unfamiliar, places that perhaps do not feel like home, perhaps will never feel like home, gives us a new perspective.  Maybe we’re not called to make ourselves at home at all.  Maybe we’re rather called to continuously journey through newness, continuously open our minds and our hearts just a little bit more with each turn of the pathway.  I don’t believe that God calls us to stay planted where we are; otherwise, there wouldn’t be so many pesky wildernesses in the stories of faith and in our own lives.  The wilderness is where we change our course, where the road turns if only one small degree and, unsettled though we are, we turn with it and continue our journey with minds broadened and hearts opened.

But whether small or great, and no matter what the stage or grade of life, the call brings up the curtain, always, on a miracle of transfiguration-a rite, or moment, of spiritual passage, which, when complete, amounts to a dying and a birth.  The familiar life horizon has been outgrown, the old concepts, ideals, and emotional patterns no longer fit; the time for the passing of a threshold is at hand. (Joseph Campbell)

Grace and Peace,

 Shelli

What Now?

Lectionary Passage:  Matthew 2: 1-12

2In 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.

New Year’s Day is always somewhat mixed for me, filled with hope for the future, maybe a chance at a “reset” but also regrets for what the past year has left undone and a sadness for what is left behind.  I always have this feeling that I’m somehow leaving those that are not here to celebrate behind, like I’m moving into a place where they are not.  This year is especially bittersweet.  The good part is that 2020 is over.  I don’t know about you, but I’m glad to see this one leave.  But as I write this, there are officially 346,859 Americans that are not stepping into the new year with us because of Covid-19. One of those is my funny, flamboyant friend Brian.  And left behind with him is my friend Lahonda and sweet Maynard, the wonder dog.  Brian and Lahonda were musicians.  Maynard just sort of had his own song.  The music is still here but it is different.

This Scripture is used for Epiphany, which is not until January 6th but is celebrated by most churches this Sunday.  But it’s also a good reading for New Year’s, for that time of resetting what is normal, of rethinking what it is that is your life, and perhaps figuring out a way to carry the past with you in a new way. Now is the time to go back to what is “normal” (or in our case, parademic-normal).  But, regardless, what does that really mean?  What do we do after it all ends?  What now?  The truth is, “after” is when it begins, “after” is when it becomes real, and “after” is the whole reason we do this at all.

The text that we read begins by setting us “in the time of King Herod”.  And in it, we find that the last question of Advent comes not at Christmas but afterward and is asked not by an individual but by a group.  They believe that the star (or, for some, an unusual conjunction of heavenly bodies that produces an especially bright light—hence the “Christmas Star” name given to the recent conjunction of Saturn and Jupiter in our solar system) marks the birth of a special child destined to be a king.  And they ask, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews?

And so Herod hears that a king had been born in Bethlehem.  Well, the formula is simple—a king is born, but a king is already here; and in Herod’s mind and the minds of all those who follow him, there is room for only one king.  The passage says that King Herod was frightened and all Jerusalem with him.  They probably were pretty fearful.  After all, there was a distinct possibility that their world was about to change.  It seemed that the birth of this humble child might have the ability to shake the very foundations of the earth and announce the fall of the mighty.  Things would never be the same again.  So Herod relies on these wisest ones in his court.  The writer of Matthew’s Gospel says that they’re from the East.  Some traditions hold that these wise ones were Magi, a Priestly caste of Persian origin that followed Zoroastrianism and practiced the interpretation of dreams and portents and astrology.  Other traditions depict them with different ethnicities as the birth of this Messiah begins to move into the whole world.  In fact, the early Western church gave them names that depict this.  (No, these names are not in the Bible.)  But according to tradition, Melchior was a Persian scholar, Caspar was a learned man from India, and Balthazar, a scholar with a Babylonian name.  These three areas represented the known world at that point.  The Messiah had come to every nook and cranny of the world.

But, regardless of who they were, somewhere along the way, they had heard of the birth of this king and came to the obvious place where he might be—in the royal household.  So, sensing a rival, Herod sends these “wise ones” to find the new king so that he could “pay homage” to him.  We of course know that this was deceitful.  His intent was not to pay homage at all, but to destroy Jesus and stop what was about to happen to his empire.  It was the only way that he could preserve what he had.

According to the passage, the wise men know that Christ was born; they needed God’s guidance, though, to find where Christ was.  When they get to the place where the star has stopped, the passage tells us that they were “overwhelmed with joy”.  They knelt down and paid the new king homage and offered him gifts fit for a king.  Even though later interpreters have often tried to place specific meanings on these gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh, it is possible that the writer of the Gospel of Matthew simply thought that these gifts, exotic and expensive as they were, were gifts that would be worthy of a great and mighty king.  They were gifts of joy, gifts of gratitude, gifts of celebration. 

And then the passage tells us that, heeding a warning in a dream, these wise and learned (and probably powerful and wealthy) members of the court of Herod, left and returned to their own country, a long and difficult journey through the Middle Eastern desert.  But rather than returning to their comfortable lives and their secure and powerful places in the court of Herod, they left and went a different way.  They knew they had to go back to life.  But it didn’t have to be the same.

We often profess that Jesus came to change the world.  But that really didn’t happen.  Does that mean that this whole Holy Birth was a failure, just some sort of pretty, romantic story in the midst of our sometimes-chaotic life?  Maybe Jesus never intended to change the world at all; maybe Jesus, Emmanuel, God with Us, came into this world to change us, to invite us to travel a different way.  Maybe it has to do with what we do after.  It has to do with how we choose to go back to our lives.  Do we just pick up where we left off?  Or do we, like those wise visitors choose to go home by another way?  Do we choose, then, to change our lives, to listen to the familiar music in a new way?

God did not just visit our little earth so long ago and then return to wherever God lives.  God came as Emmanuel, God with Us, and that has never changed.  The birth of Jesus means that God was born in a specific person in a specific place.  The Christmas story affirms to us that God is here, that the Messiah for whom we had waited has come, that we are in God’s hands (and God is in ours).  But the Epiphany story moves it beyond the manger.  And all of a sudden we are part of the story.  We are part of the Incarnation of God, the manifestation of God’s Presence here on our little earth.  The God in whose hands we rest danced into our very lives and is now all over our hands.  It is our move.  God was not just born into the child Jesus; God is born into us, into humanity.  And the world really hasn’t changed.  I don’t know. Maybe it never will. But we have.  Our music is the same; but it sounds different to us.  Because, it’s up to us.  Christ’s coming means that we need to get going.  We are called to change the world.

When the song of the angel is stilled,
When the star in the sky is gone, 
When the kings and princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flock,
The work of Christmas begins:
     
To find the lost,
     To heal the broken,
     To feed the hungry,
     To release the prisoner,
     To rebuild the nations,
     To bring peace among brothers and sisters,
     To make music in the heart.
                                                               
(Howard Thurman)

I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year, ‘Give me a light that I might go safely out into the darkness.’ And he replied, ‘Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the hand of God.  That shall be more to you than a light, and safer than a known way.’ (M.L. Haskins)

Happy New Year!

Shelli