Wednesday, December 31, 2014


A Broken World, A Dream Born

 Matthew 2:13-23

December 28, 2014

                                                                 Mark S. Bollwinkel

 
            One of the most significant verses of scripture in the Bible is its shortest; “Jesus wept” (John 11:35).   It is one of my favorite texts on which to preach in the face of death and grief at a memorial service.

            When Jesus learns of his best friend’s death, and against his disciples’ warnings, he insists that he must return to Bethany to be at the funeral.  On the way he encounters Lazarus’ sister Martha, convinced that if Jesus had been there Lazarus would not have died.  Jesus is using these events as a sign of his divinity.  He says those powerful, comforting and promising words to Martha, “I am the resurrection and the life.  Those who believe in me though they die yet shall they live, and those who live and believe in me shall never die.” (John 11:25-27)

            When he arrives at the burial site and is joined by Mary, his other friend and sister to Lazarus and Martha, the village has gathered to mourn his passing.  It is there as Jesus joins them and cries tears of grief.

            Why?

Lazarus will be resurrected from death.  He will leave the tomb as a sign of God’s presence in the life and ministry of Jesus. (John 11: 43-44)   These events will lead to Jesus own crucifixion and resurrection (John 11:45-57).  As the son of God surely he knows how the story is going to end.   Why would he weep?

Unless of course that God so completely shares life with us that he can do no other.  Jesus will work as a carpenter, will eat and laugh and walk with friends.  He will know what death is all about and he will know what it is like to lose his best friend.  So Jesus weeps.  God weeps with us in our grieving.  He is found in the depths of the human experience.

We hear that again in our gospel lesson from Matthew.

            We preachers try to avoid it as much as we can. 

            Our Christmas story and liturgical season ends with an astonishing scene.  No sooner have the Magi left the manger at Bethlehem than Joseph and Mary become political refugees and immigrants.    They flee to Egypt to escape the violence of King Herod who will murder all of the male children in and around the town so to eliminate any potential threat to his power.

            We would much rather end our Christmas season on Epiphany with stories of the wise men with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.  But the Bible confronts us with the reality of the world into which God enters as the Christ child. 

Although our technology is advanced, are we really so very different from that ancient world?   Too many innocent children are still murdered by tyrants.    It remains a world where people are displaced due to the politics of violence and poverty. The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees estimates a record number of displaced persons now reaching 15 million people around the world (UNHCR.org, 12/21/14).  The Immigration and Nationalization Service of the US Government estimates that there are 12 million people in our country without proper documentation. (INS.gov).

The Bible actually has a lot to say about how we are to treat refugees and immigrants; "The strangers who sojourn with you shall be to you as the natives among you and you shall love them as yourself; for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” (Leviticus 19:33-34)   

            Abraham was a “stranger” among the Hittites at Hebron (Gen. 23:4) as was Moses in Midian (Exodus 2:22), the Israelites in Egypt (Deut. 23:7) and Ruth the Moabite, daughter-in-law to Naomi who married the righteous Boaz and was grandmother to King David and 14 generations later to Jesus of Nazareth (Ruth 1:1-f); the baby whose birth we celebrate during Christmas becomes a political refugee himself and immigrant almost as soon as he is born.

In the New Testament, this Jesus tells us to welcome the “stranger” (Matthew 25:35), for "what you do to the least of my brethren, you do unto me”. (Matthew 25:40)

The United States of America has a long history of welcoming those oppressed to our country and has benefited greatly as a result.

John Muir was one of eight children born to Daniel and Ann in Dunbar, Scotland.  The family immigrated to Wisconsin in 1848 due to poverty and his father’s piety.  John Muir settled in California in 1868 where shortly thereafter he discovered Yosemite Valley’s beauty.  Muir would become one of the founders of our National Park system as a result of his passion for creation.

Madeline Albright was born in Czechoslovakia in 1937 to Josef and Anna Korbel.  They came to the United States in 1948 as refugees from growing Soviet communism.  She would become the first women Secretary of State and highest ranking female officer in our government in 1997.

Jonas Salk was born to Dora and Daniel in New York City in 1914.  His parents came to America as immigrants fleeing the persecution of Jewish people of Russia.  Dr. Salk would discover the vaccine for polio in 1952. He died at the age of 80 working on a vaccine for HIV/AIDS.

  Since 1975 alone the United States has resettled over 2.6 million refugees in our country, 77% from Indochina (USDHHS: Office of Refugee Resettlement).   Religious organizations, including the United Methodist Committee on Relief have been instrumental in this effort here and all over the world.

How we treat each other is how we treat God.  That is especially true for how we treat the least and most vulnerable in our society.  It is no coincidence that the one who teaches us that is the carpenter from Galilee who was born in a stable and himself became a political refugee and immigrant no sooner than he was born.

Our tradition does not suggest a Divinity that is distant and abstract from history but just the opposite, a God who shares our life, our future and our suffering with us.  A God who weeps when we weep.  A God who knows what betrayal and love are all about.  A God who lives and dies just as each one of us will.   That is what the Christmas narratives are really all about and why we celebrate the savior’s birth.

            For me Christmas began when my grandparents arrived.  Whether it was Indiana, New Jersey or California....all states in which I grew up as a kid.....and whether I was five or fifteen.....the arrival of Elmer and Loretta marked the real beginning of Christmas.

It wasn't the presents they brought with them.  Grandma and Grandpa had lived a modest life.  My grandfather sold hardware in New York City.  They lived in a rented apartment across the river in Northern New Jersey.  They weren't poor.  But it wasn't the things they brought with them that got us excited.

My Grandmother Loretta was a reserved woman, quite proper.  When my brother Paul and I would get into a fight yelling "shut up" at each other, she would correct our manners saying "...don't say 'shut up' say 'be quiet'"    She was not a 'sit in the lap and cuddle' kind of grandmother.   Paul and I would take turns dipping a tea bag into her cup of tea.   That was how we shared affection for Grandma Loretta.

My Grandfather Elmer was the boisterous, extraverted energy of the family at the holidays.   He was hearing impaired and had one false eye due to injuries from World War I.   He was full of jokes and stories about his life.   He was the kind of person that could sit down at a bus stop full of strangers and leave five minutes later with a friend (kind of like my beloved Bonnie!).   Grandpa would play games, check out our toys and really pay attention to us kids.  

What I remember most about their holiday stays with us was the laughter.   My Mom and Dad loved them dearly and so enjoyed their company.  Meal time was the sharing of good and special foods and laughter, lots of laughter.

As I look back I can’t remember many of the presents I received as a child over the years but I will never forget my grandparents at Christmas time.

Both were second generation immigrants from Germany.  Claus Elmer Bollwinkel at the age of 14 was given the choice to stay in prison or immigrate to the United States.  We have a copy of the prison ship’s manifest from Dresden that landed him in New York in 1857.

His grandson Elmer Jr., my grandfather, would serve in an American uniform in World War I.

This fourth generation immigrant thanks God for the decision of my great-great-grandfather to immigrate to this country.  I thank God for the faithful life his family lived and the joy they brought to me and mine at Christmas time.

 It’s not what’s under the tree that makes Christmas morning. 

It’s the love shared around it that makes all the difference.

Now that Santa has gone back to the North Pole, we can remember that Jesus was born a political refugee having to flee his home to the temporary safety of another country.   God’s love is born to us in the darkest time of year and in the most desperate of situations. 

In the end, that is the good news we are called to share.  We worship the one God who completely shares life with us, even weeps with us.  We who are each strangers in a strange land.   

 

Amen.

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