Sermon for the Green Lake Church of Seventh-day Adventists
December 22, 2012
(Preliminary manuscript)
Text: Matthew 2:1-15, The Wise Men.
Jesus needed help. The way Ellen White tells the story, it took scholars to deliver it. She describes the Magi as wealthy, philosopher-scholars. I like that.
In Matthew's gospel, when Jesus was
born, nobody noticed. In that world, half of kids died before age
five. Who knew whether this child would be one of the lucky ones to
make it?
At the end of chapter one, as readers,
we know this child is a Divine Being, the Son of David, the Son of
Abraham, the Messiah of God, the carrier of an extraordinary mission.
As readers we also know that the specialness of this child is
perfectly invisible. We—the church, people who are already
believers—we know who he is, but how would people in his
neighborhood know?
Maybe the religious leaders will give
some kind of signal that God has arrived in the person of the baby of
Bethlehem? Nope. Is the local king prepared to recognize the
legitimacy of another claimant to the throne of David? Fat chance!
So at the end of chapter one, all we
have in support of Jesus' status is Matthew's genealogy and Joseph's
dream.
Then at the beginning of chapter two,
mysterious strangers from the east show up in Jerusalem asking about
the birth of a king whose star they've seen.
If these strangers had been shepherds
no one would have paid them any attention. If they had been inn
keepers from Bethlehem, yawn. But these strangers weren't shepherds
or inn keepers. They were the Magi. The Wise Men. The Three Kings of
the Orient. You can read various commentators' theories about the
precise identity of these strangers. The central point Matthew makes
is this: They commanded attention. The whole city of Jerusalem was
stirred by their quest. Their status mattered.
Because of their status, Jesus' was
marked as a special child. The wealth of the strangers' gifts funded
the flight of the Holy Family to Egypt.
Jesus needed help. Help that only high
status, wealthy patrons could give.
Jesus still needs the help of Kings,
Wise Men and Magi.
In the mid 80s my personal introduction
to AIDS came in a phone call from a church member. I could tell from
Ron's voice that something was wrong. He had been to the doctor. He
began talking in circles, unable to name the horror. I knew secret
parts of his story, so as gently as I could I asked if the doctor had
found Karposi's sarcoma. Yes. Had they diagnosed AIDS? Yes.
In those days, it was a death sentence.
More than that, a diagnosis of AIDS was an entrance into the abyss.
The person became untouchable. When I visited Ron in the hospital, I
was required to gown, glove and mask.
The disease was unspeakable. Ron went
home to die. In the world his parents lived in, AIDS was regarded as
the curse of God. His parents never said the word AIDS out loud.
Jesus needed some help. He needed some
one to touch Ron. To show him affection. To be willing to name the
disease and still to bless Ron as a treasured son of God.
That help could have been provided by
anyone with a generous heart.
But Jesus wanted more.
Jesus touched lepers, showing his
gracious favor. But Jesus did more than that. He healed lepers. And
Jesus wanted to heal people with AIDS.
Helping Jesus heal AIDS takes far more
than than a generous heart.
Jesus needs Magi, scholars, smart
people willing to spend years and years in school earning a Ph. D.
Jesus needs laboratories and grants.
AIDS is no longer an automatic death
sentence, at least not here, not in places with appropriate medical
care. But Jesus is not finished. Jesus is not satisfied that AIDS is
now routinely and effectively treated in some populations. Jesus is
worried about the rest of humanity.
According to Partners in Health, Paul
Farmer's organization, there are 12 million orphans in Africa because
of AIDS. Jesus needs help responding to that tragic reality.
Jesus needs virologists. And
economists. Epidemiologists. He needs legislators and presidents who
will pursue policies that permanently improve the economic and social
conditions of their people.
Jesus needs business people who will
create income-producing jobs and manufacturers who will produce
quality products.
Jesus needs the Magi—smart people
with generous hearts and bold spirits, wealthy scholars who dare to
chase dreams.
Kids, Jesus needs you. Especially if
you're bright. Especially if you have the gifts of drive and focus
and intellect that will allow you to earn a Ph. D. and serve the
world.
Some of you connect with this story
through your life time of professional service, healing people,
building houses, maintaining the transportation infrastructure of the
region. You have invested decades in designing and maintaining the
systems that support our well-being and quality of life.
Jesus is pleased with you. Your service
connects with the Christmas story celebrates God's involvement with
the messiness of life.
In Matthew's gospel, the Christmas
story honors the Canaanite prostitute Rahab, who did what she could
to protect life. Matthew pays homage to Ruth, the Moabitess, for her
generosity to her mother-in-law. He mentions Boaz, the successful
business man and Eliub, the perfect nobody. So we are all included in
the glory of Christmas.
Matthew climaxes his telling of the
Christmas story with his report on a group of wealthy, risk-taking,
adventurous scholars. This is a special message to a certain portion
of the population of Green Lake Church.
Today, we are saying Godspeed to Jenny
as she heads to South Africa to continue her AIDS research. We salute
you, Jenny for helping Jesus.
In the light of the story of the Wise
Men, the scholars who came to the aid of Jesus, I wish a special
blessing to all of you whose lives are devoted to study and learning.
Jesus is counting on you. Keep it up.
2 comments:
Jesus also needs the less-than-bright kids.
@KatZ. You are totally, absolutely right. Hopefully last week's sermon made that point. I think in church we sometimes focus on the "needy" is ways that fail to call out the best in the gifted.
God needs and values us all.
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