John 1:35-42

The next day John again was standing with two of his disciples, 36 and as he watched Jesus walk by, he exclaimed, "Look, here is the Lamb of God!" 37 The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus. 38 When Jesus turned and saw them following, he said to them, "What are you looking for?" They said to him, "Rabbi" (which translated means Teacher), "where are you staying?" 39 He said to them, "Come and see." They came and saw where he was staying, and they remained with him that day. It was about four o'clock in the afternoon. 40 One of the two who heard John speak and followed him was Andrew, Simon Peter's brother. 41 He first found his brother Simon and said to him, "We have found the Messiah" (which is translated Anointed ). 42 He brought Simon to Jesus, who looked at him and said, "You are Simon son of John. You are to be called Cephas" (which is translated Peter).

Today’s gospel tells of a pair of John’s disciples who leave their teacher behind in order to follow Jesus, the new rabbi on the scene. One of these new disciples is so moved by his first day with Jesus that he goes and recruits another disciple to follow Jesus. The gospel’s message for us today is right there on the surface: our call as disciples is to be drawn so deeply into the loving presence of Christ that we go and share that invitation to others. That’s my whole sermon, summed up, so you can tune out for the rest if you desire; but you’ll probably want to hear the case study I’m going to share with you.

I’ve managed to experience a lifetime in a Lutheran congregation, four years at a Christian university, and four years of seminary without hearing the name Julian of Norwich. Through my spiritual formation classes I have recently been introduced to her and I am excited to tell you about Julian this morning because she provides a fascinating entry to explore just what it means to desire and follow God.

Julian of Norwich lived as a Benedictine nun in the late-14th and early-15th centuries. Much of her life was spent as an anchoress, meaning that she lived outside the church in a tiny stone structure that was completely sealed up. There was one opening to the outside through which items could be passed and people could come and converse with her. There was also something called a squint--a narrow vertical opening that permitted a view of nothing but the altar, which is a powerful image of how one can focus one’s life on God alone. I realize this might not be the best way to describe someone who we are to emulate, as I don’t know how many of you find this lifestyle appealing, but hear me out.

When Julian was six years old the Black Plague made its way to England for the first time. Entire communities were decimated. The first epidemic lasted three years and claimed the lives of 3/4 of the population of Norwich. The plague was a brutal and disgusting disease. Everyone who survived was traumatized from the experience of witnessing the disease decimate their families and communities. Through this time Christianity remained the primary religion in the region. Think for a moment what you would believe about God if you were raised in an environment filled with that much suffering, death, and destruction. Most believed that their suffering was brought on by the actions of a wrathful God. The people assumed that God meant to wipe them out due to their sin, just as in the days of the Biblical flood.

Out of this environment Julian felt a desire to know God better, which I think is a miraculous sentiment. I can’t imagine desiring to become better acquainted with a wrathful God who was presumed to be responsible for the death and destruction that literally plagued the world. Specifically, Julian desired three things from God: 1) to understand the cross; 2) to overcome her fear of God’s judgment; and 3) to trust God more. Julian served as a nun and waited for ten years before receiving a revelation from God that would address her questions and situate her as one of the most cherished Christian mystics.

“On May 13th, 1373, Julian was succumbing to a disease thought to be the plague. Her breathing became ragged; she was barely alive. Julian asked her mother to help her sit up to ease her breathing. When the priest arrived, he held up a crucifix for Julian to gaze upon for comfort as he administered Last Rites and prayed for her soul. With effort, Julian focused on the cross. Then her sight appeared to be failing; she could see nothing but the cross alone. A bright light shone on the figure of Jesus, like sunlight through a window, but she could not identify its source.

‘This is death,’ she thought, as a great weight seemed to press upon her chest.

Then, in an instant, the pain vanished like the lifting of a curtain! And the figure on the cross before her started to bleed! It bled freely, as the image came alive and Jesus looked at her. And thus began a ten-hour conversation with Jesus which addressed humanity’s deepest questions about sin, suffering and grace.“*

She would fully recover from her illness and set to work writing down everything she experienced during her ten-hour revelation.This would end up as the work Revelations of Divine Love. Her experience deserves more than a one-word summary, but I don’t think she would mind if I summarized her experience as joyful.

Her experience of God was joyful because she received insight into God’s sufferings and his love for us. “Julian’s message remains one of hope and trust in God, whose compassionate love is always given to us. In this all-gracious God there can be no element of wrath. The wrath — ‘all that is contrary to peace and love — is in us and not in God. God’s saving work in Jesus of Nazareth and in the gift of God's spirit, is to counteract our wrath in the power of his merciful and compassionate love'. Julian did not perceive God as blaming or judging us, but as enfolding us in love.”**

Julian writes that at one point during her experience of God’s revelation God showed her a hazelnut. “In this little thing I saw three properties. The first is that God made it, the second is that God loves it, the third is that God preserves it.” This vision showed Julian God’s identity as Creator, protector, and lover. She goes on to write, “For until I am substantially united to him, I can never have perfect rest or true happiness, until, that is, I am so attached to him that there can be no created thing between my God and me.”

In the context of abhorrent death and destruction, of a wrathful God determined to destroy humankind, and of her very own demise, Julian received a vision of God’s goodness and love. Through the vision God taught her that sin would not have the final word. This led her to write down a sentence that I hope you will cherish: “Though sin is inevitable, all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.”

I began this message by telling you where I would end up: that our call as disciples is to be drawn so deeply into the loving presence of Christ that we go and share that invitation to others. If our heart's desire is to know God better, it will happen. Christ will be revealed to us. The revelation of God in Christ will change the course of our lives. And people will desperately want to know more about the God of grace, love, and truth whom we have encountered.

Julian of Norwich has been someone who points me toward the loving presence of Christ. Her testimony makes me want to encounter God in new and profound ways, so that I can come to believe for myself that “though sin is inevitable, all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.”

Amen.

* Mimi Dixon, “The Contemplative Stream: Julian of Norwich” (lecture, Renovaré Institute of Christian Spiritual Formation), November 19, 2020.
** http://juliancentre.org/about/about-julian-of-norwich.html

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.