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

Sunday, December 29, 2019

12.29.19 "The Story Goes On," El Monte Community Presbyterian Church

Psalm 148; Matthew 2.13-23


In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.
Grace, mercy and peace.
Faith, hope and love.

All that is good.
All that is right.
All that is pure and ever so kind.

The story goes on.

Christmas is behind us.
But God is ahead of us.

Always another day, another moment in time.
Another chance to do it right.
To share some love.
To build up someone in need of encouragement.

Jesus is always ahead of us … on the road to hope.
Because the story goes on.

There is no end to the love of God.

I am with you always.
I will never leave you or forsake you.
I am your God and your are my people.

The Psalmist reminds us of the power of praise.
To give thanks for God’s goodness.
I know this for sure:
Praise cures a weary heart.

It’s easy to get bogged down.
It’s easy to let things bother us.
It’s easy to get lost in worries and cares.

And sometimes worry is ok.
Sometime care is important.

There’s a lot of stuff that needs doing.
Stuff that deserves our attention.
Yes, and our worry, too.
And all the care we can muster.

And that’s our reading from Matthew.

In the middle of the story.
When Christ is born.
Angels sing.
Shepherds appear.
Wisemen from afar.

And then the dream.
In the middle of the story.
In the middle of the night.

All is not well.
All is not right.

There is evil afoot.
There is Herod.
Jealous and mean-spirited.

A man puffed up with himself.
A man of lies and deceit.

Dressed in the robes of a king.
A vassal of Rome.
Filled with hatred.

Get outta here, says the angel in the dream.
Go to Egypt; stay there until I tell you otherwise.
Because Herod is out to kill the child.


And in the middle of the night.
In the middle of the story.
Mary and Joseph and the child run for their lives.

Refugees!
Fleeing an evil ruler.
Refugees!
Leaving everything behind.
In the middle of night.
Refugees!
Running to Egypt.

Can you imagine the terror in their hearts?
Can you see, in your mind’s eye, the fear in their faces?
I wonder what they said to one another.

More than 400 miles.
Did they have a donkey?
Or was it by foot.
More than 400 miles.
In the middle of the story.

Flight.
Fear.
Trembling.
Trouble.
Sorrow.
Sadness.

In the middle of the night.
In the middle of the story.

And the story goes on.

It always does.
It always will.

There came a time when Herod died.
And the angel paid them another visit.
You can return now.
The one seeking the child’s life is dead.

And so Mary and Joseph and the child leave Egypt behind.
To return home.
But even then, all is not well.
Herod’s son was on the throne.
Judea was his domain.
And they were afraid.

And with another dream.
God calls them to Galilee.
To Nazareth.
Far away from Herod.
But far away, too, from family and friends.
They’re still refugees.
Now trying to build a home for themselves.
Far away from Bethlehem.
And there they created a home for their child.
Joseph the carpenter.

And there in Nazareth the boy grew up.
To become whom we now know as our LORD and our Savior.

And the story goes on.

God still at work in our world.
The sun rises and shines.
The sun sets and the stars appear.
We love and we hope.
We live and we grow.

The story goes on.

There is always a Herod somewhere.
A man of lies and deceit.
A man full of vanity and violence.

Evil prowls the world with its wars and rumors of wars.
Evil still seeks to kill the Christ.

But angels still sing.
And shepherds still leave their flocks to find the child.
Wisemen still follow the star.

The story goes on.

And here we are today.

We’re a part of the story.
And the story is who we are.

Every hymn sung.
Every prayer offered.
Every kindly word and every helping hand.

In this place, right now.
With all that’s been.
And all that shall be.

Grace, mercy and peace.
Faith hope and love.
In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

Amen!


Sunday, January 6, 2019

"They Saw the Child" - El Monte Community Presbyterian Church

Matthew 2.1-12

When you live in a city, like LA, it’s hard to see the stars. 

I used to live in Northern Wisconsin, in the middle of nowhere, but we could see stars … especially on cold winter nights, when the air is clear, really clear … things get clear when it’s 30 below … 

I remember driving out to make a pastoral call … they lived in a small, patchwork house, on a small peninsula, jutting out into one of the great northern lakes … all was ice and snow … and 20 below, maybe colder … but that never stopped anyone in that part of the world.

So, there I was, driving along, not a car on the road … surrounded by stars … sharp and clear, pinpoints of light in a vast velvet-black sky … so close to me, it seemed … I could have reached out and grabbed a handful of stars …

I’ve never forgotten that night …

Some years later, we were living in Detroit, when the lights when out … all over the North East, 2003, the Great Blackout … by the second night, we had neighbors over on our patio … I fired up the gas grill, and we did chicken and steak and pork chops, and everything we could, because we knew the electricity was going to be down for awhile, so grill up the meat, so it doesn’t spoil.

And there we sat, with flash lights, a few gas lamps … after eating, we turned off our lights … and there it was … the rich and beautiful night sky … velvet black, and full of stars … 

A sight never seen in cities …

We have to get out into the country, into the mountains, away from the city, to see the sky at night …

I wonder how many children in years past, laying on their backs in a field at night, scanning the sky, catching a shooting star now and then … dreaming of the universe, vast and mysterious … dreaming of space ships and far-away planets … maybe thinking about God … how big God must be, and how small we are … children laying on their backs in a field of summer grass… a warm night in August … to watch the stars and dream of faraway places.

We three kings of Orient are
Bearing gifts we traverse afar.
Field and fountain, moor and mountain,
Following yonder star.

Or maybe:

Twinkle, twinkle, little star
How I wonder what you are
Up above the world so high
Like a diamond in the sky
Twinkle, twinkle little star
How I wonder what you are.

Or even:

When you wish upon a star
Makes no difference who you are
Anything your heart desires will come to you

And, then, again:

Star light, star bright,
First star I see tonight,
I wish I may, I wish I might,
Have this wish I wish tonight.

It’s Epiphany Sunday … 
The visit of the magi … wise men from the East … astrologers they are, fascinated by the heavens above, vast and beyond count … the stars at night, new moon, old moon … the rising of the sun and its setting … the turning of the seasons … a story to tell … 

The alignment of the stars, a star of peculiar brightness, a star dominating the western sky …  “What’s this?” they ask! … and with their charts unrolled and with their books opened wide, a discovery is made … the star, so bright and clear, the herald of a birth, and not just any birth, but the birth of a king …

So unusual was it all … their curiosity got the best of them, and so begins their quest, a journey, an adventure … weeks, maybe months … traveling afar … to see where the star would take them … and perhaps to find the king … 

Two thousands years later, here we are … telling and retelling the stories of our faith … each in our own way, wise men, wise women, wise children … paying attention to the world God created, the sky above, the earth beneath and the Holy Spirit within …

And still the star shines … the glories of the heavens declare the glory of God … 

Faith, hope and love … grace, mercy and peace … 
The star still shines, bright and clear …

And like those magi of old, we’re the magi now.

Still and always the journey, setting out to discover the king born in Bethlehem … with our gifts, whatever they are … we lay them down before the cradle and before the child it holds …

The Christian Life is always one of journey … 
We never fully arrive … never! … because God is infinite, and whatever we learn of God today, there’s still more to learn tomorrow … whatever good we manage, whatever we truth we tell, whatever deed of kindness we offer, whatever power we challenge, there’s always more to be done … the endless journey is what it means to be faithful to Christ.

Back in seminary, my Hebrew professor, a wise and learnèd man … he’d come bouncing into the classroom, a smile on his face from ear-to-ear … to announce that just that morning, he had learned something new … usually something small … in a footnote, or some obscure Hebrew dictionary … with joy and delight, he’d tell us all about it.

We came to call him, “The Student” … the one always learning, and delighted to learn … encouraging us to learn, and keep on learning … to be students always of God’s Word, always exploring, always going to new places, never afraid to cross a boundary, into unexplored land … never, ever, afraid of making a mistake … in the Kingdom of God, in the quest of truth, there are no mistakes, only lessons to be learned … 

God is a God of great mercy, and above all else, God is the Teacher … God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit … to teach of us life, to teach us love … to teach us how to care for the world God made …

Like any good teacher anywhere, it’s not about the answers, but the learning, the questions, the pondering, the musing … among all the confessions of faith any of us can make, there is one confession that cuts to the core of our journey, that says it well, with humility, honesty and hope: LORD, I believe, help my unbelief.

God takes pleasure in those who want to learn about God’s world … the heavens above, the oceans upon the face of the earth, the creatures, great and small … times long before we were here …

As for creation, it’s just plain silly to suggest that the earth was created 8000 thousand years ago or something like … no, it was created billions of years ago … long before any of us showed up: dinosaurs roamed the earth, for millions of years … until something emerged out of a pool of muck, rich with life … and it grew, and it grew … tens of thousands of years … and here we are today, from the earth we have come, by the hand of God, and still the creation goes on … it never stops … always changing … and now we have to pay attention to something brand new in our story: the impact we’re having on the earth … global warming, climate change, pollution, filth, driven by the blind greed of those who always want more for themselves, and will take it from everyone else … who are always drawing boundaries, and building walls … who love to say some, “you don’t belong here,” “we don’t want you,” “go back to where you came from.”

For those who follow Christ, it must be different: no boundaries, never a wall, and no exclusion … we all belong to one another because we’re all created by God … and to one another we owe the debt of love … to be kind and merciful, to make room for the lonely, heal the broken, clothe the naked, feed the hungry, provide for the homeless, visit those in prison.

What might the magi say to us?

Pay attention to the stars … the world God created, the birds and the bees … flowers and field … the sun above and the earth beneath … all of its creatures, great and small. As Jesus said: Consider the birds of the air … and the lilies of the field!

What might the magi say to us?

If you follow the star, you’ll have to travel afar … the journey never ends … keep on keepin’ on.

And don’t be fooled by Herod, they’d say to us …

Herod welcomed the wise men; sent them on their way with a task, to find the child, and then let Herod know where the child is, so that Herod could go and “worship him”, too. 
It was a lie, fake news, nonsense … 

Beware of Herod, they’d say to us:
Herod the fox, Herod the liar, Herod the con-man, loud and reckless, Herod the man of violence …

When the magi found the child, and laid their gifts before him, the Spirit warned them: go home by another route … 

I like that image: another route … we never cover the same ground again … time does that to us … so the journey goes on.

What might the magi say to us?

“Pay Attention” to places like Bethlehem … small places, out-of-the-way places … people of low-account … a young pregnant girl, a father doing his best … pawns in the power-plays of the nations … late at night, alone and frightened … a kindly inn keeper, with no room in the inn, finds a little room for them outback … with the animals, warm and safe … where God is born … born into the world, then … and born into the world today … the Bethlehems of our world … little places, places of no-account … the least of all places … but that’s where God is born!

Though I’m not a magi, this much I can say:

God is born right here … maybe in the corner over there, or in the kitchen … in our hearts, for sure …  small places, out-of-the-way places … God likes places just like this … and God loves people just like you.


Amen and Amen!

Sunday, December 19, 2010

December 19, 2010 - "Joshua Is His Name"

Matthew 1:18-25


Joshua fit the battle of Jericho …
With trumpets a-blaring for six days …
And on the seventh day, with one loud long blast of the trumpets and a mighty shout of the people, the walls came tumbling down.
Joshua fit the battle of Jericho.
And with sword and shield, fought his way across Canaan, to make a home for the people of God …

Joshua is a Hebrew name, and its means, Yahweh will save.
Translated into Greek?
Iesous … Jesus.

Born of Mary.
In a tiny stable in a tiny town in a tiny country under the iron rule of Rome and the tyranny of King Herod, who would brook no threat to his throne.

When Herod gets wind of a possible claimant to his title, a child born in Bethlehem, Herod unleashes a brutal attack and kills all the children two and under in and around Bethlehem.

Mary and Joseph and Jesus, warned in a dream, hightail it out of there to Egypt, and there they stay, until Herod dies.

And only then do they return, but not Bethlehem … that’s too close to Herod’s kin … so they go to Galilee instead, and in Galilee Jesus is raised …
Of his upbringing, we know nothing …

Luke reports an incident in the temple when Jesus is 12 … but other than that, silence.

Until his 30th birthday or thereabouts … when a rabbi is old enough to begin teaching.
Jesus travels south to the Jordan, just above the Dead Sea, and is confirmed by John the Baptist in the rite of washing, the rite of baptism.
And a voice from heaven: This is my beloved son, with whom I am well pleased.

By water and by word …
Jesus, Son of God.
God with us.

Joshua is his name.
Yahweh will save!

What does it mean to be saved?

For a long time, Christians were taught that being saved means going to heaven when we die.
And before we die, to live a righteous life.
And for most American Christians, the righteous life has been defined by frontier preachers from the early part of the 1800s … Kentucky and Tennessee … with their emphasis upon the sins they saw: drinking, smoking, cussing, card-playing and theater-attendance.
These frontier preachers saw families being ripped apart and social coherence unraveling on the rough and wooly frontier.
Baptists and Methodists and a few Presbyterians crossed the Appalachians and headed west into America’s frontier, preaching the gospel and planting churches.
They held giant camp meetings, lasting days on end.
Folks traveled from afar to gather together and learn of Christ.
Those were hard days, and people were desperate for hope and meaning and the consolation of God’s love.
Infant mortality rates were high, and if anyone made it to their 10th birthday, life expectancy was just under 60.
Women died in childbirth.
Men were killed on the farm.
People needed the gospel.

The revivals were intense.
The frontier preachers used lurid images of hellfire and brimstone, and folks responded with emotional outpourings and dramatic signs … probably baptized in a nearby river, swearing off the sins of the day, and promising to live a better life … with an eye on heaven – pearly gates and golden streets, and mansions in the sky.

What does it mean to be saved?

Life for us these days is considerably easier than it was on the frontier.
And no one seems to be particularly bothered by anything, and we’re not likely to mention sin.
American Christians are not likely to hear much hellfire and brimstone these days.
If we’re evangelical Christians, we’re likely to hear a good many therapeutic sermons dealing with anxiety, fear, addictions and sermons about success and achievement and goal-setting and marriage and family.
If we’re mainline Christians, we’re likely to hear sermons about justice and social responsibility … and the big issues of poverty and health care and war.
If we’re conservative Christians, we’re likely to hear doctrinal sermons … such things as substitutionary atonement, original sin, the two-fold nature of Christ, the inspiration of Scripture, the trinity and sanctification and justification and predestination.

So, what does it mean to be saved?

It means a lot of things.
Because God is very big, and so is the world.
And the needs are enormous.
Clean water for the world and healthy souls and fair wages and loving homes where children are safe and good schools and the pursuit of peace and protection for endangered species and feeding the hungry and clothing the poor and preaching the gospel and teaching what Jesus teaches and loving one another and giving ourselves away and singing and praying and bagging groceries at the LAX Food Pantry and serving rice and beans at the Catholic Workers’ Soup Kitchen downtown … it means quite moments with Jesus, it means tons of Bible study and lots of fellowship dinners and committee meetings and hymnbooks and choirs and baptism and the LORD's Supper and preaching and repentance and sorrow and gladness and praise and laughter in the joy of the LORD and tears for the passion of it all

What does it mean to be saved?
It means a lot of things.
Because God is really big.
And the needs of the world are huge.

For God so loved the world, that’s why God gives us the Son.
For the sake of the world.

And for whatever reason, known but to God, the Holy Spirit has moved in our lives, and makes it possible for us to be a part of Jesus Christ, and for Christ to be the anchor of our soul.
He is the first and he is the last, the Alpha and the Omega.
The reality greater than everything else.
Our all-in-all.

To him we belong, now and forever more.
In life and in death.
In body and in soul.
In such a way that not a hair can fall from our heads without our Father’s will … because God is at work in all things for good … and we are ambassadors of God’s love to the world.

What does it mean to be saved?

It means a lot of things.
With Jesus Christ at the center.
His words and his life.
His cross and his death.
His tomb and his resurrection.
His ascension to the right hand of God, and the sending of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost Day.

What does it mean to be saved?

It means to be rescued.
Rescued from ourselves.
From out little tiny worlds.
From upside values.
Vengeance and jealousy and foolish pride and the love of money and violence and greed and graft and the abuse of people for our own pleasure and needs.

God rescues us from the darkness of our own shadow.
From our relentless self-interest.
From our feeble attempts to put ourselves on the throne of our soul …

God takes us out of the darkness and brings us into the kingdom of light.
God restores our spiritual orientation.
And gives us the LORD's Prayer … Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name … not my name, nor the million names of any given moment … but your name be hallowed, O God … your name, and your name alone!

What does it mean to be saved?
It means a million things.

It’s deeply emotional and its profoundly intellectual and tearful and joyful and transformational.

What does it mean to be saved?

It is whatever it is for any of us, in the characteristics of our life …
Salvation is tailor-made for each of us.
Salvation is one thing for my wife and one thing for me and one thing for my children …
It means something slightly different for Presbyterians and Lutherans and Pentecostals and Roman Catholics and Greek Orthodox … for a small congregation in Nebraska and a megachurch in Nashville … for folks in Haiti and folks in Marin County … for farmers in Central America and engineers in the aerospace industry … for Christians who live in a culture where Christianity is dominant and for Christians who live in cultures shaped by other religious traditions.

What does it mean to be saved?

I think there are some bottom-line realities for all us.

To be saved is to gather together for worship.
Because there is strength in the company of fellow-believers.
Jesus never calls us by ourselves, but calls us into fellowship with one another.
To love one another as he loves us.

We study the Bible.
It’s our book.
We’re people of the book.
Genesis and Exodus, and Jeremiah and Hosea and the Gospel according to Matthew and Paul’s letter to the Romans and the Letter of James and the wonderful book of Revelation.

We serve … we put our faith into action … so the world can see our faith.
We make a difference.
We strive for justice and for peace.
Because this is our Father’s world … and we cannot rest if there’s but one lost sheep … one lost coin … or one lost soul.

We confess our sins with confidence in the forgiveness of God.
We’re humble in our achievements, for everything is a gift from the hand of God.
We’re merciful toward one another, for all of us have weakness and sadness and dark materials.

Salvation in all of its glory, works its way through each of us, just as we are.
Some of us are deeply moved by theology.
Some of us love to study.
Some of us are gifted with putting our faith into words.
Some of us are motivated by mission trips and the hard work of Habitat for Humanity.
Some of us spend a lot of time on our knees.
Some of us spend a lot of time in picket lines and social action.

When I lived in Michigan, a friend and I would travel once a year to the Abbey of Gethsemane in Kentucky, the abbey where Thomas Merton did his work.
It’s Trappist Monastery, a place of deep silence, 150 years old, filled with the prayers of the monks over the decades … the chanted psalms and the hymns and meditation and reading and thinking and good cheese and incredible bourbon fudge.
The day begins at 3:00 in the morning, and as the rest of the world sleeps, the monks are in prayer, for it’s in the night that the world faces its greatest danger.
These monks are called by God – for a life of prayer and chanting the Psalms …

Some are called to a life of writing …
Some are called to be evangelists …
Some are sent to the mission field.
Some are called to preach.
Some are called to sing … to teach Sunday School … to be elders and deacons.

Because the world is huge with many needs.
And God sees to it that salvation in each of our lives meets a need somewhere in this world.

And wherever we are, in the classroom or the lab, behind a desk or behind a wheel, we are called to be the salt of the earth and the light of the world.

To let our light so shine that others will see our good works and give glory to our Father in heaven.

And in the center of it all?
Jesus, born of Mary, suffering under Pontius Pilate, crucified, dead and buried and raised on the third day and ascended into heaven, at the right hand of God, from then he shall come again to judge the living and the dead.

It is he, this Jesus, who leads us into the Promised Land and gives us life.
Who leads with a sword, not of steel, but of grace.
Who takes down walls – not of brick and stone, but the walls of prejudice and hatred and fear.
Who conquers, not with might and force, but with love and mercy and forgiveness and the giving away of his life for all the world.

And his name is Joshua.
His name is Jesus.

Our LORD and our Savior.

Amen and amen!