“Collateral Damage” (Matthew 2:13-23)

“Collateral damage” is injury inflicted on something other than an intended target.  The term is typically used in war and military conflicts.  It refers to the civilian casualties of innocent people who get caught up in the crossfire of the conflict.  It has been said that this is the price of waging war . . . innocent lives ruined and killed.

One would not think that there would be “collateral damage” when it comes to the Christmas story.  Yet here we are on the eighth day of the church’s liturgical season of Christmas, and we are confronted with “collateral damage”.  This is not quite what one would expect about the Christmas story, but as we learned last week the Christmas story is more complicated and twisted than one would expect.  During the season of Christmas, you would think that the faithful would be reflecting upon the beauty and grandeur of it all.  After all, it is a beautiful story.  But then the writer of the Gospel of Matthew hits us with another twist in the story that complicates life for those involved and those who happened to be unaware of what is even going on.  The plot twists and turns away from the celebratory desires the faithful might have.

 

We learn of the “collateral damage”.

 

Nowhere else in the scriptures do we learn the details of this part of the Christmas story.  No, it is only found in Matthew’s gospel.  This morning the story picks up after the Magi have paid homage to the baby Jesus.  They have left to return to their own homelands and to get as far away from King Herod as possible.  Shortly after they have left Joseph is told by an angel to take his small family and hightail it to Egypt.  He is to do this because King Herod plans on killing the child.  Wasting no time Joseph, Mary, and Jesus immediately leave to take up residency in Egypt.

 

Of course, the writer tells us that this is done because it fulfills the prophecy: “Out of Egypt I called my son.”

 

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, King Herod realizes that he has been tricked by the Magi . . . that they weren’t returning to share the location of the child.  Not knowing which child is the one the prophets spoke of Herod decided there is only one way to rid himself of this threat—kill them all.  Herod immediately issues a decree that all the male children two years and younger were to be killed.  Surely a clean sweep would produce the desired results.  Again, the writer tells us that this is as the prophets had said. 

 

Eventually Herod dies.  An angel again appears to Joseph and tells him it is safe to return home.  As they are journeying back to Israel, Joseph learns that Herod’s son, Archelaus, was now the new king.  Fearing him Joseph decides that it would be safer to take his family to Nazareth in Galilee and establish a home . . . of which the writer reminds us of is as the prophets spoke.  That the “chosen one” would be called a Nazarene.

 

Thus ends the Christmas story as the Gospel of Matthew shares it.  Its not quite the stuff of a Hallmark movie.  This is not what we really want to focus on as we celebrate the Christmas season . . . and yet, there it is in black and white.  There is no denying the mess and pain that take place.  The frustration of it all.  The “collateral damage”.

 

So many lives are touched and changed forever because of the jealousy and fear held by one person who believe he was losing everything—especially his power.  Herod sets off a series of events that touch the lives of many and changes them forever.

 

First, there is Joseph, Mary, and the child.  Instead of going home to be surrounded by family and friends . . . well, they become strangers in a strange land . . . people fleeing for refuge to live another day.  This must have been upsetting to them all.  Had to be frightening—it was scary.  Had to feel crazy.  But you do what you must do to keep your family safe, protected, and intact.  Egypt was the goal until that day it was safe to return.  These were the first victims of “collateral damage”.

 

Second, there were the innocent children . . . those boys who were two years old and under.  There were their mothers and fathers, the siblings, the communities . . . all who loved these children.  With Herod’s decree a generation of males was wiped out.  The pain of it all was unbearable.  There was nothing that would console the people of their loss.  As the prophet Jeremiah said:

 

“A voice is heard in Ramah,

    weeping and great mourning,

Rachel weeping for her children

    and refusing to be comforted,

    because they are no more.”

 

 

This too was “collateral damage”.

 

Then lastly, it is again the family of Jesus that is touched and uprooted once again.  They are called to leave the land of Egypt and return home.  But they cannot return home . . . it is not safe.  So once again they move to a place that is not familiar . . . not home . . . and take up residency.  They are called upon to start over one more time.  It is not the way they had imagined . . . not the way it should be, but the way that it was.  Again, it fulfills a prophecy.

 

There are lots of twists and turns to the Christmas story.  It is a darker story than we allow ourselves to observe and celebrate.  It is filled with pain and frustration . . . filled with broken dreams . . . broken hearts.  There does not seen to a whole lot of “good news” in this version of Christmas as served up by the writer of the Gospel of Matthew.  And yet, it is there for us in black and white . . . it has led us to where we are today . . . and, surprisingly, there is “good news”.

 

That “good news” is that despite it all . . . despite all the crud that happens . . . God is still there.  God is still there beside us no matter what is thrown our way.  And though it seems as if God is far off in those moments and times in life in which there seems to be no light . . . no hope . . . God is still with us.  Loving us.  Caring for us.

 

We all know that there is often more to a story than we are told or that we know.  We all know that we do not share all the gory details of our lives . . . especially when life is kicking us in the teeth and making it hard to even get out of bed in the morning.  We all know that all of us are good at putting our best sides out there for the public when inside . . . within our hearts . . . we are barely hanging on for dear life.  We all know the “collateral damage” that touches our lives.  None of us have been immune to “collateral damage” because we know that life happens . . . and life is not smooth sailing no matter how many times we have been sold that stuff.

 

Life is hard.  In the hardness of life, we have all wondered where God in all of this is.  Isn’t that what Joseph and Mary wondered as their lives were being turned upside down repeatedly?  Isn’t that what those parents, families, and communities were wondering when their sons were ripped from their arms and put to death?  Haven’t we all wondered?  And in the end that is probably more a question about ourselves than it is about God.

 

God is always with us . . . always.  We aren’t always with God.

 

The late Reverend William Sloane Coffin gave a eulogy for his son, Alex, who died tragically after a night on the town in which he accidentally drove his car off a darken road into the Boston Harbor.  As with any parent who lost a child to death there was the question of “why?”  Also, there were those who came with the “thoughts and prayers” . . . the pat answers when there really are no answers.  And there was the wonder of where God was in all of this.  Some told him that it was “God’s will”.

 

Reverend Coffin said that it wasn’t supposed to be that way.  No parent should outlive a child.  The future was lost.  The present seemed dark.  The grief unbearable.  He stated:

 

For some reason, nothing so infuriates me as the incapacity of seemingly intelligent people to get it through their heads that God doesn’t go around this world with his fingers on triggers, his fists around knives, his hands on steering wheels. God is dead set against all unnatural deaths. And Christ spent an inordinate amount of time delivering people from paralysis, insanity, leprosy, and muteness. Which is not to say that there are no nature-caused deaths — I can think of many right here in this parish in the five years I’ve been here — deaths that are untimely and slow and pain-ridden, which for that reason raise unanswerable questions . . . But violent deaths, such as the one Alex died — to understand those is a piece of cake. As his younger brother put it simply, standing at the head of the casket at the Boston funeral, “You blew it, buddy. You blew it.” The one thing that should never be said when someone dies is “It is the will of God.” Never do we know enough to say that. My own consolation lies in knowing that it was not the will of God that Alex die; that when the waves closed over the sinking car, God’s heart was the first of all our hearts to break.

 

We are the “collateral damage” that comes with living life.  Life is tough.  But we are not alone.  God is with us . . . each step of the way.  We are never alone.  God’s grace and love surround us.  It is what gets us through the night.  Amen.

 

“The Messiness of Christmas" (Matthew 1:18-25)

Life is a journey and adventure.  It is filled with turns, ups, downs, and mysteries.  It has it good and its bad moments.  It can be peaceful and chaotic.  It can be full of laughter or of tears.  It can produce anxiety and have its moments of calm.  There is life, and there is death.  It is full of surprises.  It is never boring and often it is scary.  Life is never quite what we expected but is often more than we ever imagined.  But most of all, life is messy.

 

I think you know the truth in that statement . . . life is messy.  We are all old enough to understand the complexities of life.    We have lived it and know its reality.  Life does not always stack up to our expectations . . . and yet we dream, hope, and continue to live despite how messy life may be.

 

The season of Advent is built upon expectation.  The people of God have been under a militaristic rule . . . a rule that was cruel and crushing.  Yet they dreamed of the One who was to come . . . to come and set them free and re-establish the kingdom as it once was. Make them a great nation once again.  It had been a long journey fill with many bumps, but there was hope . . . hope for the One who was to come.

 

At least that is what the people were expecting.  What they got wasn’t quite what they expected.  They had forgotten that life is messy.

 

This morning we pick up the story from the Gospel of Matthew.  It is the birth story of Jesus.  Short, sweet, and to the point unlike the other gospels we know so well . . . no shepherds, no heavenly choirs, none of the wise men.  It is what it is.  It is no wonder then with its brevity that this story is not the most popular among the faithful.  The problem is that it sticks to the facts and only the facts.

 

Remember the old television show Dragnet?  Whenever the detective, Joe Friday, questions anyone in an investigation he only wants the “facts”.  He is constantly saying, “Just the facts . . . just the facts.”  Therein lies the problem with Matthew’s version of the birth story . . . it just the “facts”!  And the facts shared in the Gospel of Matthew are nothing like one would expect the story of a Savior . . . of a Holy One . . . starting out.  Instead of some beautiful flowing story the facts reveal what a real mess the reality is.  It is a mess!

 

Remember, life is messy.  Why should we expect anything less in the Christmas story? 

 

Here is the story in a nutshell: A man is pledged, betrothed, engaged—you pick the word you want to use—to a woman.  Before the marriage is consummated the man discovers that his wife is pregnant . . . assumingly from another man.  Angry and disgraced by the woman the man compassionately decides to quietly divorce the woman.  Once accomplished he would get on with his life.  In a dream the man is told by an angel that he is to honor the engagement and take the woman completely as his wife even though she is pregnant.  The angel even tells him that the two of them would name the child Jesus.  Upon waking the man did just as he was told to do . . . and the story begins!

 

This wasn’t like anything that Joseph had envisioned.  He thought that everything would go as planned . . . he and Mary would get through the year, join their two households together, consummate their marriage, and get on with life.  He never thought that he would wake up one day and be confronted with a pregnant partner.  He had been betrayed.  The scandal of it all! 

 

One of the problems with this story is that too often we look at it through our eyes in our times.  This story did not take place in the present moment . . . it happened in another time and place.  A time and place quite different from ours.  Take for example the idea of marriage.  According to the time and culture the story takes place, engagement is a contractual agreement . . . a legally binding union between two people and their families.  It is the promise of marriage.  What it involved was typically a year of relationship before the two households were joined together at which time they would move in together and consummate their relationship as husband and wife. 

 

Imagine the shock and turmoil Joseph must have felt on discovering that Mary was pregnant.  It could only mean one thing as far as Joseph was concerned . . . his espoused wife had been unfaithful.  She had cheated.  Basically, Joseph reacted as any person would in such a situation . . . he wanted out. He had to consider his options, of which he had two: public stoning or divorce.  Considering his options, he decides on divorce because he did not want any harm to come to Mary.  He hopes that he can do it quietly and out of the public’s view.  Remember, he was a righteous man as we are told.

 

Whatever the case . . . it is a mess.  This is not the story we are accustomed to when it comes to Christmas.  It is not the beauty and wonder of the birth of Jesus . . . it is a mess!  We cannot deny the distress, sense of betrayal, disappointment, and a host of other emotions Joseph must have been experiencing . . . nor can we turn away from Mary and what she must have been feeling—the hurt and fear—as the two of them attempted to sort out their relationship. 

 

You see, Mary and Joseph are not merely characters in a fairytale story yanked from the stained-glass window, but they are flesh and blood people.  They are just like you and me . . . they are one of us with ups and downs to their relationships.  They go through all sorts of things, some that are quite damaging . . . some good, some bad.  They have their highs and lows.  Life is messy.

 

Think about the whole story . . . the census call . . . no room in the inn . . . a manger in a stable . . . a bunch of strangers showing up at the birth . . . three men warning the parents to hightail it out of the country because King Herod was out for their child . . . a trip to a foreign land as strangers in a strange place seeking safety.  There is nothing typical in this story . . . nothing standard . . . it seems like one mess after another.  This is the messiness in which the Christmas story is told . . . it is life as it happens.  Life is messy!

 

And it is out of this messiness that God parlays it all towards accomplishing God’s purposes.  It is an extraordinary story and promise that God comes through ordinary, mixed-up people—just like us--in order to save ordinary, mixed up people . . . and that God comes through a birth like all the millions of other births in the world to promise us freedom from sin, fear, and death and rebirth as the children of God.  After all, Jesus was born like we were . . . Jesus came as one of us.  He lived life just as we do with all its messiness.  Through it all he showed us the way.

 

Yet we get ahead of ourselves. 

 

This is the story of Jesus’ birth as shared by the writer of the Gospel of Matthew.  It is a simple story without all the bright and flashing lights . . . no heavenly choirs . . . no shepherds or wise men . . . no shining star.  It is a simple story based on the facts of a relationship that hit a bump in the road and got messy.  Out of the messiness God saves us.  Too often we miss this because we are too busy lamenting our fate of the messiness of our lives as we journey onward.  Yet God even makes something out of the mess.  That is the miracle of Christmas.

 

As the writer reminds us from the words of the prophet: “The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel.” Immanuel means “God with us”.  Through it all, God is with us!  Yes, God is!  Amen!

 

“The Advent Contradiction” (Isaiah 11:1-10)

 

Expectations can be killers.

 

As a kid I can remember sitting at the kitchen table devouring not only the cereal but the box that it came it.  On the box was one of those “life-time” offerings of a revolutionary battleship.  A detailed picture of the ship took up most of the back of the box.  Sails were flapping in the wind.  Cannons were smoking.  It was a sight to behold and a dream to have.  All one had to do to get this replica of the battleship was to send in three box tops and a couple of dollars . . . both of which were hard to come by as a kid. 

 

Three box tops, a couple of bucks . . . and it was yours.  Thus began my campaign to get the battleship.  I moaned and groaned that I had to have the battleship.  I proclaimed that I couldn’t live unless I had the battleship.  I threw “puppy dog” eyes at my parents.  I was relentless until my parents finally broke, proclaiming, “Anything if you will quit bothering us!”  And so it was that I plowed through three boxes of what I would say was sub-par cereal, scrounged up the money, and sent off my request for my very own battleship.

 

It was weeks before a package from the cereal company finally arrived.  Coming home from school, my mother said that my ship had come in . . . that it was on the kitchen table.  Running into the kitchen, I looked at the table and saw a small package . . . way too small to be a grand battleship.  So, I asked my mother where it was and she said, “Right there on the table.”  Things weren’t looking good in the battleship department.

 

Slowly I opened the package only to reveal a small toy . . . the size of a Matchbox car . . . of a ship.  All the wind was sucked out of my sails.  This was not what I was expecting . . . not at all.  I was so disappointed.  I was suckered while the cereal company made a couple of bucks off me.  Never again did I ever order anything off a box of cereal.  What I received was a contradiction.  It was nothing like expected.

 

But isn’t life full of contradictions?

 

During the season of Advent, we are charged with two tasks: prepare ourselves for the coming of the Christ Child and to prepare ourselves for the coming of Jesus.  The Christmas story is set in a time when the Israelites were under the rule of the Romans who proved to be tough taskmasters and formidable rulers.  It was not a pleasant time in the history of the people who felt oppressed, disregarded, and forgotten by God.  Yet, at the same time, they remember the stories of the prophets . . . the promises of one who would come and free them from their oppression and re-establish the kingdom.  Thus, there was still hope.

 

It is in this scenario that the Christmas story is set.

 

Expectations and contradictions will abound in the story!

 

I am not sure why we humans are the way that we are, but when it comes to these sorts of stories our expectations are usually out of this world.  Typically, they are nothing like the reality we experience.  All of us grew up with the hero riding in on a white horse to rescue the damsel in distress . . . flashing the pearly whites and subduing the bad guys before riding off into the sunset.  So, it was for the Israelites at the time of the Christmas story.  They had dreams of a heroic warrior king riding into their world, freeing them from oppression, and establishing a new kingdom . . . a better kingdom—one where the streets were paved in gold and its people being prosperous--before riding off into the sunset.

 

At least that was their expectation.  What they received was a contradiction.  There was no white horse.  No fiery warrior.  No flashing pearly whites.  Not even a sunset!  Instead, they got some baby in a manger in some outback town in the middle of nowhere.  It wasn’t quite what the people were expecting.  So, they end up waiting . . .

 

The story really doesn’t pick up again until the baby grows up to be an adult . . . a carpenter to be exact.  A carpenter who has a message from God to establish a new kingdom . . . God’s kingdom, and who goes forth into the world sharing this message through his words and his actions.  Again, it is not quite what the people were expecting . . . in fact it was quite the opposite . . . a contradiction.  Where was the warrior king?  Where was the white horse?  The pearly whites?

 

None of it was anywhere to be found.  Instead, they got this contradiction.  We humans don’t always listen as well as we should, or we hear only what we want to hear.  Such is the case for the Israelites . . . they were either not listening or only heard what they wanted to hear from the words, stories, and prophecies the prophets shared.

 

Take for example the words from the prophet Isaiah this morning in our scripture reading.  The prophet is speaking about the one who is to come and rescue the people from their oppression.  It is nothing like the hero’s myth the people are expecting.  First, the hero will come from an unexpected source . . . rising in an unexpected place like “a shoot will come up from the stump” . . . the stump of Jesse.  This hero will not be the sort of warrior or king the people think.  This hero will not be a warring individual who rules through power, might, and violence.  Instead, this individual will be one who rules through wisdom, compassion, love, and grace.  This ruler will be the opposite of what the people expect . . . a contradiction.

 

The prophet states it.  This savior will be a contradiction.

 

The wolf will live with the lamb,

    the leopard will lie down with the goat,

the calf and the lion and the yearling together;

    and a little child will lead them.

The cow will feed with the bear,

    their young will lie down together,

    and the lion will eat straw like the ox.

The infant will play near the cobra’s den,

    and the young child will put its hand into the viper’s nest.

They will neither harm nor destroy

    on all my holy mountain,

for the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the Lord

    as the waters cover the sea.

 

 

This savior will be like nothing they ever imagined.  Yet this will be how God will save the people as the savior is the means of accomplishing the goal of establishing God’s kingdom.  The prophet proclaims: “In that day the Root of Jesse will stand as a banner for the peoples; the nations will rally to him, and his resting place will be glorious.”

 

It is a contradiction we have been dealing with forever as the followers of Jesus.  Every year as we start the Advent season we are reminded of this contradiction as we prepare ourselves for the child to be born in Bethlehem and the return of Jesus.

 

The contradiction comes between our expectations and God’s expectations.  The season of Advent is a one of contradictions.  On the one had we are called upon to prepare ourselves to receive Jesus into our lives as we would receive a child . . . called to welcome the baby.  This is an event that has already happened.  We are also called upon to prepare ourselves for the return of Jesus . . . an event that has yet to happen.  And we are to do all this while acknowledging that Jesus is here with us now.  He is our constant companion in the journey of faith.  It all seems like a confusing mess that we are attempting to sort out.

 

So, how do we approach this season of contradiction?

 

Maybe we start with our expectations.  All of us have had some sort of experience with children and raising children . . . we’ve had some sort of a role whether it is as a parent, grandparent, aunt, uncle, or close friend.  There is magical thinking, expectations, and hopes when it comes to the birth of a child.  There are those thoughts of what we think that child will be like . . . expectations of what we think a child should be like.  Unfortunately, or fortunately, any of us who have dealt with children from birth to adulthood know that what we expect and what we get are two different things when it comes to children.  Children are a constant surprise in how they grow and in who they come to be.  They are never exactly like we expect them to be.

 

Because of that we must prepare ourselves to receive them as they are.  We must prepare ourselves to experience them for who they are as they learn and grow into who God created them to be.  We must ebb and flow with them as they constantly surprise us in the twists and turns of life that make them who they are.  Though they are never quite what we expect them to be, in the end they are who we love them as being.

 

So, it is with receiving the child to be born in Bethlehem.  We prepare ourselves to receive the savior as the savior comes . . . quite different than the popular myths and stories we have grown accustomed to in the heroic realm.  We welcome the real Jesus into our lives.

 

Then we are live our lives as Jesus lived his . . . loving the Lord with our whole being and loving others as God has loved us.  We share the words of Jesus with others.  We act as Jesus acted in grace and love, peace and justice to establish the kingdom of God.  We invite others to join the journey . . . to become a follower of Jesus.  We live.  That is the door to the future and of what is yet to come.  We walk with the Jesus who is present to us today.

 

Our reading this morning reminds us that we are to set aside our preconceived ideas and expectations of what it means to be a person of faith.  To set them aside to receive the grand adventure of walking with Jesus towards the Kingdom of God.  A kingdom that will never meet our expectations because it will exceed them beyond anything we ever imagined.  And, that my friends is “good news” and the promise of what is to come.  Praise God!  Amen!