Finding Jesus, Finding God

Finding Jesus, Finding God

Preliminary manuscript for the sermon at Green Lake Church of Seventh-day Adventists

For Sabbath, December 21, 2013

Isaiah 58:6-11

Matthew 2:1-11

Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the reign of King Herod. About that time some wise men from eastern lands arrived in Jerusalem, asking, "Where is the newborn king of the Jews? We saw his star as it rose, and we have come to worship him." Matthew 2:1-2

This fall when I headed out in the mornings before dawn, I saw something strange. The constellation Gemini had an extra star. I have spent decades star gazing, matching points of light in the sky with diagrams in star charts. By now the major constellations are like old friends in the sky. Sometimes all I need to see are a couple of stars and I instinctively know the rest of the pattern. So when I looked east and saw an “extra” star in the constellation of Gemini, I knew something was up. I figured it was a planet which had “wandered” into this part of the sky for awhile.

When I checked the star chart on my tablet sure enough, the “new star” was Jupiter.

I imagine it was something like this for the Wise Men. They had spent a life time watching the sky. And in their world there was no light pollution and few clouds. The whole would have been familiar territory. So when a new star appeared, they were immediately transfixed.

Was it “the Star?” The star of Balaam's prophecy?

There shall a star rise out of Jacob

And a scepter shall rise out of Israel.

Numbers 24:17

Tradition says there were three wise men. Rich old men, Persians living in the neighborhood of Babylon. Philosophers/theologians/astrologers/mathematicians. Men who had spent a life time studying ancient prophecies and talking with one another about what those prophecies meant. They had spent decades praying, meditating, worshiping. Their entire lives they had been on a quest, a quest for God. They had cultivated a restless dream of the triumph of righteousness. They dreamed of a world filled with peace and justice, happiness and health.

The Jewish religion had a well-developed vision of a Messiah. Other religions of that time and place also had dreams of a Great King who would set things right. It's likely these pagan philosopher/theologian/mathematician/astrologers happily combined ideas from all of the available religions in support of their vision of the triumph of goodness.

These men stubbornly believed that some day, somehow God would show up, goodness would triumph. The ancient prophecies they paid attention to were the words that fueled this bright dream.

Then they saw the star. There was no mistaking its newness. The sky in their world was black at night. The stars brilliant. They knew the patterns of stars. This was new. And given their life time of dreaming, praying, studying, speculating, contemplation, they immediately identified this star as a summons.

It's 900 miles more or less from Babylon to Jerusalem, no afternoon lark. It would be a major expedition. It would cost a fortune. But what is money for if not chasing dreams?

How long did it take to put together the expedition? How many people were in the caravan? How many camels? How many camel drivers? How many cooks? How many attendants?

The most likely route for the caravan was up the Euphrates River, then eventually south, down through Damascus, then to Tyre out on the coast, then south into Judea and Jerusalem.

In Jerusalem, they asked, “Where is the new king that has been born?”

The arrival of these personages from the East asking about a new king set the city buzzing. A new king? How could that be? But there must be something to it. These guys have traveled 900 miles to ask that question. You don't travel 900 miles for nothing. The Wise Men spoke of the Star which would have been meaningful in that culture. They talked of ancient prophecies—again, highly credible

King Herod was especially concerned. His claim to the throne was never completely secure.

He questioned the Wise Men about the star and their studies of prophecies. Then sent them off to continue their quest with instructions to report back to Herod when they found the child.

The star reappeared and led the Wise Men to a house in Bethlehem. There they found Joseph, Mary and Baby Jesus. The Wise Men paid homage. They gave their gifts—gifts worthy of a king. Then satisfied, they headed for home. Happy. Satisfied.

In a sense Christmas is an annual reappearance of an extraordinary star, a planet that wanders across the familiar background of our lives, asking us to check our dreams, inviting us to return again to our quest for God. Christmas reinvigorates our best ambitions. Christmas insists God is here.

God has not forgotten us. God has not forgotten the children of the Central African Republic or the women of Saudi Arabia and India. God has not forgotten the people trying to pay their rent and feed their kids on the money they earn working at McDonalds and Walmart. God has not forgotten the old men wrestling with questions of faith. God has not forgotten the mothers caring for special needs kids or the people coping with their spouse's mental illness.

Imagine we had lived next door to Mary and Joseph and Jesus in Bethlehem. We were there when the Wise Men showed up. Wouldn't we have been surprised? We knew who lived next door. They were regular people. A cute kid. Yes. But a king? No way. God????????? Are you kidding?

Christmas says that child next door in Bethlehem was God.

Then Christmas challenges us to see again the people around us. The woman who shares your bank account and bedroom? Christmas invites us to see the divine in her. Can you do it?

The man you live with: Can you see the divine in him?

The children in your house or across the street? The kids you see on the bus or read about in the newspaper. Not the beautiful kids, not the bright ones, not the responsible ones, not the kids who keep their rooms clean and do their homework without prompting—the other kids: can you see the divine in them?

Christmas invites us to go on a quest to find God, to encounter God. Then Christmas adds this bit of wisdom: You will find him wrapped in a baby blanket, sleeping in a makeshift crib.

This week I received an email from an old friend. It detailed his life-long quest for God. It's a story I've heard before, a story marked with perplexity and pain. I think of him as one of the Wise Men, constantly probing for clearer understanding, refusing conventional ideas of God that violate his deep sense of who a Good God must be. Constantly scanning the skies for a brighter vision.

I cannot answer all my friend's questions. I cannot even answer all my own questions. But this journey of the Wise Men gives one clear point of light.

When we go questing for God, the first place to look is at the ordinary people next door, or the people working at McDonalds or Walmart, or the people washing dishes at the restaurant that serves you your next meal.

God sometimes grants people a vision that transcends this world. They see a star and know that it is a direct message from heaven. But for most of us, finding God will mean learning to see people with the eyes of God.

Christmas can help us do that.

In our worship these last weeks we have ceremonially lighted the Advent Candles. They call us to renew our dreams of peace and the triumph of God's love. They invite us to light our world, joining our efforts to the intentions of God. They invite us to fill our eyes with the light of heaven so that our lives will be radiant.