Matthew 2:1-12

In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, "Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage." When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. They told him, "In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet: "And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel.' " Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, "Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage."

When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.

On our post-Christmas trip to Ohio to spend time with family, my mother-in-law took the time to read several stories to her grandkids. One they particularly enjoyed was The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. This is the classic fictional story of how one church Christmas pageant unfolds once the Herdman kids become involved.

The Herdmans were no typical group of siblings, rather, they’re referred to as “the worst kids in the history of the world.” The Herdman kids are unrestrained by manners or social norms, and they cause more than their fair share of destruction and frustration. However, as they engage with the Christmas story for the first time, they bring their own particular type of innocence and insight to the pageant performance. It all culminates in a heartwarming production that brings everyone to tears.

One of the most touching moments is when the wise men present their gifts to Jesus. The Herdman boys discussed among themselves and decided frankincense and myrrh were “crummy” gifts. Instead, Leroy decided the best thing he could offer Jesus was the ham out of his family’s Christmas welfare basket. So that’s exactly what he proudly carries down the center aisle of the church and lays at the manger.

It’s a story that beautifully illustrates that even the “worst kids in the history of the world” are capable of profound acts of beauty, generosity, and love when they encounter the story of Jesus. The Herdman children serve as role models for how our hearts and minds can be filled with love when we encounter the Christ, whether in the pages of scripture or through the production of a church Christmas pageant. And that love will lead us to offer our own gifts for the sake of Christ, be they gold, frankincense, myrrh, or ham.

It is unclear exactly how or when the practice of giving gifts became wrapped up in the observation of Christmas. Certainly one of the influences was the story of the wise men presenting gifts to Christ. The wise men, or more accurately called magi, were practitioners of an Eastern religion, Zoroastrianism. Through some form of astrology and/or astronomy they came to understand that a new Jewsh king had been born. We are not told why the magi were interested in this development; although I think it’s safe to assume they did not set out with the intention of giving gifts to the new king. There simply would have been no reason for them to do so. The Hebrews were not a group that commanded fear, respect, or tribute from others. Scripture only tells us that when the magi encounter Jesus directly they are filled with joy. Only then do they open up their treasure chests and pull out precious items to give to Jesus.

The wise men from scripture as well as the wise men from The Best Christmas Pageant Ever serve to remind us of what is possible when we encounter Christ. We will be filled with joy and led to give of ourselves.

I hope that you have had such encounters with Christ in your life of discipleship, likely through scripture reading, prayer, service to others, or worship. Chances are good that the degree to which you live a life of generosity and joy is directly attributed to your having encountered and experienced Christ.

This is a story of profound beauty and hope; however, we can’t leave this gospel story without addressing the dire warning it also contains. There’s a character in the story who never has a direct encounter with Christ and as you heard in last week’s gospel, the world is made worse off for it.

King Herod learns of the birth of a supposed Jewish King and is filled with fear, anger, paranoia, and insecurity. He knows nothing of the joy, peace, truth, and generosity of God the Son. All he knows and cares about is his own status, power, and self-sufficiency. Perhaps things would have turned out differently for Herod had he been able to have a direct encounter with God through Christ. In the end he orders the slaughter of children in order to preserve his claim to earthly power -- a move, it should be pointed out, that did nothing to preserve his power nor derail God’s plan for salvation.

Here we have two dramatically different postures to consider. Herod looks down on others and is filled with anger, paranoia, and insecurity. The kneeling magi, on the other hand, look up with reverence and are filled with awe and curiosity.

These two postures deeply affect how we interact with the world. How much of our time and energy each day is spent looking down on others? How much of our time and energy each day is spent looking up with reverence at the mysterious and miraculous ways God is working through others?

Are the scales of our emotional lives tipped more to the side of anger, paranoia, and insecurity? Or are they tipped more toward awe, curiosity, and reverence?

As we experience the story of the magi encountering Christ, consider the invitation to approach Christ in your own life through spiritual practices such as mediation, prayer, scripture, and worship, and allow your heart to be transformed into one of wonder and generosity.

As we experience the story of foreigners and adherents to other religions giving gifts to Christ, be reminded that “members of Earth’s religions don’t need to see their counterparts as competitors or enemies. Instead, we can approach one another with the spirit of gift-giving and honor, as exemplified by the Magi” (Brian McLaren, We Make the Road by Walking, 83).

May your worship and discipleship through this season of Epiphany lead you to new encounters with Christ that will form in you a life of awe, curiosity, and reverence at God and the wonders of creation.

Amen.

Luke 16:19-31

"There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man's table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores. The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham.

The rich man also died and was buried. In Hades, where he was being tormented, he looked up and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side. He called out, "Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in agony in these flames.' But Abraham said, "Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony. Besides all this, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.'

He said, "Then, father, I beg you to send him to my father's house—for I have five brothers—that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.' Abraham replied, "They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.' He said, "No, father Abraham; but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.' He said to him, "If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.' "

Namaste.

This is the Sanskrit word in Hindu culture used to signify a greeting of respect.

Namaste literally means “I bow to the divine in you.” And so, as you say namaste you push your hands together with fingers pointed to the sky and slightly bow at the waist.

If you’ve encountered this expression it was probably from an encounter with a colleague of Hindu descent; or it had something to do with yoga, as instructors often begin and end with this greeting and bow as a sign of respect and thankfulness.

Namaste is a recognition that there is something in the person whom you are greeting that is worthy of respect and honor. For Hindus, it is a recognition that the divine is within the other person, just as the divine is inside you. It is a claim of acknowledgement, respect, and a shared spirituality.

I’m curious if there is a word in Sanskrit that communicates the opposite – the idea that another person is not worthy of respect – a statement that God must obviously have abandoned that person because there is no trace of the divine in him or her.

That word might exist, and if it does I probably shouldn’t say it in church. But I doubt there is a word to describe the opposite of namaste…because I think the best way to un-namaste someone is to simply ignore him or her. Pay no attention, act as if the other person’s existence is completely meaningless and inconsequential. Act like you have so little in common with the other person that there is no reason to acknowledge their existence.

Not long ago I came across a theory regarding what happens to us psychologically when someone fails to acknowledge us. This theory posits that the reason being ignored bothers us so much is because deep down our greatest fear is that life is meaningless, arbitrary, and inconsequential. When someone fails to acknowledge our existence, they legitimize this primal fear.

Being ignored makes us feel like we are dead. Not dead and living eternally in joyful heaven or tormenting hell; but rather, dead as in just not existing – what our first testament Hebrew scriptures refer to as Sheol – the place of the dead where God is not in relationship with us. It is a place of nothingness because the Creator God is not there.

Our brains equate being ignored with not existing. Namaste, on the other hand, is acknowledging that not only does someone exist, but their life has value because the presence of the divine is within them. The heartfelt acknowledgement of another makes us feel like we’ll live forever.

Today’s scripture is a powerful story about failing to recognize the divine in one’s neighbor. It is a story about the eternal consequences of failing to acknowledge and value another person’s life.

There are very few facts offered about the rich man and the poor man in today’s gospel story. Essentially, one person has too much wealth; the other doesn’t have enough. And despite having the means to help the poor man at his gate, the rich man does not help him.

We can imagine what the rich man thinks every time he looks out and sees the man covered in sores lying by his gate:

“Why doesn’t that bum get a job?”
“I can’t help someone who can’t help himself”
“I have bills to pay, I can’t afford to just give my money away”
“God must be punishing this guy for doing something wrong – he must have got what he deserved”

Or, worse, maybe the rich man looked out his window and never even saw Lazarus. Maybe Lazarus’ broken body simply blended into the dirt. Maybe Lazarus was so weak and powerless that he couldn’t draw attention to himself each time the rich man walked past. If that’s true, this parable just went from troubling to terrifying – terrifying because it makes me wonder how many times each day I pass by or step over people who are in need of something I could provide if I only stopped to take notice.

One of the great dangers of wealth is that it can so easily be used as a cocoon. Some people have so much money that we can afford to ignore the painful truths of poverty in the world. Others are so tempted by the lure of wealth that we put blinders on, ignoring (even vilifying) anyone or anything that would divert us from our primary objective of earning more and more for ourselves in our pursuit of comfort and ease.

Billionaire investor Warren Buffet has a perspective about wealth that raises a similar point: He has said,
"I want to give my kids enough so that they could feel that they could do anything, but not so much that they could do nothing."

The parable seems to be saying that doing nothing simply isn’t an option for a follower of Christ. If we cannot acknowledge, much less act compassionately toward the poor and neglected then we have lost something that is deeply and genuinely human.

In time, the wealth that has alienated us from our neighbors deludes us into imagining that we ourselves have no need, that we are self-sufficient, and can easily substitute hard work and a little luck for grace and mercy. At that point, we are, indeed, lost and separated from the divine spark within us.

But, fortunately, the reverse is also true – as we become more generous and responsive to the pain and needs of others we become more acutely aware of our own humanity, of our own longings and insufficiency. Only then can we truly appreciate the grace of Jesus Christ – the one who took on our need, our humanity, our lot and our life, all in order to show us God's profound love for each and every one of us. If we cannot recognize the divine in others, we cannot recognize the divine in ourselves.

As your pastor, I want you to be so motivated by today’s scripture that you would leave Cross of Grace this morning and start to see the people that have previously been hidden from you; but I realize the this is impossible unless you first recognize that God dwells within you.

So, here are a couple suggestions to make this happen:

Start by thinking about someone in your life who has seen you and truly known you – someone who understands that God is present in you and has treated you accordingly. Picture this person in your mind. Recall how, specifically, this person treated you. What did he or she say to you to make you feel affirmed? Meditate on these memories.

Next, move from meditation to action. Write this person a letter, thanking them for what they have done to make you feel honored and important.

And finally, I want you to practice the expression of namaste. Stand in front of a mirror and look at yourself. Push your palms together with fingers pointed to the sky, bend slightly at the waist, and say, “I bow to the divine in you.” (Feel free to laugh uncomfortably when doing this. I do believe laughter is one of the primary ways that God takes a hold of our hearts).

This practice might just open your eyes to the presence of various people and needs in and around your life. Only then can you authentically bear the presence of a loving God to the people whom might otherwise blend into the background of your life.

Amen and namaste.

Looking Up with the Magi

Namaste – Luke 16:19-31