Stealing Jesus

St. Paul’s United Methodist Church          

Matthew 2: 1-12                Rev. Marianne Niesen                January 3, 2010

 

The seeds for today’s sermon were sown last June.  It was my week for working on worship plans and one afternoon, I was browsing through a book store when a children’s book caught my eye. I really don’t remember if it was the picture on the front or the size of the book or the author (Frank McCourt of Angela’s Ashes fame) - or, perhaps, that it was on a good sale.  In any case, I picked it up and was soon caught up in the story. When I finished, I knew this story would form the basis for my Epiphany sermon.

 

On Epiphany, we celebrate the visit of the Magi to the child Jesus in Bethlehem. While the feast marks the end of our Christmas celebration in the West, in the Eastern traditions, Epiphany is Christmas.  In fact Orthodox churches will be celebrating Christmas eve this Tuesday and Christmas day on Wednesday, January 6th, the official celebration day for Epiphany.   In shorthand, Epiphany is about the ‘showing’ or the ‘revealing’ of the Christ child to the world.  The Magi - and if you listened carefully, you noticed that Matthew doesn’t tell us how many there were (that’s a later tradition) - represented the world beyond Bethlehem - indeed, beyond Israel itself.  Their visit was evidence that the birth of Jesus had meaning far beyond his own family, his people, his culture, his faith.  Even foreigners, visitors from the East, recognized his specialness.  Not only that - these foreign visitors were welcome at the crib.  God’s gift knew no limit.  For me, however, my favorite part of the story comes at the very end - it is the part where Matthew tells us that, after visiting Jesus, the Magi were told in a dream not to return to Herod (a no-brainer) and that they then went home by another route. These visitors didn’t stay around - but their direction was changed - which is, I believe, the fundamental challenge and question posed by the Epiphany for all of us.  How are we changed by the birth of Jesus?  Does Christmas make a difference in our lives January to November? 

 

And now, the story, Angela and the Baby Jesus by Frank McCourt.  McCourt, (who died last July) was the Irish author of Angela’s Ashes, his Pulitzer Prize winning first book about growing up in a poor Irish Catholic family.  Angela was his mother and he dedicated his children’s book to “ the memory of my mother, Angela, who told a story that lodged in my seven-year old mind.”

 

Note to readers of this sermon: due to copyright restrictions, I cannot reprint the book here. The plot is simple and can be summarized as follows:

Six year old Angela worries that the Baby Jesus feels cold in the nativity scene at the church, so she devises a way to smuggle him home and warm him up.  Inevitably, she is found out, and must return him to the church, under the watchful eye of her parents, law enforcement and the local parish priest - all of whom are clearly moved by the whole event.  Of course, in McCourt’s hands, the story is endearing, profound and engaging, combining Irish wit, humor and insight. 

 

The story ends with these words . . . when she put the Baby Jesus back in the crib, he smiled the way he always did and held out his arms to the world.

 

Epiphany is the celebration of that embrace - those arms outstretched to the world. You see, the Magi who visited the crib crashed a private party and were never the same after. They returned to their homes by another route. Their lives were changed somehow and whenever that happens, the world is changed as well. Their story is meant to inspire ours so that we not allow the message of Jesus to stay in the crib, contained and protected. The good news of Jesus, the embrace of God, is meant to make a difference in our lives. It is to spur action. Indeed, we need to be about the business of stealing Jesus, of hearing and living his message up close and personal.

 

Within days - or perhaps hours - the Christmas decorations will come down. Life will get back on schedule. Like the magi, we will return to our own lands, our own agendas, our own stories. The question is . . . have we been changed? Softened a little? Opened up to the needs of the world? Aware of the vulnerability of our children - and of all children? Concerned about making the world warmer, safer, brighter for us all? Have we learned to be generous? Have we grasped the joy of giving and the humility of receiving? It is always a risk to steal Jesus - it is much easier to protect him - but stealing Jesus and sharing good news is the work of Christmas. Are we ready? As Howard Thurman so eloquently wrote years ago . . .

When the song of angels is stilled,

When the star in the sky is gone,

When the kings and princes are departed,

When the shepherds are back with their flocks,

The work of Christmas begins:

To find the lost

To heal the broken

To feed the hungry

To release the prisoner

To rebuild peace among all

To make music for all to hear.

 

There is a chill in more than the air these days. Dare we commit to the work of Christmas, to the work of warming the world with an embrace of God’s love and grace that really can make a difference?