Comings
and Goings
Sunday, January 6, 2013
Isaiah 60:1-6
Ephesians 3:1-6
Matthew 2:1-6
I know
where you’re coming from.
It’s a common, homely phrase, and it is a bit handier
than the more grammatically correct, “I know the place from which you come.”
It’s an affirmation that we might use to let others know that we appreciate
their position, that we are listening, that we are trying to see how things
look on their side of their own eyeballs.
“I know where you’re coming from.” But
do we? Where are we coming from, and
knowing that, will it help us get wherever it is we are headed? One task of our
religious faith is to move us, to get us along on our way. All three Bible
readings today refer us to comings and goings, each in its own way. And each
brings alive a new perspective on the fact that no matter where we’ve been or
where we are headed, God comes to us.
God Comes
If we think on Advent-themed readings
in Isaiah, we ought at least to know where Isaiah was “coming from.” A pretty
good five letter word for it would be gloom.
After years of captivity by their enemies, far from Palestine, in exile in
Babylon, the people of the promises had just about become the people kept on
the premises. Many Israelites were entirely ready to sink down roots in Babylon
and just get on with whatever life was to be had there. Two generations of
Israel’s children had been bom never having seen the promised land.
Then comes this enchanting word of
Isaiah: “Arise! Shine! for your light has come!” Eight times in chapter 60,
Isaiah uses the word “glory.”[1]
Now, that’s a much misunderstood Bible word. Ask an average person what “glory”
means, and you are likely to see head scratching before you hear an answer.
It’s a floor wax; it’s something a football star gets; it’s the name of an old
movie about the War Between the States.
But the Old Testament most commonly
uses the word “glory” to refer to times when people sensed God’s presence in a
special way. Now the dead last place anyone expected to find even
a hint of God, let alone a shred of the glory of his presence, was in the midst
of their exile in Babylon. Yet, there it was. No need to set out in search of
the enlightenment of God. It has come to us. It was an early sense of what
believers have come to know over the generations: no matter where we may be, or
be coming from, God comes to us as
redeemer, as savior, as one who can make even the most hopeless situation new
all over again.
How does God come to us? Often, not as
we might expect. Tucked away in the 3rd and 6th verses of Isaiah’s prophecy are
these words,
And nations
shall come to your light,
and kings to
the brightness of your rising.
They shall
bring gold and frankincense,
and shall proclaim the praise of the Lord.
It is one of many clues in the Old
Testament that the glory of God is not reserved only for chosen people, but
that chosen people are the vehicles by which the glory of God might come to all
people everywhere. It is because of this Isaiah text that we sing “We three
kings...” Matthew doesn’t mention
kings at all. God comes, we know that. Isaiah affirms it. But where are we
going once he has touched our lives? For that, we can turn to Ephesians.
God Comes to All
Paul’s word in Ephesians confirms
emphatically what Isaiah’s prophecy had only suggested. The coming of Christ was such an important event,
it couldn’t be reserved for the people of Israel alone, but was destined to be
the means by which all people, Jews and Gentiles, might come to know the glory
of God’s redeeming presence. While the New Testament problem in Paul’s time was
to get Jewish Christians to make room for Gentile Christians in their
gatherings, it is certainly not our problem. In our time the problem is getting
Gentile Christians to make room for other
Gentiles!
Am I right about this? Just consider
that the old mainline Christian denominations have been dwindling away rather
pathetically during the last thirty-five years. We can be thankful that some
churches have found ways to maintain their membership over the last decade, but
these churches have been the exception. And some of the denominations which
have grown dramatically have not been without a host of their own troubles and
strife. What has been lost in the shuffle? People. People have been lost when churches
and denominations place institutional survival above serving the people God
places around them. Does God need lots more Presbyterians? Well, I believe God
could use lots more Presbyterians,
but not half as desperately as God seeks out more people who have felt the tug
of the gospel good news to bring that news to others from deeply convicted
hearts.
There is an old story about a king
named Ebrahim ibn Adam. Ebrahim was wealthy according to every earthly measure.
At the same time, however, he strove sincerely and restlessly to be wealthy
spiritually as well.
One night the king was roused from
sleep by a fearful stomping on the roof above his bed. Alarmed, he shouted:
“Who’s there?” “A friend,” came the reply from the roof. “I’ve lost my camel.”
Perturbed by such stupidity, Ebrahim screamed: “You fool! Are you looking for a
camel on the roof?” “You fool” the
voice from the roof replied. “Are you looking for God in silk clothing, and
lying on a golden bed?"[2]
Where are we going to go once God has
found us? Where are we coming from? From the comfort of the pews of this
beautiful church, of an unstudied religious faith that we may not have bothered
to probe for a quarter of a century (this is a subtle boost for adult Christian
education!)? From the comfortable point of view of people who are safely “in
the kingdom” while thousands in our own community haven’t yet found the front
door of a church?
From a prison cell where he was sent
for the crime of proclaiming his faith, Paul suggested in the letter to the Ephesians
that we might find God more readily if we accepted that our calling as
Christians includes a responsibility to tell others about the Word of Life with
conviction.
In Coming, God Prepares Us To Be Sent
One last story, then I’ll stop. Our
third passage, from Matthew, reminds me of one old legend about the three Magi
who came seeking Jesus. In it the three of them are drawn together by their
common vision of the beautiful star that bids them to seek a newborn king. They
follow this star across deserts, mountains, and plains, until it stands over a
grotto in Bethlehem. But when they look into the grotto they see only a young
peasant woman and her husband with a newborn child. They turn away in
disappointment. After they have gone some distance, however, they discover they
have lost the star and with it the memory of where they have been. They are
lost between a forgotten homeland and a vanished destination.
Overwhelmed by a sense of despair, they
realize they have allowed their earthbound judgment to lead them astray from finding the new thing God
would bring to pass. Despondent,
they come upon an old well. It is a well known to the local people by
the brilliant reflections it
produces. They collapse in despair at the side of the well until one of
the three, hoping to quench his thirst, looks into the depths of the well and
there finds the reflection of the lost star! Looking back into the sky, they
see the star again. They are led back to the grotto where they pay homage to
the hidden king, born where the standards of the world would least expect to
find him.[3]
This is the king we serve. No matter the land, the
culture, the life experiences from which we come, this is the king who joins us
on our journey to wherever we are going. He comes. He comes to all. And he
opens in us a new possibility for fuller life through ministry in his name.
