Tuesday, December 13, 2011

12-11-11 Sermon

To listen, click here.


CHRISTMAS COMES TO A CHURCH

When the time came for their purification according to the law of Moses, they brought him up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord (as it is written in the law of the Lord, “Every firstborn male shall be designated as holy to the Lord”), and they offered a sacrifice according to what is stated in the law of the Lord, “a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons.”  Now there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon; this man was righteous and devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit rested on him.  It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah.  Guided by the Spirit, Simeon came into the temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him what was customary under the law, Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying, “Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel.” 
         And the child’s father and mother were amazed at what was being said about him.  Then Simeon blessed them and said to his mother Mary, “This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul too.” 
         There was also a prophet, Anna the daughter of Phanuel of the tribe of Asher.  She was of a great age, having lived with her husband seven years after her marriage, then as a widow to the age of eighty-four.  She never left the temple but worshiped there with fasting and prayer night and day.  At that moment she came, and began to praise God and to speak about the child to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem.  Luke 2:22-38

A number of years ago a cartoon appeared in a newspaper this time of the year that pictured two shopkeepers in a mall looking at a Salvation Army worker ringing his bell by the red kettle.  The one shopkeeper muttered to the other unhappily, “What will those religious people try next?  Now they’re even horning in on Christmas!”

I suspect that most of us have no idea of the degree to which Christmas has been taken over by commercialism and secularism.  We complain about what’s happening when Christmas promotions begin even around Halloween, but that’s only the tip of the iceberg.  Cards now feature the politically correct “Holiday Greetings” where they once announced “Merry Christmas.”  And they are called “greeting cards” rather than “Christmas cards.”  A governor, I believe in New Hampshire, recently took some heat for calling the Christmas tree in the capitol a holiday tree.  That would be like putting up a menorah and calling it a holiday candelabra. 

Some churches cancel their worship services when Christmas falls on a Sunday—because it is a holiday, or because Christmas is for children.  That will not be the case here at Forest Grove.  To me that’s the ultimate surrender to Santa, Frosty, and Rudolph.

Over the years the two major holy days of the Christian faith, Christmas and Easter, have been so captured by the secular culture and a commitment to political correctness that the cartoon message is correct. What used to be “Holy Days” have become mere “holidays.”  The main show at Christmas, the reason for the season has been commercialized and diffused. 

But you know that the first Christmas was a religious story all the way.  The events unfolded in a magnificent variety of places, including a conversation between cousins in a home, scholars doing research in an ancient think tank, shepherds doing their routine tasks on a chilly hillside at night, wise men attuned with God in a far away land beginning a trek following a star, and an emperor developing a new tax plan.  But the energy of the event that tied all these different elements together was profoundly religious.

It began with human need, as I shared with you in my message on the Scandal of Christmas.  Our ancestors found themselves unable to deal with the problem of sin—an inability that we still have today.  And although we may rename it as mistakes, or lapses in judgment, or some other nicer sounding term, sin is still sin and we are still unable to deal with it.  Christmas was our solution.  God sent a Savior when we could not save ourselves.

And when Quirinius was governor of Syria, and Herod was running a small portion of the Roman Empire under the strong hand of Augustus Caesar, the plot of the ages began to unfold in its lovely, unlikely way in some small towns in a province no larger than the state of New Jersey.  And it began with some people who were quite devoted to God.  Some of them were among the common, everyday people of the land, quite outside the ruling religious caste.  They were earnest in their pursuit of God.  The womb that carried Jesus was that of a Jewish girl who said to an angel, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word”.  And Joseph, the man who so faithfully watched over her was a “righteous man” who denied his own plans in order to fulfill the purposes of God.

Luke’s Gospel tells us how the Christmas event moved from its unlikely and miraculous beginnings into the traditional practices of the Jewish faith, climaxing at last in a house of worship.  Eight days after Jesus was born in Bethlehem, and was heralded by the shepherds who had come in response to the angelic announcement, Joseph and Mary fulfilled the ancient laws of the Jewish people by having their baby boy circumcised.  It was at this point that he was officially given his name, Jesus.

Circumcision was probably the most sacred ceremony of the Jewish people.  It was the symbol of their covenant with God, going back all the way to their key ancestor, Abraham.  By this act, each new generation was declared to be part of the holy covenant.  In Jesus’ day, the ceremony was performed by the child’s father.  Of the event, Luke says simply, “And he was called Jesus, the name given by the angel before he was conceived in the womb.”

Several weeks later, probably when the baby was about 6 weeks old, Joseph and Mary went to the temple for two other ceremonies, the redemption of the first born and the purification after childbirth.  For a devout Jew, these were routine ceremonies following the birth of a child.  The purification ceremony applied primarily to the mother.  The redemption of the firstborn reminded a Jewish family that God had delivered their nation from the bondage of Egypt centuries earlier, and that they owed each firstborn son to the Lord because of this deliverance.  Devout Jews practiced these ceremonies at the time of a child’s birth in the same way a sincere present-day Christian family arranges for a baby to be baptized.

So this is how Jesus was inducted into the faith life of his people from the very beginning of his life.  He was the product of a conventionally religious home.  When he was a boy of 12, he made his first pilgrimage to a religious festival, just as did all Jewish children who were following their faith.  It is significant that the only event that the Scriptures report from the life of Jesus from the time of his birth until he began his ministry at age 30 was a celebration from their religious tradition when he was 12. 

And I am sure that the practice of the traditional faith in Jesus’ day was less than perfect just like it is in the church today.  Jesus’ frequent controversies with the religious leaders of his people, for instance, make clear that many of them were missing the point.  The most prestigious movement within Judaism at the time was that of the Pharisees and we remember most of them now for the way they sought to block Jesus’ ministry.  The other major religious body, the Sadducees, was known for compromising themselves in order to win favor with the pagan Roman government. 

I suspect that the average synagogue in Jesus’ day was not a hotbed of religious fervor and devotion to God.  The synagogue services probably had a sameness, perhaps even a dullness to them.  Nevertheless, Luke tells us in 4:16 that Jesus “went to the synagogue on the Sabbath day, as was his custom.  Jesus went to his church every Sunday.  In spite of the failures of organized religion, Jesus didn’t decide that he could do it better alone.  What does that say to the person who says “I don’t need to go to church”?  Jesus felt he needed to go to church regularly and you don’t?  Hebrews 10:25 says “Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another.”  Jesus brought himself under the weekly discipline of meeting with the people of God.    He felt this was necessary to be encouraged by others and to encourage others. 

In the week in and week out services at the synagogues I imagine that sometimes the speaker or teacher was not that great.  I imagine that sometimes it was boring.  I imagine that sometimes the soloist was off.  I imagine that sometimes they sang a hymn that not many people liked.  I imagine that some people were habitually late or absent.  I imagine that some came for the wrong reasons—they were looking around at others and not even paying attention to what was being said—totally missing the presence of God in their midst.  We read of at least two instances in the Gospels where Jesus encounters a person who is tormented by demons in a synagogue.  The devil comes to church to bother people, to distract people, to take their focus off of God.  

So, there were broken people, tormented people, imperfect people in the synagogues of Jesus’ day.  They might be imperfect people in an imperfect world but they were a people who were seeking, however imperfectly, to follow God.  And among them (just as it is in the church today), there were some wonderfully good people.

It’s not surprising that Jesus was impressed by the good people that the traditional practice of the faith had produced.  He was immersed in that spirit form his earliest infancy.  When he was brought to the temple, as a baby of less than 2 months, there were good people waiting there to greet him.  Luke’s Gospel reports that on that ritual day, two special people were on hand, a man named Simeon, and an old woman named Anna.

Nobody had invited them to the occasion, other than the Holy Spirit.  But Simeon and Anna were very remarkable people.  Anna was some 84 years old and had been a widow since her early 20’s.  Luke says that “she never left the temple but worshiped there with fasting and prayer night and day.”  We sometimes say of certain persons, “They’re at church every time the door is open.”  Anna was that kind of woman.  But note Anna’s reason for being there.   It wasn’t to be with her friends or family.  It wasn’t because she liked the preacher.  It wasn’t because she liked the music.  She went to worship and fast and pray.  She went to be with God.  She went to encounter God.  Her focus was on God.  The House of God was her heart’s home, and she found her way there at every possible opportunity.  It’s no wonder, then, that she was there when the baby Jesus was brought for the high ceremony of dedication to God.  She wasn’t likely to miss the greatest hour that ever came to her place of worship, because she was there at all hours.  

As for Simeon, the Bible says that he was “righteous and devout”, and that the Holy Spirit was upon him.  We don’t know how old Simeon was, but he was well enough advanced in age that he was living just to see a promise he had received from God, a promise that he would not die until he had seen the Messiah.  On this particular day, he came to the temple under special inspiration from the Holy Spirit.  When Joseph and Mary brought their baby for the act of dedication, Simeon took the child in his arms and blessed him.  Christmas came to Simeon and Anna while they were in the place of worship, because Christmas comes to a church.

Suppose Jesus was born in our day; would we reject him again?  Would everyone, including people of the church, turn their backs on him?  Yes, probably the world as a whole would reject him again, just as it did 20 centuries ago.  And yes, no doubt many church people would also reject him, even though we claim the name Christian.

I don’t think Jesus would put up with the petty things that happen in a church.  What do you think he would say to the person who dropped out of church 20 years ago because of something that was said or done, but who still claims to be his follower?  What do you think he would say to churches who chew up pastors and spit them out one after another?  What do you think he would say to those in the church who seem to love to gossip, to tear down and criticize rather than build up?  What do you think he would say about those who speak ill of people because of the color of their skin or the language they speak?  What do you think he would say to pastors who don’t listen for his voice and who don’t preach his word?  No, I think it wouldn’t take long before he ruffled too many feathers and there would be a meeting of the Pastor-Parish relations committee and a call to the District Superintendent to get rid of him.  Jesus came as the Prince of Peace, but he was also a peacemaker who disturbs the peace when people get too comfortable where they are and he is calling them to deeper discipleship and service in his kingdom. 

Some in the church would reject him but I can tell you who would receive him.  It would be the Simeons and the Annas of our world.  People like Simeon and Anna will always be waiting for God, will always be wanting more of God, and will always be seeking for the will of God.  And those who seek, find.

Economists, sociologists, political scientists, and gamblers all agree that a wise person plays the odds.  A wise person chooses the most likely prospects.  Life produces some surprises, but don’t build your life on the hope that surprises will happen for you.  Plan instead on the predictable, the likely percentages.   In the Christmas story the predictable participants are Simeon and Anna.  If you want to be sure to make the Christmas scene, follow their lead.  The odds are all with them.

There are some wonderful surprises in the Christmas story.  You probably wouldn’t expect Christmas to come to a hotel, or a stable, or a think tank, or a bunch of shepherds on a hillside.  So it’s exciting to see that God did, indeed, choose to unfold the Christmas story in such unlikely places.  And it’s a reminder that God can’t be programmed, and that the grace of God can’t be predicted.  God is God, and God’s ways are past our finding out.

Nevertheless, the church—that is the committed people of God—is a predictable part of the Christmas story.  Wherever else Christmas might or might not come, it will come to the people who have built an altar in their hearts.  Simeon and Anna were that kind of people, the kind of people you would look for in a church.

I’m among the first to admit that the church has vast numbers of another kind.  I know we have a discouraging percentage whose religion is uncommitted and occasional.  But for those who really give the church a chance, the Simeon and Anna type, the church produces the finest and most admirable human beings that you can ever hope to find.  I certainly am sometimes distressed at the pettiness and half-heartedness that I sometimes find among church members, but I’m far more impressed by the kind, generous, godly people the church has produced.  I’ve lived long enough to know that goodness isn’t easy to come by or easy to maintain.  Becoming a truly good human being is a complex human enterprise.  As a result, I’m surprised at how often the church produces such beauty of character.

So the first Christmas came to a church.  Jesus was born into the Jewish equivalent of a church family, and before he was two months old, he had passed through three major religious ceremonies.  And he continued to be part of that religious tradition even though it was corrupt and flawed in so many ways, and even though its very leaders opposed him.

That’s why I want to be in church every Sunday, even when we are on vacation.  Because while God can be found any number of places, and while God is not about to be fenced in by our expectations, the Bible makes it clear that God is found by those who seek him.  And at its best, the church is just that:  a body of people who are seeking to know God, to be in his presence, to please God, and to do God’s will.  They’re not perfect, but they’ve caught the message and they’re seeking to bring it to pass.  That’s why Christmas came to a church.

No comments:

Post a Comment