Thursday, January 12, 2023
What They Had to Give and What He Had to Lose
Scripture Lessons: Isaiah 60: 1-6 and Matthew 2: 1-12
Sermon Title: What They Had To Give and What He Had To Lose
Preached on January 8, 2023
Does it seem like Christmas was a long time ago?
At our house, Christmas is long gone.
The tree is out and on the curb.
I took down most of the outside lights, at least the ones I could get down from the limbs I hung them in.
We’ve eaten all the Christmas cookies.
Kroger has already moved on to Valentine’s Day.
Christmas is old news for a lot of us. All that’s left for me is the ten pounds I gained, yet here we are singing about the three kings at First Presbyterian Church because, according to the Gospel of Matthew, they didn’t show up until “after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea.” Some scholars think he may have been five or six years old by the time they got there, which might sound strange because what we know or what we think we know comes both from the Bible and from what we’ve been told.
We’ve been told that their names were Gaspar, Melchior, and Balthasar, but that’s not in the Bible.
We’ve also been told that there were three of them. That’s not in the Bible either.
There were three gifts, but the Gospel of Matthew never specifies how many magi, kings, wise men, or whatever you want to call them showed up, nor should we be so quick to conclude that they were all men.
When they couldn’t find Jesus, they stopped and asked for directions, so there must have been at least one woman with them.
That’s my favorite Epiphany joke.
The other is a cartoon where one of them shows up with Frankenstein instead of frankincense, but seriously, what people don’t know they make up, so not knowing their names, where they came from, when they arrived, or how many there were, tradition came up with all kinds of answers. There’s even a children’s book that names their camels: Erin, Nina, and Penda.
The names of their camels are beside the point.
Rather than getting wrapped up in superfluous details that someone made up, consider instead what the Bible tells us, for it’s likely that the Gospel of Matthew tells us everything we need to know about these magi from the East simply by telling us that they stopped and asked for directions.
It’s not always easy to stop and ask for directions.
It’s not always easy to ask for help when you’re lost.
Think about what all it takes for George Bailey to finally stop and ask for directions when he reaches the end of his rope.
I watched a lot of Christmas movies between Christmas and New Year.
Did you?
George Bailey is a great character in It’s a Wonderful Life.
He doesn’t know it, but he’s made a difference in the lives of so many by giving them the means to buy their first homes.
On the other hand is Mr. Potter.
George is at odds with Mr. Potter.
George loses his temper and calls him a warped, frustrated, old man, which he is, for Mr. Potter is willing to take advantage of people to make more money.
He takes and takes and takes as though he’d be happy if he owned the whole town.
The thing he can’t seem to get his hands on is the Building and Loan that George and his Uncle Billy run. When Mr. Potter ends up with an envelope full of cash that Uncle Billy was supposed to deposit, he doesn’t return it, but allows the bank examiner to breath down George’s neck.
It appears the Building and Loan will close, and George will go to jail for misusing funds.
Next, we see George, with his life insurance plan in hand, standing on a bridge above a river thinking he’s worth more dead than alive.
He fears he’s about to lose everything, and the only way he can imagine saving his family is by sacrificing himself. Yet, in what might be his last moments, he prays.
Dear Father in heaven, I’m not a praying man, but if you’re up there and you can hear me, show me the way. I’m at the end of my rope.
That’s a powerful prayer.
Have you ever prayed a prayer like that?
Have you ever voiced such vulnerability?
Notice that in our second Scripture lesson, we have on the one hand:
Magi from the East [who] came to Jerusalem, asking for directions: “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews?”
On the other hand, when King Herod heard this, he was frightened and all of Jerusalem with him.
Think about that difference.
On the one hand are these magi from the East asking for directions.
They’re asking for Jesus.
They’re seeking Him out.
They want to meet Him, as though there’s something that He has that they need or want.
They go to Him bearing gifts worthy of a king.
On the other hand, King Herod is afraid because if there is another king in Jerusalem then he’s suddenly vulnerable, and he didn’t want to be vulnerable.
In fact, he was determined to make himself invulnerable, and so he searches for this child to destroy Him.
Next, in Matthew’s Gospel, we read that he channels Pharoah from the Exodus by having all the boy children in Bethlehem killed so that his position might be secure.
People do all kinds of things to try and keep their positions secure.
They’ll pretend they know where they’re going when they’re lost.
They’ll pretend they know the answer when they don’t.
They’ll see others as threats rather than friends.
They can’t laugh at themselves, for to err makes them feel vulnerable.
What’s wrong with being vulnerable?
Think about what happens to George Bailey.
When George Bailey reaches the end of his rope and his wife lets the whole town know that he needs help, they bring him gifts.
When instead of lashing out and building walls.
When instead of breathing threats and allowing his fear to turn into hate.
When instead of closing in on himself and becoming a monster, he opens his heart and becomes vulnerable, he asks for direction, and he prays to God to show him the way.
What happens?
The town brought him gifts.
He became vulnerable, and they brought him gifts.
My friends, I’m not just talking about George Bailey anymore.
I’m talking about myself.
I am a man who hates to ask for directions.
I am a man who can’t stand to ask for help.
Last week, rain was coming into our basement.
Sara’s trying to help me. I’m determined to do it all myself.
She starts calling Freddy Moore, our contractor. I’m determined to do it all myself.
Do you know what happened when Sara ignored my stubbornness and called for help anyway?
Go down to our basement and see.
I couldn’t fix it.
I can’t fix everything.
I’m just a human.
Who last Wednesday called Bill Paden “Bill Rohner” during his funeral?
Did you hear I did that last Wednesday?
Well, I did, and it nearly killed me.
I’ve had that reoccurring nightmare for years.
I’ve never wanted to make that mistake, but I did.
I’m only human.
There was a part of me that wanted to cover up my mistake and pretend it hadn’t happened. There was a big part of me that wanted just to keep going, hoping no one had heard the slip.
Well, they had, so I stopped to apologize and to laugh at myself, and the congregation laughed with me. After the funeral, someone told me that that was the best part of the service.
Why?
I’ve been thinking about that all week.
Why would that be the best part of the service?
It’s because only one of us was ever perfect and think about what He did.
He so wanted a relationship with us that He came down from heaven, was born of the Virgin Mary, and was incarnate in human form. The King of Kings and Lord of Lords shows us how to live by making Himself vulnerable.
His very DNA was humility.
Rather than stay up in heaven, He came down here.
Rather than live in a palace, He was born in a barn.
He came eating and drinking, laughing and crying.
Why, then, would we hide the very mistakes that make us human?
We are the only species so vulnerable as to require parents for survival, yet our Father in Heaven becomes vulnerable to be here in relationship with us.
Why then would we be slow to ask for directions when Jesus was born into our human weakness?
My friends, I have to remember that the way to build a relationship is through vulnerability.
We all must remember that the way to build friendships, be better parents, and better partners in relationship is to stop and ask for directions.
That’s how relationships are built, and we know it because God builds a relationship with us by becoming human.
Reveal your humanity, your imperfection, your faults, your weakness, your prayers, your dreams, your insecurity, for it is by becoming vulnerable that we become like Christ.
This is the way to live. It’s by offering ourselves and revealing our true vulnerable selves, for it is by losing what we’ve long defended that we gain eternal life.
Amen.
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