Breaking Down Walls

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, ²asking, “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.” ³When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; ⁴and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. ⁵They told him, “In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet:
⁶‘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.'”
⁷Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. ⁸Then 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.” ⁹When 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. ¹⁰When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. ¹¹On 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. ¹²And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.

Breaking Down Walls

Let us Pray:

People without a vision perish

We know this is true

The Magi saw a vision

Of a child who would be a humble king

Of a child who deserved extravagance, yet demanded nothing but love

Of a child who would walk to the end of life and one step beyond

For love

For us

Give us the vision of the Magi today

In the name of the one foretold by star

And told of in this place

Amen.

This is one of my favorite Nativity sets.

Dieter Schulte introduced me to this particular version last year.  For those of you in the back who can’t see, I’ll describe it for you.

We have the traditional stable, and the star overhead “pointing down to where Jesus lay,” as the carol goes.

And we have the magi coming from afar, following that “yonder star.”

But they can’t make it.

They can’t make it because there’s a wall.  A fence.  A wall blocking off Bethlehem from the East.

It’s a reminder for me, in a small sense, of how if the Magi were to make this trek today, if Jesus were to be physically born today shown under the same sign, in the same town, on the same night, the Magi wouldn’t be allowed to visit.

The ancient Magi had Herod to contend with.  The modern Magi have walls and M1 Carbine assault rifles to consider.  They would not be allowed to visit.

Not without documentation.

And certainly not if they carried with them the story that they were here to see a political leader other than those currently in power.

In a larger sense it’s a reminder for me of how broken our world is, of how there are places in this world, and in this city, and in this church, and in our homes, and in our lives, that are walled off.  Fissured.  Broken.

And yet, Christ is there.

There, present, alive.  Just clouded, obscured, not visible.  The star shines brightly, but we can’t always make out where and how it marks where Jesus lay.  Because of walls, barriers, things that get in the way.

And what did the Magi carry with them?  Gold, frankincense, and myrrh.  Three items absolutely useless to a child, but essential for a king.

So why would these Magi bring such a gift, and why would they continue to lay these gifts down in front of Christ after they arrived and saw that this supposed “wonder” that the star was pointing them toward was not wonderful at all!  Just a boy.

What made them stay?  What made them lay down those gifts?

Because they carried with them more than just gold, frankincense, and myrrh.  They carried with them a story and a vision.

The vision?  That this star was important, pointing to something important.  That it was a heavenly directive played out on earth.

And the story?  That this one, who looks like nothing, would be something, would do something, something that I still see in this Nativity set.  That this little one would be a Shepherd for the world.

That this someone, this Jesus, this boy-child of Mary, would break down walls.

Walls between nations, walls within cities, walls within churches, walls within homes, walls within people…walls between you and me, walls between heaven and earth.

These Magi carried a vision and a story that transcended all the walls, all the barriers, all the Herods of the world, and for that promise, because of that story, they laid down their gifts, gave them up.

Here, on this Epiphany Sunday, we’re about to enter into a conversation about what this next year will look like at LMC at our congregational meeting.  Over the past 15 months people have laid down their gifts here, given treasure, time, talents, and why?

Because we, here, also have a vision and a story.  The vision I’ll get to in a moment, but let me tell you some stories.

One story involves a woman who was a member at Luther for her entire life.  Baptized here, Confirmed here, and she sang in the choir for over 50 years.

And as I sat down to hear her story she said to me, “You know pastor, we thought this church was going to close.  We were all shaking our heads and preparing for it.”  And then she went on to tell me what life she sees here, and that while the worship is different, how she likes that people are involved in all sorts of things going on in the neighborhood and the city.

She ended by saying, “I’m not worried we’re going to close now; I was there through good years and tough years, but it’s good to know it’ll be here for good years for others, too.”

And yesterday we said goodbye to her for the final time, singing her out as she had sung so many times, “The Lord bless you and keep you…”

A story of a hopeful life molded by their experience with God and community, here at Luther Memorial.

Another story is about a youth lock-in that we had with our junior and senior high group.  Deep into the night, about 1am, we gathered around this altar, lit some candles, and reflected on what it meant to follow Jesus in a world that was sometimes difficult to live in.

And the tears started to flow.  And that night a number of youth sat, prayed, and held each other as they shared deep stories about needs that they had and how they could see God working in their lives.

Or about the note that Brian received from a the mother of a guest who came to a youth event here, and how this young woman went home and talked candidly for the first time with her mother about difficult topics like pain and suicide after an experience with God shown through this community.

Those are young lives changed by their experience with community and their experience with God, here.

Or how about the story I hear pretty frequently of the questioners who walk through our doors and feel like this is a safe place to ask questions about what it means to be religious or even who this Jesus guy is.

They’ve come maybe because they visited one of the experiential dramas shown here at Easter or Christmas.  I’ve seen those notes.

Or they’ve come because we were out in the streets blessing pets and they happened to pass by and thought that the words or the comfort given there were enough to check it out.

Or they’ve come because they feel like this is a place where Jesus meets them on their own terms, and not because they necessarily know what they think about everything.

I’ve seen those notes, those letters, those jots of the pen down on the yellow sheets that people send it; those conversations had after church.

Those stories are probably most like that Magi, because I’m sure they didn’t know exactly what to think of this promised one either…and yet they followed.

Those are lives who’ve encountered Jesus here.

And what about the story of the young gay man who was kicked out of his house, but fed by sandwiches, soup, and dignity lovingly prepared here every month?

And what about the young man who worked next to me at the Ravenswood Mobile Food Pantry who, after serving 150 people bread, canned goods, fresh fruit, and cereal, came around the table, grabbed a bag, and started to take some home for his own family?  I never knew he needed it, but he did.  And we could help.

And what about the blankets lovingly made that are sent out to people in need of comfort, companionship, in need of a reminder that there is a community that cares for them?  Because sometimes this world can be cold…

Or what about the animals given to farmers in Africa this year with the name of Christ on it, given by our hands?  Or the 50 coats we passed out?  Or the relief response to Haiti after a devastating earthquake?  Or the young family in Mexico who just needed a safe place to stay but could find no room at the inn…except with our families.

Those, too, are lives who are encountered by the love of God found here.  Those, too, are lives and situations who have started to change, to turn around, by the work here.

We, too, carry the same story that the Magi carried: that this one we see in Jesus can break down the barriers built up between people that cause tears, break down the barriers of hunger and poverty that cause mouths to go empty and heads to sleep on concrete, break down the barriers of our kids going through school without a friend because they have a friend in Jesus, or more rightly, they have a friend in the youth here at Luther who I have seen love one another unconditionally, embodying Jesus.

Without reserve.

That is our story, too.  And we live it out.

There are more stories, of course.  Your own.  But what about the vision?

The vision we have is simple.  If these are people’s experiences with the love of God as shown in Christ here at Luther, the task put before us every day is: how do we build on that?

If lives are formed and molded here in worship and community, how do we continue to make sure that God is praised in such a way that the Holy Spirit is felt throughout the community?

If youth are touched and transformed within these walls, how do we nourish those lives already here while preparing for and reaching those not here yet?

If people are seeking after what this community gathers around, even if they can’t make heads or tails of it, how can we be as hospitable as we can, convinced that God is doing something unique in Jesus while open enough to let people experience it as they do?

If people are being fed by our hands, clothed by our hands, lifted up by our hands, how do we continue to do that necessary work of showing God’s love in Christ?

In short: if the Magi followed the star as a vision, laying down their gifts at the feet of Jesus, who was promised to tear down walls, how do we lay down our gifts today, this month, this year to the Jesus who still tears down all types of walls?

You know what I love about this Nativity set?  It tells the Nativity story while still reminding me of our broken world, yes.  It reminds me that conflict is still very real; of course.

(Removing wall)

But it also reminds me that Jesus breaks all that down, takes it away.

What walls will we break down this year as a church, laying our gifts at the feet of a God who continues to transform lives and change the world?

Amen.