Message Archive

1 Samuel 16:1-13, Psalm 23; Ephesians 5:8-14; John 9:1-41

 

“There remains yet the youngest, but he is keeping the sheep.”

 

These are days of blurred expectations, days of fear of the unknown, days when all of our worldly wisdom and medical technology are confounded and excessively overstretched.  We are brought to our knees in our search for God’s guidance, our need to see what is ahead.

Perhaps, then, we can better relate to Samuel’s plight.  Samuel, the great seer, the last of the judges of Israel, was called by the LORD to orchestrate the transition for Israel from a nation ruled by judges to a nation ruled by kings.  Saul had been Israel’s first king, but that kingship had gone awry.  Now, Samuel was instructed by the LORD to fill his horn with oil and set out to the home of Jesse, the Bethlehemite.  From the sons of Jesse would come the next king of Israel as God anointed.

Samuel was afraid.  The angry and deranged Saul continued to threaten.  But, Samuel trusted God, and God provided for Samuel’s safety.

Samuel was bewildered.  Upon arrival at the home of Jesse, not one among the magnificent parade of handsome and robust sons had evoked God’s approval.  Samuel was the prophet of the LORD; Samuel was the renown seer amongst God’s people; yet, Samuel, we could imagine, was weary and at the point of panic.  In his frustration, Samuel asks, “Are all your sons here?”  Jesse responds downheartedly, “There remains yet the youngest, but he is keeping the sheep.”  Thus, David, the shepherd, the youngest of this host of brothers so handsome and mighty in stature, was summoned from the flock and anointed king over Israel.  We read that the spirit of the LORD came mightily upon him from that day forward.  Indeed, David would go on to become the greatest of the earthly kings over Israel.

How amazing are the ways of the LORD!   Samuel was amazed by the ways of the LORD.  The great prophet Samuel, at his well-seasoned age and in his divinely inspired wisdom was yet again to be surprised and amazed by the ways of the LORD.  Once again, Samuel, the seer, is reminded to leave the “seeing” to God.  For those willing to see, the ways of the LORD continue to amaze.

Fear, bewilderment, and amazement are themes as well of our Gospel lesson from John.

“Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”  Religious tradition held that physical handicap was a direct result of sinfulness.  The Pharisees, and even the disciples themselves, were spiritually blinded by this misconception that this man’s physical blindness was God’s punishment for sin.  Amazed by Jesus’ actions that healed the man’s lifelong physical blindness and disconcerted by Jesus’ self-identification as the Son of Man, the Pharisees were struck with fear.  Their sinfulness, their lack of faith, their misdirected zeal for God’s Law rendered them blind to the presence of the Anointed One.  Were they to submit themselves to Jesus’ healing touch, were they to follow Jesus’ call to wash the mud from their eyes and hearts, they too could have been released from their prison of blindness.

Yet, somewhat like Samuel, the ability of the Pharisees to SEE as God sees, was clouded by human misconception.  But yet, unlike Samuel who persevered through fear and bewilderment to experience seeing as God sees, the Pharisees remained blinded by fear and self-importance, their amazement in Jesus’ presence forcing them deeper and deeper into bewildering darkness.  They could see only as mortals see.  Jesus said, “I came into this world for judgment so that those who do not see may see, and those who do see may become blind.”

For the Lord does not see as mortals see.

In this time of great fear and bewilderment, God is with us, seeing us through in unexpected and amazing ways. One of God’s ways of assuring us of his presence is offered by Presiding Bishop Curry in his new weekly meditation series. Here, we find his suggestion to cultivate “habits of grace.”  As illustration, he describes the scene that is playing out throughout Italy:

One of the things that I’m aware of is that consistent habits, what some have called habits of grace, can really be helpful especially in unsettling times.  I was watching television and saw where in Milan and throughout Italy apparently, a movement has begun. . . . at six o’clock every evening everyone who is in their apartment is socializing by coming out on the porch and at six o’clock they begin to applaud.  They just start clapping.  And everyone claps and applauds as a way of saying thank you to the medical folk who are working, the first responders who are working.  Just a way of saying thank you.  And then the applause moves into or morphs into a song.  And they sometimes sing their national anthem or sing some other song, every day at six.  A habit of grace.

As we are cautioned to keep physically separate from one another, let us draw closer to God and, thus, closer to one another in Christ.  God is tending his sheep; his rod and his staff are comforting us through the valley of the shadow of death.  God, in his unbounded mercy, will turn the blindness of our fear and bewilderment into amazing sight.  Let’s keep our eyes and hearts open.

Genesis 12:1-4a Romans 4:1-5, 13-17 John 3:1-17 Psalm 121

The Lord himself watches over you; [Psalm 121:5a]

The Lord shall watch over your going out and your coming in,
from this time forth for evermore.  [ Psalm 121:8]

Do you believe these words of the psalmist?  Do you truly believe that the Lord himself watches over you?

And, if you believe that the Lord continuously watches over your going out and your coming in [in other words – all that you do], is this continuous watchfulness by God an effort to find fault?  Does it well up the sense of panic such as you might feel when a policeman is following you for a long period of time in traffic?   I’ve never forgotten meal management classes in college when an assigned observer was counting every footstep, noting any cabinet doors left open, analyzing every minute detail of proper or improper handwashing.  This sense of continuous oversight tends to set off all the paranoia alarm bells in us.

Is this God’s intention for watching over us?  Or, does God watch over our going out and coming in as a loving parent seeks to provide and protect beloved children?

Just this week, more than once, I’ve had a conversation about the difficulty of accepting, fully and deeply within our souls, that God loves us.  When we encounter an irrational sense of self-defeatism within ourselves and in others, I believe we are encountering someone who cannot accept fully that he or she is loved by God – God, who watches over our going out and coming in, not because God seeks to punish us for our wrongdoings, but because God loves us with perfect unconditional love and wants to embrace and protect us – God, who seeks to guide us toward the path of peace inwardly in our own hearts and outwardly with our neighbor.

Did Nicodemus, of our Gospel lesson, understand that he was loved by God?  Nicodemus was a man steeped in religious ritual.  As a Pharisee, he would have spent day after day, from the time of his youth, being educated in the Torah, memorizing the prophecy, debating the hundreds of laws that had been crafted by his ancestors in their sincere and fervent effort to be faithful as God’s chosen people.  Recorded in Leviticus are more than 600 laws regarding the proper procedures for Temple sacrifice, the intricate guidelines for the priesthood, specifics of ceremonial purity and personal holiness.  Here, every aspect of daily life is legally bound by religious law – marriage, daily activity, work, acceptable foods – how to prepare them and when they can be eaten – on and on.  Nicodemus would have spent his life consumed with this checklist of systematic requirements of this legalistic God who demanded to be obeyed – a god who dealt harshly with offenders.

Paul, like Nicodemus is a descendent of Abraham, and like Nicodemus, had been steeped from early age in the intricacies of Levitical law.  Yet, by virtue of his dramatic conversion to faith in Jesus Christ, Paul writes to the Romans, reminding the Romans that he and they are not justified because they are biological descendants of Abraham or through any checklist of earthly works performed out of fear of punishment by a wrath-filled God.  Abraham himself was not justified by his earthly works; Abraham was justified by grace through faith.  Along with the Romans to whom Paul was writing, we are justified through the grace of Jesus Christ.

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.  [John 3:16] How many times have you heard that?  John 3:16 – How many times have you seen it on bumper stickers, and football helmets, and T-shirts?  What does it mean to you?

“Love” is a frivolously-used and under-understood word in our common English discourse.  And, until we can fully embrace its true meaning, until we can fully embrace for ourselves the unconditional love of God, we cannot truly embrace love from any source.  John 3:16, as familiar as it is, is simply a cliché that resides on the surface of our flesh, pretty words that fail to penetrate the darkness of our hearts.

Nicodemus came to Jesus in the dark of night, apprehensive and fearful of the backlash from fellow religious leaders if he were to be discovered seeking Jesus’ counsel.  Jesus was already considered a nuisance; his recent cleansing of the Temple had established him as a true threat to religious and political leaders.

Nicodemus came to Jesus in the darkness of his own perplexity – disturbed by inner turmoil, confused by what seemed to be contradictions to the foundations of his life-long faith journey, fearful of the future impact of the truth of Jesus’ radical message.  Believing John 3:16 and proclaiming among the public of first century Jerusalem that this Jesus of Nazareth was the Messiah who would bring eternal life, not just to an elite population, but to any and all who believed, would alter his life forever.  In the darkness, Nicodemus was frightened and mystified and conflicted.

But, Nicodemus did come to believe, and Nicodemus did proclaim this love beyond human understanding – this love that brings about our salvation, purely as the gift of God’s grace through our faith in Jesus Christ.  While nearly all of Jesus’ followers would flee in fear at the crucifixion, it would be Nicodemus, joined by Joseph of Arimathea, waiting at the foot of the cross, who would boldly receive Jesus’ broken body from the cross and reverently and lovingly anoint Jesus’ body in preparation for burial according to the Jewish customs into which they had been steeped.

Throughout Lent, our fraction anthem is the Agnus Dei – Lamb of God, you take away the sin of the world.  Have mercy on us; grant us your peace.

Certainly, our Christian mission is to confront the sin and evil of the world.  But, surely, the first step in our mission to search out and confront the sinfulness of the world, is to convince ourselves and our neighbors of the words of John 3:16.  Surely, our greatest mission is to bless someone every day, whether friend or stranger, with the understanding that he or she is loved by God – loved by God, who forever watches over our going out and our coming in, before we wake in the morning, after we drift off to sleep every night, not because God seeks to punish us, but to guide us toward the path of peace that passes human understanding.

For God so loves each and every one of us, that he has assured our place with him in his kingdom for all eternity.  Even in our brokenness and sinfulness, God wants us present with him forever.  For God so loved the world.

Genesis 2:15-17; 3:1-7 Romans 5:12-19 Matthew 4:1-11 Psalm 32

Our lessons this morning from the book of Genesis and the Gospel of Matthew bring us two accounts of temptation – two accounts of temptation with dramatically different outcomes – outcomes that, in turn, have dramatic impact on our lives as God’s children.  Our epistle lesson from Paul’s letter to the Romans connects these two accounts and their dramatic impact.

First, the lesson from Genesis describes for us what has come to be known as The Fall.  Sometime after God created humankind, he placed Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden; Eden is a name significant in the Hebrew language of Genesis meaning “delight” and “luxury.”  Here, as we translate from the Hebrew, man was to “serve” and “keep” the garden – the garden being a place to “rest, settle down, and remain.”[1]  Even today, we have these connotations of the Garden of Eden – a place to rest and remain in the delight of God’s will – a paradise.

Our Genesis account of the Fall from the Garden of Eden is a familiar story: the serpent redirected Eve to think of God as tyrannical and disingenuous in his command that she and Adam were not to eat of the fruit from the tree in the middle of the garden, death being the consequence.  The serpent tempted Eve to assert her own privilege of making decisions.  Why should she and Adam not eat the fruit of this one particular tree?  Why should humankind be denied the ability to choose freely and be enlightened to the ways of the world?  After all, insinuated the serpent, God is only being selfish – maybe God is jealous of humankind’s abilities to make choices for themselves.

Adam and Eve failed to trust God; they alienated themselves from God by thinking of themselves as being equal with God, being able to make their own decisions without God’s guidance, turning from acknowledgement of their dependence on God.

And, so, as the result of human disobedience, sin came into the world.  And, though Adam and Eve are not struck dead immediately, death, too, came into the world; earthly life now had an ending, and this death became something to be feared.  Would humankind ever again return to Eden – “a place to rest, settle down, and remain” – Paradise?

As Paul explains in his letter to the Romans, “Therefore, just as sin came into the world through one man (meaning all of humankind), and death came through sin, and so death spread to all because all have sinned.”  [5:12] Gloom, despair, pain, hardship, agony, toil became part of human life.  BUT, Paul goes on to say in verse 19, “Just as by the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man’s obedience the many will be made righteous.” [5:19] It is the Apostle Paul who puts it into these words that help us understand, bringing us to our Gospel message – the Good News:

Much was at stake in our Gospel account of Jesus’ encounter with another serpent of temptation.  Just prior to this encounter, Jesus had been baptized by John in the Jordan; coming up out of the water, Jesus experienced the Holy Spirit and heard the words from God, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”  [Matthew 3:17b]

Following his baptism and his affirmation as God’s Son, our Gospel lesson tells us that Jesus went into the wilderness for forty days.  Wilderness, for God’s people, is nearly always a place of struggle; and 40 days is symbolic of the time of searching for a closer relationship with God – just as our 40 days of Lent are a time of searching for a closer relationship with God – struggling to practice our faithfulness through the wilderness of our daily lives.

Affirmed at his baptism as the Son of God, Jesus was now confronted with these enormous temptations for power and prestige and protection.  Would Jesus capitalize on this opportunity to be an all-powerful superhuman god, as Adam and Eve had given in to that temptation, or would he throw his lot in with the rest of us humans and willfully suffer the consequences of being human?

As humans, we have free will; from the time of Adam and Eve, God’s earthly creation – the animals and our entire environment have been left in our responsibility by God.  We can charge full-speed ahead, relying on our own resources and instincts as Adam and Eve sought to do, or we can submit ourselves to God’s guidance in seeking to delight in God’s will – seeking to embrace God’s will as our own, praying that we will not be tempted as Adam and Eve were tempted, as Jesus was tempted.

Did God lead Jesus up on the mountain to be tempted?  What do we mean when we pray to God, “Lead us not into temptation”?  Would God lead us into temptation?

First, as we pray this prayer, we are acknowledging God’s ultimate control of the kingdom that is to come.  Secondly, we are acknowledging the reality of temptation, the reality of evil, and the reality of our human frailty in the face of the evil that seeks to lead us astray, particularly when we are weak and vulnerable as Jesus was weak and vulnerable here on the Mount of Temptation.  Thirdly, our prayer is affirmation of our dependence upon God’s armor of strength as we confront temptation face to face, and as we turn and walk away with the renewed strength of the angels.  Without this prayer of affirmation as our mantra, we succumb to our anxieties; we are overcome by temptation; we forfeit the peace and comfort of our increased awareness of God’s providence, and we are weaker still.

Lead us not into temptation; strengthen us with the desire to do your will; and, if we are tempted and fall short, protect us from the evil that seeks to overcome us in our state of weakness; protect us and restore us to your loving guidance.

Jesus was feeling weak and defenseless in this time of profound loneliness and physical emptiness.  Matthew tells us that he was famished.  Would he bow down to Satan, or would he trust God’s providence and worship God alone?

This Lent, our 40 days in the wilderness is the time that we confront our struggle to remain faithful to God alone.  God created Adam and Eve to “till and keep” the Garden.  He calls us to do the same. We may choose to be restored to the Garden where we delight in his will – where we might rest, and settle down, and remain.  It is our choice.

This paradise is God’s wish for us; this has been God’s wish for us from the time he placed Adam and Eve in the Garden of Paradise; this is God’s wish for us for eternity: rest, settle down, remain in the delight of his will.

For these forty days, look with renewed intention to Jesus Christ on this barren and foreboding Mount of Temptation.  With renewed intention, worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.

 

[1] Judy Fentress-Williams, “Genesis 2:15-17; 3:1-7 Exegetical Perspective,” in Feasting on the Word – Year A, Volume 2, eds. David Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, 27-31 (Louisville, Kentucky: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010) 27.

 

Joel 2:1-2,12-17 2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10 Matthew 6:1-6,16-21 103:8-14

Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent – this designated season of penitence, is the day set aside to cover ourselves in sackcloth and ashes, as did the king of Nineveh so many centuries ago.  The king was responding to Jonah’s dire prophecy.  Jonah, fresh from the belly of the whale, warned of destruction that was to come to Nineveh unless the people repented and returned to faithfulness and trust in God, their creator.  And so, we come to kneel in penitence and be marked with the dust of our mortality.

Today is set aside as the day we begin our intentional journey of repentance.  “Let all the inhabitants of the land tremble”, says the prophet Joel, “for the day of the LORD is coming, it is near–.”  Our journey of penitence is a journey into humility.

We humble ourselves before our creator.  Our opening collect is addressed to the “Almighty and everlasting God” our creator, to whom we say “you hate nothing you have made and forgive the sins of all who are penitent.”  In humility, we bask, not in fear or shame, but in the unconditional love of the almighty and everlasting God – our creator, our parent who made us and loves us with a perfect love, and is most eager to forgive our human frailties.

We humble ourselves within this vast universe where we are a tiny pinprick in the night sky; we humble ourselves before the creator of that vast universe – our creator who knew each us even before we were formed in our mother’s womb, the creator who knows the very number of the hairs on our head, the creator who knows our needs even before we are able to articulate those needs in prayer.  We humble ourselves before our creator upon whom we are dependent for the breath we breathe and the peace, beyond our understanding, yet so desired.

We humble ourselves, lamenting our sins and acknowledging our human wretchedness; we humble ourselves before this God of all mercy – the God of perfect remission and forgiveness.   Remission is defined as a cancellation of a debt, charge, or penalty.  We humble ourselves in awe of our God who, through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, has paid in fullness and perfection the debt of our human evil and death, rewarding us with everlasting life.  He asks only that we lay down our baggage and walk away from our clutter that obstructs our path toward forgiving ourselves and accepting his mercy.

We humble ourselves in trust in God.  God’s people of Israel stood on the precipice of the Promised Land, east of the Jordan, after 40 years in the Wilderness.  Here, Moses exhorted them to trust in God as they went forward into the uncertainty that lay beyond the Jordan.  Trust is hard; relinquishing “control” of our lives is hard.  On this day, we commit intentionally to trust God, storing our treasure in heaven where neither moth nor rust consumes, treasure that cannot be stolen unless we throw it away.

We humble ourselves, none worthy, yet worthily, as we come to celebrate our oneness in the Body of Christ – the gift of the grace of salvation.  In Communion with our brothers and sisters in Christ, we receive his Body and Blood, assuring us that we are living members of the Body of Christ and heirs of his eternal kingdom.

We humble ourselves, remembering that we are dust, and to dust we shall return.

Exodus 24:12-18 2 Peter 1:16-21 Matthew 17:1-9 Psalm 99

Jesus was on the mountain with his disciples Peter, John, and James, the three disciples who accompany Jesus as was typical at particularly significant times in Jesus’ ministry.  The presence of these closest disciples alerts us to our own discipleship – our own presence in Jesus’ ministry.  Through the presence of Peter and John and James, we are present; we can relate to their confusion and misinterpretation of this awe-inspiring event in which Jesus, flanked by Moses and Elijah, was transfigured – his face changed, his clothes becoming dazzling white.  Through the earthly human eyes of Peter and John and James, we get a glimpse of the magnificent possibilities for us as disciples of Jesus Christ.

Peter, John, and James were no better equipped to fathom this otherworldly experience than any of us would be.  We would fumble and bumble much like Peter.  However, without doubt, the undivided attention of the disciples was captured; their attention was devoted to listening and observing with great intention.  God was physically present in this place.  And, this was truly, literally a “mountaintop” experience.  So, what is the message we are to gain through the privilege of being present here on the mountaintop with Jesus – and Moses and Elijah?

Peter, John, and James were faithful Jews steeped in the faith of God’s people, trained in the knowledge of their ancient Hebrew heritage.  There are few of higher standing, few who better represent Hebrew tradition than Moses and Elijah; and these three disciples would have no question that the presence of these two holy men there on each side of Jesus was momentous and intentionally significant.

Historically, many centuries earlier, on another mountain, Moses had been the recipient of the Law – straight from the hand of God on Mount Sinai.   With tablets in hand, God sent Moses down from Mount Sinai to deliver God’s Law to the people of Israel in the Wilderness.

And, centuries after Israel’s sojourn in the Wilderness, God’s prophet Elijah, under threat of King Ahab, had challenged the prophets of the pagan god Baal on Mount Carmel; God’s power prevailed over Baal in a bolt of lightning and great rains upon the mountain.  Later, as Elijah fled in fear, God was revealed to Elijah on yet another mountain, Mount Horeb.  In the “still small voice of God” – the sound of sheer silence, God spoke to the great prophet Elijah.  On Mount Horeb, God, speaking in sheer silence instructed Elijah to leave his fears behind and go down from the mountain, to get back to the work to which God had anointed him.  Mountains are significant in the ancient Hebrew history very familiar to Peter, James, and John.

On the mountain we visit in our Gospel lesson, Peter, John, and James, without doubt, knew God was speaking.  The continuity between Jesus and these most significant forebears of their faith – Moses and Elijah – was indisputable.  Slowly, reality began to seep in – Jesus, whom they knew as their earthly leader and teacher, was and is the Messiah foretold by the great prophets of the Hebrew faith.  It would be Jesus who would personify and fulfill God’s mission of redemption for all creation.  Moses, the personification of God’s Law, and Elijah, the personification of the Prophecy, themselves affirm God’s presence in Jesus Christ.

Our lesson tells us that Peter, John, and James were overshadowed by a cloud and from the cloud they heard the words, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!”  Those who had been present for Jesus’ baptism at the very beginning of his ministry had heard these similar words of God’s affirmation of Jesus as the beloved Son of God.  The disciples fell to the ground overcome by fear, until Jesus, restored to his human nature, touched them, instructed them to rise, and assured them that there was no need to be afraid.  Together they descended the mountain.

If we read on in the verses to come, we read that as the four journeyed down from the mountain, they were met by a great crowd, among them a father seeking healing for his convulsive son.  The mission continued; Jesus, after this magnanimous mountaintop experience, came down from the mountain and, without hesitation, was again about the work of the mission to which he had been anointed.

The mountain known as Mt. Tabor was the first site we visited on our pilgrimage after we landed in Tel Aviv and drove northeast toward Galilee through the fertile Jezreel Valley and upward to the summit that has been marked by history as the location of the Transfiguration.  The vista, even through the rainy mist, is magnificent.  A church has rested on the site since the 5^th century; currently, the Basilica of the Transfiguration, maintained by the Franciscans, tops the summit.

Jet-lagged and weary from our overnight flight, I’m not sure any of us pilgrims internalized the awe of the Transfiguration, but there was much awe to come as we confirmed that our mountaintop experiences of awe and inspiration are important to our understanding of our individual callings, callings that would require our coming down from the mountain.  Time and again, with Jesus and Peter and James and John, we all come down from the mountain with greater direction and inspiration to return to our ministry.

As we pilgrims journeyed down from Mount Tabor and further into the landscape most known for Jesus’ birth and ministry, each coming day of our pilgrimage further enforced the overwhelming discomfort and challenge of being among the minority within the minority – the tiny minority of Christians among the minority of non-Jews – the Arab Palestinians.  This small percentage of Israel’s population is the tiny remnant of Jesus’ disciples clinging to the call to mission in this land of ancient and ongoing religious and political conflict.

This phenomenon is never more evident than among the Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent DePaul at an organization known as the Creche in Bethlehem.  The Creche offers safe haven, medical care, and education for dozens of needy, orphaned, or abandoned children under the age of six.  Many of the children as newborns are literally left on their doorstep, located here in the West Bank where basic human rights are severely restricted and the simplest of life’s activities can quickly turn tragic.  The Creche is the only institution in the Palestinian Territories authorized to accomplish such a mission.  Yes, this is Bethlehem, the place of Jesus’ birth.

Here, at the Creche, pregnant unwed Muslim women are taken into secrecy until after childbirth to avoid being murdered by their families.  All children born here are by law registered as Muslim; yet, Islamic law forbids adoption of children.  The nuns cannot educate the children in the Christian faith, they cannot give them the traditional home and family many of them crave, but there is no hesitance on the part of the sisters to surround these blessed children of God with the love of Christ.

The obstacles are unthinkable for us who are so blessed to be citizens of the United States of America; we wept in the presence of their happiness.  Through these Daughters of Charity, led by their mountaintop call to mission in the valley below, the love of Jesus Christ fully encompasses all who enter the embrace of the Creche of Bethlehem – Christians, the tiny minority within the minority, and one of the few bridges to the peace of the love of Christ in the Land of the Holy One.

With the coming of Lent, we are called to the quiet mountaintop with Peter and James and John to pray with great intention, earnestness, and openness.  Perhaps these experiences will be ecstatic at times – true mountaintop experiences.  But our purpose is not there on the mountaintop; that is only the beginning or the renewal of our mission.  As Christ’s apostles, our mission is on the plains and in the valleys, wherever God’s people are gathered, wherever the suffering are in need of healing, wherever faith needs transfiguration through the redemptive power of the Good News of Jesus Christ.  We are called by God to the mountaintop and we are sent by God down from the mountaintop transfigured by the love of Jesus Christ to the work for which we are anointed.

Deuteronomy 30:15-20 1 Corinthians 3:1-9 Matthew 5:21-37 Psalm 119:1-8

            This morning’s lesson from the 30^th chapter of Deuteronomy brings us to the end of one of the most significant and fascinating sagas in our history as God’s people.  These words in our first lesson are from the farewell address of Moses, given on the plains of Moab – the last of the words of God delivered by Moses to the Israelites.

This final address, the third of three addresses, is delivered as the people of Israel are encamped in Moab, east of the Jordan River, anticipating their arrival into the Promised Land of Canaan after their long sojourn in the wilderness.   The scripture tells us that Moses dies here at the age of 120 after having climbed to the top of Mount Nebo to view the Promised Land from afar while being disallowed from entering it – the land for which he had led his people out of Egypt to Mount Sinai and northward to the banks of the Jordan overlooking Canaan.  In Deuteronomy chapter 34 we learn that Moses was buried here in the land of Moab, “but no one knows his burial place [even] until this day.” [NRSV]

In previous addresses, Moses has recounted the struggles of the Israelites through the wilderness and has warned them of the potential temptations that could befall them once they gain successful inhabitance of the Promised Land.  In this address from which we read this morning, Moses exhorts the people of Israel to remain faithful to the law of God handed down to them from Mount Sinai.

Deuteronomy, the fifth book of the Pentateuch, is defined as “second law” or “repetition of the law.” And, though the Jewish encyclopedia labels this translation of the term “Deuteronomy” erroneous, it is admittedly an appropriate description.  For, the book of Deuteronomy reformulates much of the law previously laid down in the book of Exodus.

Thus, as the life of Moses is drawing to a close, he is seeking to interpret the law more correctly or to define it more clearly – to guide the people to move beyond a primitive interpretation of their covenant with God as they had viewed it throughout their sojourn in the wilderness.  From this primitive view, God was defined by His demand for obedience and His seemingly unrelenting punishment – follow the law and you are blessed, violate the law and you are punished.  “Obey…then you shall live and become numerous…and God will bless you…But if your heart turns away…you shall perish.”

The covenant from the time of Noah and Abraham between God and His people had been broken and renewed and broken and renewed.  But, once established in a centralized location, which the Israelites now anticipated, the covenant would become non-breakable and eternal.  Law that was feared in terms of the strict obedience it required and the emphasis on the threat of punishment for sin is seen in a different light.

From now on the law would be better understood as the need for trust in God.  It would encompass the inward desire to follow God’s will as the manifestation of love for God and neighbor.

It is helpful for us to recognize that our English translation of the “law” is a distortion of the Hebrew understanding of the Torah.  In a more correct interpretation, the Torah is a revelation of God’s will that the people of Israel were privileged and chosen to receive.

Thus, Moses is seeking to describe a renewed sense of spirit in which the people of God should obey the law sent down from Mount Sinai.  He exhorts the people to live into God’s commandments as a channel toward fullness of life rather than in fear of punishment – to see God’s commandments as a gift – a gift of instruction to guide them in their relationship to God and their neighbor.

Isn’t that our own sojourn – our own faith journey? A faith journey that is that of coming to an understanding of God’s law, not in terms of our fear of punishment; but, as guidance toward trust in God; guidance toward the manifestation of that trust that is exhibited in our love of God and love of our neighbor.  It is here that we cross over the Jordan in our own spiritual journey into a deeper relationship with God’s Kingdom. Trusting that there is nothing we can do to make God love us more than He loves us now – and nothing we can do to make Him love us less – God’s love has no characteristic of quantity.  It is love through His grace – unearned, unconditional.  And, as hard as we might try, we cannot shake ourselves loose of it.  God does not break His covenant with us.

This becomes even clearer when, centuries after the Israelites settled into Canaan, Jesus would come to live among them.  For the past two Sundays and today, we visit another mountain, as our Gospel lessons are from Matthew’s account of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount.  And, the very Jewish Matthew would want us to make the connection between the law given at Mount Sinai and the law being fulfilled on this unnamed mountain in Galilee.

In His Sermon on the Mount, Jesus is making known His goal and purpose of fulfilling the law and dispelling the misconception that He had come to abolish the law.   The people of God had instituted hundreds of laws of religious ritual – what to eat, how to worship, how to observe the Sabbath, what to wear and when to wear it, and their was often harsh punishment for those who did not abide by these laws.  The threat of abolishing the laws was a source of great consternation for community leaders who sought to enforce them.  But Jesus is speaking of earthly laws only as they relate to God’s will for his people, God’s gift of guidance in human relationships.

Our visit these last two weeks to the Land of the Holy One offered many eye-opening experiences with religious law.  We were confronted with many ironies concerning God’s Law and the impact of the life and ministry of Jesus Christ in relation to God’s intentions regarding the law.  I will forever be processing many of these experiences, but one particular experience that comes to mind is our visit to Hebron – the burial place of the patriarchs Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebecca, Jacob and Leah.  Jews and Muslims share this holy site; Abraham and Sarah’s tombs are located in the common shared space; Isaac (interestingly) and Rebecca’s tombs are located in the Mosque; Jacob and Leah’s tombs are located in the Synagogue.  We visited both sites, seeking to respect the religious expectations of both traditions – all of us removing our shoes, and the women donning floor-length hooded garments as we were guided through the mosque where there was a sense of welcome from the Muslims who led us in.

Visiting the synagogue had a distinctly different feel.  Passing through the large area where the young men were gathered who studied the prophecy and debated the many laws laid down for them in Leviticus, we women were alerted that we had violated their space.  On our return trip through the synagogue area, we were to pass behind the screen that separated us from the men – the men who were working so diligently to learn God’s law as defined in the Torah.  Of course, we sought to respect their religious practice, but I couldn’t help but feel a sense of Jesus’ frustration.  Of course, we honor the same God, but Jesus continues to cry out for our understanding of the essence of relationship and hospitality.

Our thoughts are rightly fixed on God’s ever-present judgment of our actions; but, we focus on God’s judgment, not because we fear the wrath of God’s punishment; we know that His Son Jesus Christ took all of our punishment upon Him when He died for us.  Our thoughts are fixed on God’s ever-present judgment of our actions because, with great intention, we seek His will in our relationship with those closest to us and those unknown to us.  Our relationship to God is expressed in that relationship with others – the revelation of God’s will that we, His people, are privileged and chosen to receive.

God delights in our worship of Him, but more than religious ritual he desires that we trust and seek His will in mending broken relationships.   In seeking God’s guidance to follow His commandments we receive His gift and we are enlightened in the understanding of His laws.  Just as Moses instructed the Israelites as they prepared to take possession of the Promised Land, “Choose life so that you and your descendants may live, loving the Lord your God, obeying him, and holding fast to him.”  [NRSV Deuteronomy 30:19b-20a]

Isaiah 9:1-4 1 Corinthians 1:10-18 Matthew 4:12-23 Psalm 27:1, 5-13

“Now I appeal to you, brothers and sisters, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you be in agreement and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be united in the same mind and the same purpose.”  [1 Corinthians 1:10-18]

The Apostle Paul wrote these words to the Church in Corinth; the words are a continuation of last week’s epistle lesson from the 1^st Chapter of Paul’s 1^st letter to the Corinthians.  Corinth, located in modern-day southern Greece, had been an area of significant ministry, particularly on Paul’s second missionary journey.  Paul is believed to have written two letters to the Church at Corinth in the mid-first century, months or years after visiting there; this first, perhaps, written from his prison cell in Ephesus.

Paul’s letters to the early congregations inspired by his missionary journeys in the areas of modern-day Asia Minor and Southeastern Europe have provided an ongoing wealth of guidance to the Church from these earliest times until today.  These early Christian gatherings were not so different from Christian gatherings 2,000 years later.  The Church of the first century and the Church of today was and is a human relationship; the Church as a human relationship suffers human struggles, just as do all human relationships.  Yet, the Church is founded not on the weakness of humans, but on the omnipotent Jesus Christ, our one and only Lord.  From the beginning and forever, our common ground is Jesus Christ our Lord.  The Church’s one foundation is Jesus Christ our Lord.

Paul began his letter to the Church of Corinth, as we read last week, with his typical words of greeting and thanksgiving, “Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.”  Continuing, “I give thanks to my God always for you.” [How we love these words ourselves as we great one another in the name of Christ].  Then, as is typical of Paul’s greetings, he heaped words of praise upon these earliest Christians who were forming and gathering in church houses throughout this Mediterranean area.

It is not until we move into verse 10, the beginning of today’s lesson, that we begin to sense that all is not well; there are divisions among the Christians in Corinth – divisions among Christians; perish the thought.  We learn that the Corinthians were quarreling; disunity had plagued their missionary efforts.  They had begun to split into sub-groups depending upon whom they recognized as their leader.  Subsequent chapters will detail more of the specifics of the divisive issues; Paul’s purpose in the early words of his letter is to denounce soundly the divisions and to stress the essence of oneness in the name of Jesus Christ.  Paul stresses that Jesus Christ is not divided; Jesus Christ is our common Lord.

How ironic that this scriptural theme be our focus on this Sunday preceding the consecration of our 11^th Bishop of the Diocese of Southern Virginia.  With an abundance of diplomacy, our bishop-elect drew from this vein of Pauline wisdom in her letter to the Catholic Diocese of Richmond in which she announced her intention to withdraw from the contract with St. Bede Catholic Church to host her consecration.  Quoting Bishop-elect Haynes, “The Apostle Paul cautioned Christians to be careful about pursuing behavior that might cause problems for others within their community.”

The bishop-elect’s decision to withdraw from the contract was in response to a groundswell of objections from Roman Catholics across the country in opposition to this particular episcopal consecration being held in a Roman Catholic Church.  At least one explosive message suggested that this desecration of St. Bede would necessitate the building being burned down.  As a committee member, I, myself, received a similar message by email.

Throughout the uncomfortable ordeal, the Roman Catholic hierarchy at the diocesan level and at St. Bede, as well as the large majority of parishioners at St. Bede, were committed to honor the contract, standing their ground in unity with the Episcopal Church, even as our committee discussions became consumed with concern for security and the avoidance of embarrassing disruptions.  It was Bishop-elect Haynes who so graciously withdrew out of concern for the “dismay and distress” that our plans were creating within the Roman Catholic community.

If you turn to the Nicene Creed on page 358-9 of the Book of Common Prayer, you will note under our professed beliefs regarding the Holy Spirit:  We believe in one catholic and apostolic Church – small “c” on catholic, big “C” on Church.  The word catholic is not a proper name, but a common adjective that translates as “unified”; the word Church iscapitalized in this sense as it is a proper name that refers to all Christendom emphasizing the one body of Christ.  The church [little “c”] is a building; the Church [big “C”] is the Body of Christ.  And, we ARE the Church.

The Apostle Paul, in his words to the fractured Corinthians, is not calling for their uniformity of opinion; but he offers extreme caution that their quarreling will undermine the community – allowing our shallow worldly wisdom to overshadow the wisdom of the cross.

So many of our controversies are focused on our differences of Christian practices.  Believe me, we should be grateful to the Roman Catholic Church for their commitment to the Holy Communion and for holding the line on a number of moral issues, and I respect the strong positions of those who have objected to our theology of the sacrament of ordination.  My prayer is that this recent kerfuffle will be an opportunity for deeper Communion and greater unity in the mission of Jesus Christ, our common Lord.

As described by the writer of the Gospel of Matthew, our Lord Jesus Christ saw the potential and called simple ordinary fishermen whom we continue to recognize as saints; our Lord Jesus Christ proclaimed the good news and brought healing to the sick.  This is our common Lord who has called us to ministry in our simple and ordinary lives; our Lord who has called us to proclaim the good news and bring healing to the broken lives around us.  This is our common ground, Church’s one foundation.

Isaiah 49:1-7 1 Corinthians 1:1-9 John 1:29-42 Psalm 40:1-12

“What are you looking for?”  These are the words of Jesus to two disciples of John the Baptist – two disciples who would become Jesus’ disciples – one known to us as Andrew, the other unnamed.  We could speculate that this unnamed disciple is in fact the “Beloved Disciple” who remains unnamed throughout John’s Gospel.

Our Gospel lesson this morning picks up on what Bible commentators label as Day Two of the first days of Jesus’ recorded ministry. Unlike Matthew and Luke,  John’s Gospel tells us nothing of Jesus’ birth or early days or even the narrative of his travels and ministry.  And, unlike Matthew, Mark, and Luke, this fourth Gospel relates no details of Jesus’ baptism by John the Baptist.   We are simply to understand that the witness of John the Baptist – “the voice crying in the wilderness” – is preparation for the coming of the One on whom the spirit descends and remains, the One who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.  The writer of John’s Gospel is witness to the One on whom the spirit has descended at his baptism and remains throughout his ministry.  The baptism, which we studied and celebrated last week, sets the course for the beginning of Jesus’ earthly ministry.

“What are you looking for?” Jesus turns and says to the two disciples who are following him.  But, the startled response of Andrew and his companion leads us to believe that the expectations of these two disciples were as yet misdirected and quite obscured.  “Rabbi,” they exclaim.  The term Rabbi translates simply as teacher.  This first impression response from these two, who would eventually give their lives to following Jesus, indicates their very limited interpretation of who Jesus is.  This is only the beginning; they have no conception of the true dynamics of Jesus’ presence on earth.  Of course, they are not yet prepared for the life-altering, redefining of the cosmos that was to come as the result of Jesus coming into their midst.

Andrew is known primarily as the brother of Simon Peter.  Yet, today, nearly every coastal town has a church of St. Andrew; he is the patron saint of Scotland (and golfers); our Episcopal shield and the Union Jack include his flag – the white diagonal cross on the blue field.

Andrew, a disciple of John the Baptist, is credited as the first to alert his brother Simon Peter of Jesus’ unique presence.  Our lesson tells us that, with confidence, Andrew said to Peter, “We have found the Messiah.”   Later, in John’s Gospel account, we learn that it is Andrew who finds the boy with the loaves and the fishes among the crowd of 5,000; another mention in John’s Gospel reports that Andrew joins the fellow disciple Philip in bringing Gentiles into the ministry of Jesus Christ.  Andrew is known for his loyalty and compassion; he is defined as a seeker.

Surely, Andrew and his fellow disciple of our Gospel account sensed something very different about this man about whom John the Baptist had testified – the Lamb of God, the one on whom John the Baptist himself had seen the Spirit descend and remain, the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.  They and we would come to know that Jesus is much more than a “Rabbi,” a teacher – a term that severely limits our expectations of Jesus’ earthly mission.  Certainly, Jesus is a great teacher – and we will see much evidence of his teaching, particularly in our study of Matthew’s Gospel as this year unfolds.

Not until after the crucifixion, resurrection, and Ascension of Christ – not until after the Holy Spirit descended upon them at Pentecost did the disciples come into full understanding of what they were looking for when they first were called to follow Jesus Christ.  For Andrew and the other disciples, it was a lifelong epiphany – a lifelong struggle – a lifelong search with faith and diligence – little by little until their dying day, they must have heard Jesus’ question, “What are you looking for?”  And, they took up their call to help others answer that question.

As in our account of the calling of the first of Jesus’ disciples, we too are attracted to Jesus’ presence among us.  He turns, sees us following, and asks, “What are you looking for?”  With feeble understanding, we express curiosity in his mission.  We’d like some definite answers as to where he might lead us if we follow.  But, quite simply, Jesus says, “Come and see.”  Quite simply, Jesus says, “Don’t let you limited understanding or lack of certainty inhibit your growth in ministry and spirituality.  Have faith.  Trust. Come and see.”  Open yourself fully and completely to the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.

What are you looking for?  Like these first disciples, unless and until we seek, with all intention and sincerity, the answer to that question, our worship and mission remain empty – our spiritual life remains unfulfilled.  It is a lifelong epiphany, a lifelong struggle, a lifelong search with faith and diligence, little by little, until we are united fully with Jesus Christ as He leads us, perfected, into his Kingdom.

Extra-biblical historical writings tell us that Andrew requested the diagonal cross for his martyrdom; death came more slowly on this type cross than that on the Roman Cross on which our Lord was crucified.  Andrew sought to have his suffering on the cross prolonged that he might have more time to preach the truth of Jesus Christ to his murderers.  Until the very end of his earthly life, Andrew was a seeker, seeking to answer that very first question of Jesus in their very first encounter, “What are you looking for?” Andrew heeds Jesus’ command seeking, seeking, seeking – until the very end of his earthly life, as he died so slowly on the cross that would come to be his symbol, beckoning all within his voice to “Come and see.”

Jesus, himself, asks us, “What are you looking for?”   Jesus, himself, beckons, “Come and see.”

Amen 

Isaiah 42:1-9 Acts 10:34-43 Matthew 3:13-17 Psalm 29

All the prophets testify about him that everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name.  [Acts 10:43]

My friend who died recently had a treasured and fascinating nativity scene collection.  On her mantle above her living room fireplace each Christmas, centered around the tiny creche, was an ever-growing menagerie of animals.  There were sheep and cattle and a donkey as we would expect, but gathered there in addition to these traditional animals were tiny replicas of a giraffe and an elephant and a pig to name a few.  These were souvenirs of years of travel around the world.  It seemed that every imaginable animal was represented there – all gathered with the shepherds and wise men to pay homage to the newborn baby Jesus.  Even a warthog – surely one of the ugliest and most humble of animals with the most unpleasant name; a warthog has nearly no neck and has to kneel on its front legs in order to root for food on the ground.  Nevertheless, the warthog was gathered there to pay homage along with his more physically appealing fellow creatures from all over the world.

In our first lesson for this day on which we celebrate the Baptism of our Lord and our own baptisms through which we are marked as Christ’s own forever, the prophet Isaiah is speaking the words of God to the people of Israel.  By this time in the 8^th century BC, God’s people had been scattered for decades, exiled in Babylon (modern day Iraq), forever a war-torn area of the world.  The forty-second chapter of Isaiah is the beginning of what scholars have labeled “The First Servant Song.”  The identity of the “servant” is left to speculation as to whether it is a nation or an individual or both.  Regardless this identity, the message is indisputable; it is a message affirming the promise of hopefulness and comfort that this servant will bring to the exiled people of God.

Isaiah speaks, [vv. 1, 6-7]

Here is my servant, whom I uphold,
my chosen, in whom my soul delights…

I am the Lord, I have called you in righteousness,
I have taken you by the hand and kept you;

I have given you as a covenant to the people,
a light to the nations,
to open the eyes that are blind,

to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon,
from the prison those who sit in darkness.

 

This servant will open the eyes that are blind; through this servant God will gather to him, bringing into the light, those imprisoned in darkness.  The Lord has called this servant to be a light to all nations, guiding them home.  From wherever we or they may be, God will gather us and bring us home.

Peter echoes this message in his speech to the Apostles in these early years following the death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus Christ.  The earthly mission and ministry of Jesus Christ is now laid upon these apostles to carry forward as Jesus had commanded – to preach and to testify that Jesus Christ was ordained by God as judge of the living and the dead – and, that through faith in Jesus Christ, all are forgiven of sins.  Through him, all that are blind are taken by the hand, out of the dark dungeons of hopelessness; through him, they are gathered into his light – no partiality; everyone who recognizes God’s authority (expressed here by the word “fear,” which tends to mislead us); everyone who desires righteousness is acceptable to God.  Peter preached this message to the earliest apostles.  We, now, are the apostles who are to hear and heed.

As Jesus was baptized, so we, too, are baptized.  As baptized believers, in covenant with Jesus Christ, [BCP p. 304-5] we proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ; we seek and serve Christ in all persons; we strive for justice and peace among all people, respecting the dignity of every human being.  We will renew these promises of serving Christ in all persons and respecting the dignity of all people as we renew our Baptismal Covenant in a few short moments from now.

Our Gospel lesson account of the baptism of Jesus best affirms the gathering of all people to God.  Prior to our verses assigned for today’s Gospel reading, we read in verses 5-6:  The people of Jerusalem and all Judea were going out to him [JTB], and all the region along the Jordan, and they were baptized by him.  – “All Judea and all the region along the Jordan;” through baptism, all were gathered into the light of Jesus Christ.

Then, we read, Jesus, himself, came to be baptized by John.  As Jesus was baptized, scripture tells us that the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him [v. 16].  From this description, we sense the surge of self-understanding and certainty that comes to Jesus at this moment.

There are far too many who have not heard with certainty the message of the Good News that gathers us all within the light of Christ.  There are far too many who remain willingly blind to the message.  And, worst of all, there are far too many for whom the message has been distorted – far too many who have been forced into exile by the Church’s obsession with an elitist distorted message.  These are the “dones,” those in most need of hearing from us the hopefulness of Isaiah’s prophecy and the insistence of Peter’s proclamation.  To these especially, we are called to exemplify the self-understanding of being marked as Christ’s own forever in our baptism and the certainty of the presence of the Holy Trinity through which we are all taken by the hand and restored to God’s keeping, gathered from the prison of darkness into the light of Jesus Christ.

We are all warthogs at one time or another – snorting and rooting and unpleasant in appearance.  And, yet, in my late friend’s scene of the nativity, we cannot help but acknowledge that it is the warthog who is kneeling before the Christ Child – gathered into the kingdom amongst the menagerie of all creation.  All believing; all forgiven of sins; all taken by the hand of God and gathered into the light of his presence; all marked as Christ’s own forever.     Amen

Jeremiah 31:7-14 Ephesians 1:3-6,15-19a Matthew 2:1-12 Psalm 84 or 84:1-8

“On 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.” [Mt. 2:11]

Again, we stand in awe of the Magi who come from afar, so reverently and intentionally following the star to the place where Jesus was born.  It is a sweet story and a necessary inclusion in our Nativity celebration.

Yet, Matthew’s account of the visit of the Magi to pay homage to the “child born king of the Jews” is much more; Matthew’s account of the visit of the Magi to pay homage to the “child born king of the Jews” encompasses a radical message – a great breach of tradition.  The concept of pagan foreigners being among the first to be led to pay homage to the “child born king of the Jews” shatters the current religious and political norms of the day.  Why was it not the chief priests?  Why was it not the “great” King Herod who had been summoned, alerted to this cataclysmic event?  News of the arrival of these foreign pagan astrologers, summoned and led from the far corners of the known world by a star that onlythey had observed, stabbed the very hearts of those of the religiously and politically established hierarchy; Herod was deranged with trepidation and fear.  Long-standing tradition had been breached.

Could it be that God has come to earth as the God of all people?  Could it be that even those outside the margins, those cast out by society, those who were not born into the accepted norms and carefully controlled boundaries of “The Religious,” could it be that even these, too, are loved by God and included in God’s kingdom?

Matthew affirms from the very beginning of his Gospel account, throughout, and in his closing words that God, whom we come to know through Jesus Christ, is the God of all people.  Matthew’s first chapter relates the genealogy of Jesus.  Included in that genealogy, which lists the earthly ancestors of Jesus, are foreigners and sinners and those whose earthly history is known only to God – those whose inclusion in the chain of ancestry from the time of Abraham to the birth of Jesus represents significant breaches of acceptable norms.  Matthew sets his stake deeply in the ground of all creation: God is the God of all.

Matthew affirms this message here in the beginning and to end of his Gospel.  We receive this message repeated in the closing verses of Matthew’s Gospel, in what we know as the Great Commission, Jesus’ very last words to the disciples before ascending to the Father: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations.”  The Magi get the message, and they journey from nations afar to affirm that message.

Furthermore, the Magi understand that the prophecy of the coming of Emmanuel is fulfilled in this child to whom they are being led by the star.  The scripture affirms this message as well from the very beginning of Matthew’s Gospel account – the message that the child, the Messiah, fulfills the age-old prophecy: “Look, a virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call him Emmanuel,” which means “God is with us.” [Mt. 1:23] This, too, is a radical message:  God’s prophecy has been fulfilled in this child born in Bethlehem.  In this tiny child, God has come to earth; in this tiny child, God’s message is affirmed, “God is with us.”

In the first chapter of Matthew’s Gospel we read the account of Joseph, Jesus’ earthly father, hearing these words of affirmation in a dream, as the angel of the Lord appears to Joseph to assure him that the child that Mary, his espoused, has conceived is from the Holy Spirit.  In the words of the angel, Joseph is not to be afraid; he is to take Mary as his wife; he is to name the child Jesus, “for he will save his people from their sins.”

Over and over, Matthew affirms Jesus as the Messiah foretold by the prophets from the earliest generations of the people of God.  Emmanuel, meaning God is with us.  These are Matthew’s beginning and ending words.  We hear these words in the words of the angel appearing to Joseph as God prepares Joseph to commit to the missions of taking Mary as his wife, accompanying and caring for her, and as Jesus’ earthly father.  Matthew affirms these words throughout his Gospel account and in these same last verses of the Great Commission:  Jesus leaves his disciples with the command to carry the Gospel to all people, ending with the assurance of Emmanuel: “And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” [Mt. 28:20b]

This is the child to whom the Magi were led.  They didn’t come in kingly grandeur with their chests puffed up in a parade of fancy gifts.  They came overwhelmed with joy; they prostrated themselves and paid homage to the child and his mother.  Then, they offered their gifts: gold worthy of a king, frankincense worthy of a divinity, myrrh worthy of one who would die for humankind: the gold of virtue and good deeds, the incense of worship and prayer, and myrrh – the spice of suffering and sacrifice.

“On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage.  The unaccepted non-believers from a foreign land followed the star until it stopped at the place where lay the God of all people; Emmanuel – the God who is with us always.  They paid him homage – this King of kings, this great High Priest, this one who came to be our suffering Redeemer.  Even still, it is a radical message.

The Magi got the message; they followed the star.  Will you?