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The Second Sunday after Christmas Matthew 2:13-15, 19-23 |
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Perhaps you have heard the saying: “If you want God to laugh, make a plan.” Most of us have experienced plans falling apart. Men and women have planned careers only to have their life circumstances changed: they’re called into war or suffer some illness, or are suddenly laid off or fired or children come before they’re expected. Students have planned a curricula and majors only to find that some of the classes they need aren’t accessible or that their interests change. More than one golf outing or picnic or vacation has been thoroughly planned only to be spoiled by bad weather. On a more serious level, sometimes our plans are changed by the untimely death of a loved one and our all plans and hopes and dreams are turned upside down. Already Joseph’s calendar had been changed for him by the edict that he must come to Bethlehem in the first place. This involved a whole lot more than catching a commuter flight. This journey with a pregnant wife on a donkey had not been his first choice. His plans were changed and God, who certainly would not laugh at such a man and predicament, could no doubt smile, knowing that all would be well in the end. In today’s gospel reading, we see the plans of this concerned new father and husband change again. Egypt had not been on the itinerary. But while God smiled on him, this man of faith got up and went a different route than the one he preferred, to a place he had not planned to go. He was not the first Joseph to have taken a detour to Egypt. Remember Joseph with the coat of many colors? He too had gone to Egypt under less than pleasant circumstances. And there another baby, an Israelite child whose name was Moses, had been put in a basket that he might be saved from death. He grew up and led his people out of slavery and into freedom. Perhaps a precursor, a prequel, a prophecy for the ministry and mission of Christ. At any rate, as a result of the unscheduled detour to Egypt taken by the Joseph of today’s gospel story, Jesus is raised initially in Egypt and grows into the One who would lead all humankind to freedom. When we look back, these unscheduled detours in our lives have often led to good places. Perhaps that is why God smiles. A child does not like a trip to the doctor (Neither do most adults for that matter.) But the parent can smile because he or she knows that health will result from the unwanted trip. Relationships have fallen apart against our wishes, only to open the door to love that we otherwise would not have found. Pink slips have been the beginning of fulfilling careers. Even some illnesses, even a death, have changed our understanding of life and mortality and eternity and priority, and this has changed us into something more than we would have otherwise chosen and been. Part of growing up is learning from experience that what we thought was terrible yesterday or last year has in the long run led to something good in our lives this year. It is learning that what we thought was great was possibly a chain around our neck. And that our parents weren’t so yucky and dumb after all. Some of us are old enough to remember a long ago television show starring Robert Young. The show was entitled, Father Knows Best, but often the father’s problem was convincing the kids that he knew anything at all. In our faith-spouting moments, we claim that our Father God knows best. But when the plans we make in the cloudiness of our human condition do not turn out the way we wish or envision, that important dimension of our faith often gets lost. Not that we would argue with God. But we simply don’t take the time to look with larger vision. In the movie Men of Honor, Robert DeNiro, who plays the part of a cranky, belligerent training officer, introduces himself to his nervous recruits as Billy Sunday. (The movie is set in a time when the great and somewhat flamboyant evangelist by that name was still remembered by most people.) He tells them, “The difference between the other Billy Sunday and me is that he preaches about God, and I am God.” Is it possible that even though we may not be so brash, we act as if we are God, the ultimate captain of our ship? No wonder we get so bent out of shape when the ship of our life takes a turn that we did not expect and would not choose. A phrase that has found its way onto many posters and plaques, into sermons and songs, says, “Let go, let God.” Unfortunately, these wise words are often easier to hang on the wall and stick into manuscripts than they are to take into our hearts. But for those who can embrace them and make them a way of life, they become a source of the peace we all crave. Certainly this does not mean that we sit back in a passive existence, but it does mean that we recognize that God is God and we are not. And that we should always be trusting of God’s will, God’s goodwill, for our lives. The Buddhists have, as one of what they call their “noble truths,” the belief that all suffering comes from desire. And didn’t Jesus say that same thing more than once? “The one who seeks to save his life will lose it.” “Do not worry about what you will eat or wear ....” “It is more blessed to give than to receive.” Think about it. From our youngest years, our sadness has come from not having things the way we would like them to be, from the fear of not having enough, from worrying that we would not be able to control the various facets of out lives -- or even the lives of others. At every level of life, sadness and even tragedy result when people act as if they are God and attempt to bring everything into the confines of their own desires. On an international scale it brings war and destruction, refugees and death. All of these the result of someone or some group attempting to be God. On a smaller scale we see the same thing in the world of business. Little gods build their corporate kingdoms and become miserable when they crumble. On a personal level, each day of our lives holds out the choice to either let go and let God or to attempt to be God and live with the consequences. Being a person of faith, as the life of Joseph points out, is so much more than reciting the Nicene Creed or singing our favorite Christian hymn or wearing our crosses around our necks. It truly means that we let go and let God. It means that we really do trust God, even in the scariest moments, to be with us and to guide us and to love us --and to bring us to light and life. How do you suppose that Joseph was able to do this? He had been tested more than once. This night when he got his family packed on a donkey and headed for Egypt was not the first time that his plans were changed by a Wisdom greater than his own. But how did he do it? It would seem that this man, who was able to listen to his God and go in directions he would not have chosen, must have been a person of prayer. How else would he have recognized the voice of God? We recognize best the voices of those to whom we listen often. Joseph had obviously listened long before this night on which he was given his traveling orders to Egypt. He had become accustomed to hear what God was saying to him. We can marvel at Joseph for his ability to let go and let God. We can admire the way that he responded when God spoke, but this ability did not begin on the night of this story or at the beginning of the Christmas story. It had to have been learned over a period of time by a man of prayer who had tuned himself to hear the voice of God, even in dreams, even through angels. The difficulty of this story is that we have heard it so many times that we hear only the well-know storyline. We would do well to listen between the lines of the story and know that it calls us to be persons of prayer, people who can better tune into the voice of God, wherever it invites us to go. It is a story that calls us to let go and let God. The three kings, the wise men, angels and evil kings; a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes. A virgin mother. These are the great characters, the great themes that make these holidays and But let’s not lose the part of the story or the characters that can perhaps teach us most about God and God’s will for us and what God wants us to know about ourselves. Let’s not look past the shepherds and the innkeeper and Joseph. Minor players to the story it seems, just like us, but like us, mighty important to God. Listen for God’s voice. |
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