Christmas 2

Christmas 2A, 2019

On a Sunday that brings us wise men in search, it seems appropriate to begin with a lost poem found, “Noel,” one of two previously unseen poems by J. R. R. Tolkien, discovered in a 1936 school annual in England.

Grim was the world and grey last night:

The moon and stars were fled,

The hall was dark without song or light,

The fires were fallen dead.

The wind in the trees was like to the sea,

And over the mountains’ teeth

It whistled bitter-cold and free,

As a sword leapt from its sheath.

The lord of snows upreared his head;

His mantle long and pale

Upon the bitter blast was spread

And hung o’er hill and dale.

The world was blind, the boughs were bent,

All ways and paths were wild:

Then the veil of cloud apart was rent,

And here was born a Child.

The ancient dome of heaven sheer

Was pricked with distant light;

A star came shining white and clear

Alone above the night.

In the dale of dark in that hour of birth

One voice on a sudden sang:

Then all the bells in Heaven and Earth

Together at midnight rang.

Mary sang in this world below:

They heard her song arise

O’er mist and over mountain snow

To the walls of Paradise,

And the tongue of many bells was stirred

in Heaven’s towers to ring

When the voice of mortal maid was heard,

That was mother of Heaven’s King.

Glad is the world and fair this night

With stars about its head,

And the hall is filled with laughter and light,

And fires are burning red.

The bells of Paradise now ring

With bells of Christendom,

And Gloria, Gloria we will sing

That God on earth is come.

To this grim and gray earth, God on earth is come. God on earth is come. To this place and this time. God on earth is come. 

And, here we are...

Holding up light to the grim and the gray. 

Looking for light along the way. 

Here we are.

Come from all corners of creation. Come to worship, come to praise. 

Come to proclaim in the midst of all that is ALL, ALL that might be!

And, the war hawks ride on the currents of fires. 

And, kings, despots, and demoniacs rattle sabers while the babe sleeps.

And, hatred is typed and evil is cast and the powers that be cling tight to their rule. 

And, and, and...

We gather still. 

We gather to proclaim that God has come. We gather to proclaim that love will prevail. We gather. 

The holy I Am has gathered us in,

“Hear the word of the Lord, O nations, and declare it in the coastlands far away; say, "He who scattered Israel will gather him, and will keep him as a shepherd a flock."’

Gathered for a purpose, gathered from all corners, gathered...

To offer our praise to a king whose rule is of love. A Lord whose purpose is perfection, perfection of being within a paradise for all, “today you will be with me in paradise”.

You. You will be with me. 

No matter where, no matter how, you will be with me.

Kings from the East, of all races and nations.

Paupers and peasants from fields and ghettoes. 

You will be with me. 

And the Gospel is proclaimed. The good news is made known. 

And the mighty stumble, and demagogues quake. 

Quake at the news that the truth has been made known. 

The truth, that the world is too dangerous for anything but truth, and too small for anything but love. 

So, we tell the truth in love. 

The truth that Christ is born, and true worship is given to a better ruler, a greater king, to one for whom there is no precedent or antecedent other than the hope of all creation. 

In the Gospel of Matthew, the Gospel we will hear the bulk of this year in our Sunday liturgies, we begin by hearing the who and how of Jesus’ identity. His birth and the foreshadowing of his destiny.

In Matthew’s telling, we are invited to connect Jesus’ birth with the promise of God’s ongoing intervention in the liberation of God’s people. Matthew begins with phrasing that harkens back to Genesis at the beginning of the Gospel. He offers us a genealogy that firmly sets Jesus as an heir of David and sets Mary, his mother’s, conception amongst other scriptural narratives in which women have given birth under unusual circumstances. 

But, not only does Matthew use the law and the prophets of Judaism to reinforce the who and hence of this child, he incorporates the Gentiles.

And, this, this is where, and when, the wise men come in. Foreign dignitaries carrying the gold, frankincense and myrrh—gifts fit for a king, gifts fit for the grave. The symbolism of that which they carry, borrows from the tension between life and death, war and peace. This is a baby who a king wishes dead. This is a king who will conquer even death. 

These gift giving men are astronomers come from afar—afar, in this case, most likely being the region, we now call Iran. A detail important to note in times like these. 

They are outsiders to Jewish culture and custom, and the wise men’s presence at the side of the child born king is a pointed display of the expansiveness of Jesus’ ministry. Jesus won’t merely be the king of the Jews, he will be the king of creation. This birth and this child will become a unitive force between the Jews and the Gentiles and, in this, his influence will extend far beyond the limits of cultural, religious and political boundaries.  

This child is the heir of David and he has inherited the full weight of prophecy. This is the one who will “bring forth justice to the nations”. 

This vulnerable child lies at the center of a complex web of political, religious, and military resistance to oppression.  

And, so the wise men who have searched, who have followed the star in its rising, become allies to this new creation. In confusing the trail, in returning home by another way, the wise men defy the powers that be—and work in accordance with God’s will, to shelter a child. A child whose life represents the fullness of God’s love. By defying the powers that be, the wise men amplify the power of God love in this world. A power made known in the fragility of breath, and flesh, of a child born. 

As I shared in this past week’s e+Chimes, I’ve been praying this passage all week. Exploring the question of what it means that outsiders to the Jewish community, in this case the wise men, become allies in protecting a Jewish child from discovery and death. 

And, this has led me to a place of deep prayer and consideration. How will I protect those in danger from the power of evil in this world? How will I show up as a light bringer to those whose lives have been shadowed by threats of violence and histories of hate? 

How? In this grim and grey world, where people are quick to anger and swift to revenge...How will I?

But, it is not just me, it is we...so,

How will we spread the light?

How will we find the way?

Another way.

A way towards peace. A way towards non-violence. A way towards justice. A way towards mercy.

A way towards our God...

God, whose love endures in this grim and grey world. God, whose love shows up even as fires rage and despots howl. God, whose love offers us another way. 

Another way if we are willing to take it. A way born of hope, born of faith, born of trust—trust in a baby whose birth defies all hate and whose life proclaims all love.

And Gloria, Gloria we will sing

That God on earth is come.

Amen.