December 27, 2015 Sunday School Lesson

Matthew 2:13-23

Commentary on the Text:

The journey of the Magi is recounted in Matthew 2:1-12 and demonstrates the trustworthy nature of these three powerful figures. The Magi take the signs and portents of the Lord very seriously. They go to great lengths and some risk to remain obedient to the visions they are given. First they seek the child by going on a kind of pilgrimage journey. When they find , these stately, royal personages do not hesitate to bow down and worship the tiny baby. They also pay homage to the infant's foretold greatness by offering fantastic, indeed extravagant, gifts to this child born in poverty.

Finally the Magi put loyalty over royalty by once more listening to an messenger whose counsel warns them of Herod's evil intentions. Having traveled hastily and wearily under a secret night sky to get to the baby, they now furtively slip away to their own lands, as though they too were fugitives from Herod's wrath.

Verse 13 begins with these Magi disappearing into the night as mysteriously as they had come. Now one of Matthew's favorite characters makes yet another appearance. An "angel of the Lord" once again visits Joseph with a message. Consider Joseph's possible frame of mind. His wife has just given birth to a son, a child whose conception was so unusual that Joseph's first experience with an angelic messenger was required to encourage him to accept both mother and baby. Not only that, but after the child's rather awkward and untimely arrival, there suddenly appeared on the doorstep of their lodging place an entourage of intimidatingly rich and powerful noblemen. They had actually fallen down and worshiped at the feet of Joseph's tiny, red and wrinkly newborn son. To cap off this bizarre behavior they ceremoniously presented three of the most valuable items one could possess in Joseph's day as gifts for the baby.

Instead of giving this new family a chance to settle in and absorb all these events, however, Joseph now encounters another angel! This time, however, the heavenly messenger brings no flowery pronouncements or words of comfort. This time the message is an urgent, frightening warning requiring instantaneous action. Still trying to comprehend the visit and , Joseph is now told that no less than King Herod himself wants the baby not worshiped, but killed. Joseph's obedience to the angel's warning is immediate and unquestioning. He turns away from his homeland, his realties, his established livelihood, and goes "underground" for the sake of his family's safety.

The extravagant gifts of the Magi now truly become the gifts of "wise men" - for they share the two traits this outcast family needs to survive; they are extremely valuable and yet easily transportable. The medicinal qualities of all three might come in useful for the new mother and baby, and tiny amounts of each costly substance could be sold along the way to buy food and shelter for all.

Matthew the narrator now speaks up to add Old Testament authority to the steps Joseph is about to take toward Egypt. This flight serves not only to safeguard Jesus' life, but it will fulfill the established prophecy spoken by the Lord that "out of Egypt I called my Son" (Hosea 11:1). The Old Testament reference here then plays a dual purpose itself. First, it adds authenticity to Jesus' later life and ministry by providing evidence that Jesus' messianic identity had been with him since birth. But the voice of the Old Testament speaking through the Matthean narrative also lends an air of authority to the Gospel writer himself.

Verses 19-23 conclude Matthew's infancy stories with a final tale of Joseph's obedience. The angel of the Lord finds Joseph yet again. This time the news is good, although it also requires another act of obedience and trust on Joseph's part. The family is now to leave their new home in Egypt and journey back to the land where Herod recently tried to destroy them. It must be with considerable trepidation that Joseph agrees even to step inside his homeland's borders. Despite the angel's assurance that "those who were seeking the child's life are dead," the long-suffering Joseph finally balks at walking right back into the lion's den when he hears that none other than Herod's son, Archelaus, is now ruling.

While it may appear that it is Joseph's fears that bring the family ultimately to "the district of Galilee," Matthew has saved a final prophetic reminder for just this occasion. Having finally settled into the Galilean area, the family ends up in the tiny town of Nazareth. Now Matthew the authoritative narrator speaks up and reveals the Old Testament prophecy that validates even this apparently spontaneous decision on Joseph's part - that the Messiah "will be called a Nazorean."[Nazarean] (This statement does not appear in the Old Testament. Matthew may have been alluding to a general teaching of the prophets.)

Matthew shows that Jesus' early childhood consisted of a series of moves - the whole family shifted from pillar to post, giving Jesus a lot in common with modern day "army brats" and "preachers' kids." Jesus' moves fulfill prophecy, but they also make him "from" both everywhere and nowhere. Always the strangers and newcomers, the Joseph/Mary family live both undercover and underground in order to safeguard their child's life. This early experience became a mark of Jesus' later ministry. For it was out of years of a "guerilla" lifestyle that Jesus could sigh and say, "Foxes have holes and birds ... have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head" (Matt. 8:20 NIV).

Lesson to Consider:

It’s a fleeting moment of wonder, an interlude in which life is suddenly lovely and charming, peaceful and polite. Ah, yes — . But maybe there is more than sweetness to the story.

You know about the shepherds and the and the wise men from the East.

You’re familiar with Joseph and Mary and the “little Lord Jesus, asleep on the hay.”

These characters are known to us all, and our visions of them leave us with a warm and fuzzy feeling.

But maybe you suspect that there is more than sweetness to this story. Scratch the surface of any image, and you’re going to uncover greed and passion, danger and death.

How does Christmas really work?

One place to begin to answer this question is the Internet, which conveniently enough includes a site called “How Christmas Works.” It’s a one-stop shop for all your questions about the holiday.

Questions like, “Why do people give each other presents on Christmas Day?” Or, “Is December 25 really the day Jesus was born?”

Then there’s the mistletoe mystery. What does it have to do with the Christmas story? Absolutely nothing.

And how about the 12 days of Christmas? What’s that about? Aren’t there like about 30 days of Christmas, from Thanksgiving until Christmas Day?

Of course there are answers to these questions for those who are truly interested. The point is, a cultural and religious tradition like Christmas takes years, even centuries, of formation until it becomes the event it is today, enshrined in the global consciousness in one way or another. Christmas works, and it works via these traditions and legends and customs that have evolved over time.

What happens is that all of these cultural accretions help us to “put on” Christmas. To do it right.

But how does it work? Really work?

Is there a lingering, lasting effect that Christmas produces in us and for us?

Could we throw a monkey wrench into the whole business that would cause Christmas not to work?

Actually, Christmas almost didn’t happen. Dig beneath the peaceful picture of Mary and Joseph and the baby Jesus, and you are going to find surprises. Take a close look at the gospel of Matthew, and you’ll be stunned by the danger and death that permeate the original Christmas story. You want to talk about catastrophe theory, you can start right here. Christmas should never have happened.

You don’t, for example, take your pregnant wife — nine months pregnant with God— put her on a mule, and pack her off on a 120-mile road trip.

Second, if you do, you arrange for lodging, and don’t just hope there will be a room in the inn.

Third, the child is born in a manger. Think about it. How do children survive these days? Answer is, back then, a lot of them didn’t. Jesus did. It wasn’t a sterile environment to have a child. Wasn’t your typical birthing center.

And then there are the wise men who hit a roadblock as they attempt to gain access to Jesus. Sure, the star in the sky is a big help as they make their way to Jerusalem, but once they arrive in the capital they run smack into King Herod, who’s already working on an exit strategy in case this new “king” isn’t found — and killed. To make sure, scores of male children are killed in what today is known as the “Slaughter of the Innocents.”

So Christmas almost didn’t come off then — and it often doesn’t come off at all for us now.

Of course, we go through the motions. The presents, the Christmas cards, the shopping, the food, the parties, and so on.

But that’s not Christmas. That’s the holidays.

Like the wise men, we have to take a detour around these dangers. If we are going to gain access to Jesus, we are challenged to find another way. The wise men protected Jesus by evading the expectations of Herod, and we should follow this same path. Our access to Jesus may require eliminating some of the Christmas expectations that can elevate our anxiety.

Fact is, we don’t need to obsess about holiday decorations, and insist that our houses be stuffed with green holly branches and red poinsettia . But even if we scale back our expectations and downsize our decorations, we’re still going to face some dangers as we make our way through the season. Life has a way of shattering our serenity, even when we do our best to keep the chaos under control.

So how does Christmas work?

It works when we remember that Christmas now, as then, is a dangerous business. It is dangerous because it evokes dreams and hopes. There’s a scene in the movie, The Shawshank Redemption, where Andy says to his best friend, “Hope is a dangerous thing. The reality is that we’re in here, and hope is out there.”

Christmas is not easy, and in fact it can be costly, because it demands that we put “the hopes and fears of all the years” to work. It calls on us to give muscle to our aspirations and dreams. And that’s not easy. But if we do it, Christmas works.

Christmas works when we shatter the false gods of materialism, and the idols of ambition, and the demons of self-importance, and set up the Christ child as the promise and priority of our lives. When Christ is the center of our daily living, then the other demons will fade away.

When we honor Christ, and not the culture of Christmas, as it were, then Christmas, ironically, really works.

Finally, we honor Christmas when we allow it to take us to a foreign land. The text today tells us about the flight of the holy family into Egypt. Jesus often leads us into unknown territory. We find ourselves in uncharted waters. But that’s what Christmas is about, letting Jesus take our hand and lead us along our journey.

Tony Campolo tells the story about the late Mike Yaconelli, who told the story about a deacon in his church who wasn’t deaking. He just didn’t do what he was supposed to do as a deacon.

One day he said to the deacon, “I have a group of young people who go to the old folks home and put on a worship service once a month. Would you drive them to the old folks home and at least do that?” The deacon agreed.

The first Sunday the deacon was at the old folks home, he was in the back with his arms folded as the kids were doing their thing up front. All of a sudden, someone was tugging at his arm. He looked down, and here was this old man in a wheelchair. He took hold of the old man’s hand and the old man held his hand all during the service. The next month that was repeated. The man in the wheelchair came and held the hand of the deacon.

The next month, the next month, and the next month.

Then the old man wasn’t there. The deacon inquired and he was told, “Oh, he’s down the hall, right hand side, third door. He’s dying. He’s unconscious, but if you want to go down and pray over his body that’s all right.”

The deacon went and there were tubes and wires hanging out all over the place. The deacon took the man’s hand and prayed that God would receive the man, that God would bring this man from this life into the next and give him eternal blessings.

As soon as he finished the prayer, the old man squeezed the deacon’s hand and the deacon knew that he had been heard. He was so moved by this that tears began to run down his cheeks.

He stumbled out of the room and as he did so he bumped into a woman. She said, “He’s been waiting for you. He said that he didn’t want to die until he had the chance to hold the hand of Jesus one more time.”

The deacon was amazed at this. He said, “What do you mean?”

She said, “Well, my father would say that once a month Jesus came to this place. ‘He would take my hand and he would hold my hand for a whole hour. I don’t want to die until I have the chance to hold the hand of Jesus one more time.’”

Christmas works when we let Jesus take us into unfamiliar territory — a nursing home, a neighbor’s home, or into something even more bizarre, like an attitude adjustment, a generous spirit, a helping hand. Whatever.

The point is that whenever and wherever we go, we are the hand of Jesus to others, and when that happens — Christmas happens.

Christmas works!