Community Church Sermons
December 30, 2007
First Sunday after Christmas
Rev. Rhonda A. Blevins
Matthew 2:1-12
Listen to this Sermon!
Introduction
A few years ago when I
was living in Athens, Georgia, I had been out of town for a friend’s funeral
hundreds of miles away. I found myself driving back, exhausted from my trip and
from the hours alone behind the wheel; I was eager to get back and sleep in my
own bed. It was getting pretty late, almost midnight. I was on a stretch of
highway between Atlanta and Athens that was undeveloped, with only one or two
gas stations, when I saw a bright light shining in the darkness. It said, “Low
fuel.” I knew I needed to stop at the first gas station I saw or spend my night
stranded on the side of the road.
About then my cell
phone rang. It was a friend calling to keep me company on my long trip home, so
we began to talk and I got engrossed in conversation. When we hung up, I
realized I had missed my gas station! My gas gauge was well below empty. . .
lower than it had ever been. I was definitely in trouble.
I knew that my only
hope of filling my tank. . .my only hope of not being stranded in the middle of
the night on the side of the road. . .was a gas station in the little town of
Bethlehem.
Bethlehem, Georgia is
a little nowhere town between Atlanta and Athens. The only reason you’d ever go
there would be to have your Christmas cards postmarked, “Bethlehem.” Having
little use for such frivolity, the greatest thing to me about Bethlehem in my
Georgia days was that strategically placed gas station which had been my
salvation more than once. Bethlehem had the only gas for miles on that stretch
of highway between Atlanta and Athens. That night I was beside myself, worried
that I would break down before reaching that gas station at the Bethlehem exit.
I continued to chug
along. I turned off my heat and my radio (I don’t know if that really helps,
but hey. . .people do stupid stuff when they’re desperate!). Then to my
surprise, there stood a BP I had never noticed. I whirled into the station and
up to the pumps. I noticed it was pretty dark; no attendant in sight. I swiped
my debit card. Nothing. Swipe. Nothing. Another hopeful swipe. Nothing. It was
closed. Now, I was definitely Desperate
for Bethlehem.
Lessons From the Magi
Today in our scripture
text, we encounter some other folks who seemed Desperate for Bethlehem. We read the story of the wise men or
“Magi” only in the book of Matthew, but this strange visit has been the stuff
of lore for over 2,000 years now. Those who study such things suggest that
these wise men were from the country we now know as Iran. They were likely
astrologers who saw a star and set out probably on foot for a three month
journey to MAYBE find the new JEWISH king. Then IF they found him, they would
have to walk another three months home. And this was no easy walk. It was
desert most of the way. They had no assurance they would find the child. Their
journey was difficult, it was risky, and it was undoubtedly expensive. But
perhaps we can learn from this strange tale of Iranian astrologers spending
half a year to catch a glimpse of a Jewish infant. Maybe their journey can
inform our own quest to see the Christ.
Lesson #1: Ask for
Directions
The wise men weren’t
afraid to ask for directions, nor should we be. In our scripture lesson, we
find the Magi asking “Where is he who has been born King of the Jews?” We need
people to point the way from time to time, but we’re often too stubborn, too
independent to take directions from someone else.
I have some dear friends
who were teaching their then four-year-old daughter, Kaleigh, to memorize
scripture. So one night before bed, they were introducing Philippians 4:13 to
her, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” So very slowly
they began to read to her, “I can do all things. . .” at which point Kaleigh
popped in, “BY MYSELF!”
Like Kaleigh, we like
to imagine we can do this Christ quest alone, but the truth is we need each
other.
Lesson #2: Expect
Adversity
Like Herod and the
city of Jerusalem, people might get upset by your Christ quest. The text says
that “when Herod the King heard it, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with
him.” Genuine faith challenges the status quo. Genuine faith is lonely, because
no one can share the journey designed for you. Your parents can’t share your
journey, your spouse can’t share your journey, your children can’t share your
journey. The best we can hope for in this quest is to have moments of spiritual
union with another person. Edzard Schaper, in a little tale called The Legend
of the Fourth King, wrote, “. . .those who would see wonderful things must
often be ready to travel alone.”
Lesson #3: Look
High/Look Low
Christ can be found in
unusual places if you have eyes to see. The wise men used astrology and they
asked directions from an evil man, the man who wanted the baby Jesus dead. What
strange tools to use to find Christ! They followed what light they had and
found themselves at the feet of Jesus.
When I was a campus
minister in Georgia, I befriended a student who had been raised in the Catholic
tradition. She had become involved in an Evangelical Christian group on campus,
and her friends in the evangelical group were telling her that because she had
never said “the sinner’s prayer,” that she was not saved and would not go to
heaven. Well I knew this student. I knew her faith. I saw her deep love of
Christ demonstrated every day. She was obviously a committed follower of
Christ. I did my best to help her understand that her path to Christ was
different than that of her friends. . .different but not wrong.
We should learn from
the Magi. . .Christ is not playing hide and go seek with us; there is no
magical phrase we must recite in order to get into heaven. Christ can be found
in unusual places. Seek and he will be found.
Lesson #4: Allow Room
for Error
The Magi found Christ
despite their own ignorance! We call these men “wise” and I’m sure they were.
But you and I know something they didn’t know. You and I know that the earth is
round, and that earth is not the center of the universe. You and I know that
stars rise in the East because of the earth’s rotation. They imagined the star
they followed was moving across the sky, when in fact, it was the earth moving,
causing the appearance of a spectacular star in the east which “moved” across
the sky. Despite their scientific ignorance, they managed to find Christ
anyway! There is room for stupidity in the Christ quest. . .thanks be to God!
I don’t remember a lot
of what I learned in seminary, but I do remember one piece of advice a favorite
professor offered. It was this: “Dare to think you’re wrong.” Our ideas about
God are incomplete at best, and incredulous at worst. Yet in spite of
ourselves, God loves us, and God can be found.
Lesson #5: Never Give
Up
Christ was probably about
2-years-old when the wise men finally arrived. We can learn from this that it
is never too late to begin the journey to Christ. Maybe you’ve spent your whole
life working hard in your career or raising kids, and perhaps you’ve only
recently had time to reflect on eternal things. There’s good news is that it is
never too late to surrender to the hunger within driving you to want to know
your Creator.
The Babouscka
I want to tell you a
beautiful story. Most of us grew up with Santa Claus, but had we been raised in
Russia we would have grown up with the Babouscka. Instead of trying to catch a
peep of Santa coming down the chimney, we would watch out the windows to catch
a glimpse of the Babouscka hobbling by in a hurry. The story goes something
like this:
In the land of Russia, on the night the Christ child was
born, an old woman sat alone in her little cottage, gazing into the flames that
danced on her hearth. Outside, the shrill, cold winds of winter howled
dismally. Snow was blanketing the earth in a white carpet, and the ice-covered
branches of the trees crackled in the wind. The old woman was glad that she had
a fire, and that she could sleep warm in her snug little bed, that she did not
have to go out into the cold.
Suddenly came a rap on her door, and when she opened it,
three stately old men entered her cottage. They had flowing white beards, wore
kingly robes and carried expensively wrapped packages.
“We have traveled far, Babouscka,” they said, “and we stop
to tell you of the Baby Prince who has been born this night in Bethlehem. He
comes to rule the world and to teach all men and women to be loving and true.
We carry Him gifts. Come with us, Babouscka!”
But she shrank back as she heard the storm beating
mercilessly upon her little cottage, and would not leaver her cozy room. So the
old men journeyed on alone through the snow and the wind and the cold.
Babouscka could not sleep that night for thinking of what the men had told her,
and of the wonderful opportunity they had offered her to see the Prince. At
last she decided that, when the dawn came, she would set out alone to find the
Babe, and perhaps on the way she would come upon the old men.
In the morning she put on her heavy cloak, took up her
staff, filled a basket with gold balls, wooden toys, brilliant trinkets, and
set out to find the Christ child. But she had forgotten to ask the three old
men the way to Bethlehem, and they had journeyed so far through the night that
she could not overtake them.
Up and down the roads she hurried, through woods and fields
and towns, saying to all whom she met, “I go to find the Christ child. Where
does he lie? I bring him some pretty toys.” But no one could tell her the way.
Each one shook his head and said, “Farther on Babouscka, farther on!”
In Russia they say that she is still traveling, and that, on Christmas Eve, when children are fast asleep, she comes softly through snowy fields and towns, wrapped in a cloak and carrying a basket. Steadily she enters each house and holds a candle close to the little children’s faces. “Is he here?” she whispers. “Is the little Christ child here?” Then she shakes her head and turns away sorrowfully, sighing, “Farther on Babouscka, farther on!” But she leaves a toy from her basket for each sleeping little one—“For His sake,” she whispers, and hurries on through the night. And the next morning, on Christmas day, when the children awake, wonderful toys appear in their beds. “Be happy,” the children are told, “Babouscka must have been here while you slept.”
Conclusion
The Magi and the
Babouscka have something in common: they all were Desperate for Bethlehem. We share in their yearning. But you and I
live somewhere between the Magi and the Babouska, for like the Magi, we have
found the Savior of the world, yet like the Babouscka, we continue searching
for Him every single day. That is the amazing paradox of this life of faith. .
.living in the land of the “almost nearly but not quite hardly.”
At the dawn of this
New Year, may you continue on your own personal Christ quest, clinging to the
promise that those who seek will find Him. May your hunger to catch a glimpse
of the Christ child burn strong within you, and keep you Desperate for Bethlehem.
You know that night I
was driving from Atlanta to Athens terrified I was going to run out of gas? I
made it to Bethlehem. And so will you.