The Lion of Judah
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Pastor Keith GeRue Sermon for Advent 2 December 7, 2016 The Lion of Judah Genesis 49:8-12 8 “Judah, your brothers shall praise you; your hand shall be on the neck of your enemies; your father's sons shall bow down before you. 9 Judah is a lion's cub; from the prey, my son, you have gone up. He stooped down; he crouched as a lion and as a lioness; who dares rouse him? 10 The scepter shall not depart from Judah, nor the ruler's staff from between his feet, until tribute comes to him; and to him shall be the obedience of the peoples. 11 Binding his foal to the vine and his donkey's colt to the choice vine, he has washed his garments in wine and his vesture in the blood of grapes. 12 His eyes are darker than wine, and his teeth whiter than milk. In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. If you do an Internet search for “the lion of Judah,” you will find some very interesting uses of the term. “The lion of Judah” is used to name the most amazing array of think tanks, commercial enterprises, Web sites, books, conspiracy theories, and cults of every stripe, including Rastafarian, Jewish, and Christian cults. Shockingly, my Internet search turned up few references to the Christ born in Bethlehem who was worshiped by the sages. What the Internet misses, the Quempas Carol speaks of so simply and beautifully. He whom sages, westward faring, Myrrh and gold and incense bearing, Humbly worshiped, off’rings sharing, Judah’s lion reigns this morn! God’s own Son is born a child; God the Father is reconciled! The sages of which the Carol speaks are our Wise Men or Magi, as Matthew calls them. Whether there were three or five or ten, we don’t know. Scripture doesn’t tell us. We just presume, and probably Page 1 of 4 Pastor Keith GeRue Sermon for Advent 2 December 7, 2016 wrongly, that the presence of three gifts—gold, frankincense, and myrrh—requires three gift givers. The Magi and their gifts are important not in themselves. The Wise Men disappear from the Bible as swiftly and dramatically as they appear, as though the fear of Herod’s retribution chased them eastward proceeding, forever out of the land and completely out of the picture. These foreign dignitaries are ignored in Luke, the Gospel presumably written for foreigners, Gentiles. The Wise Men came not for themselves. They weren’t just thrill seekers or vacationers traveling through the Scripture like accidental tourists placed in the story for dramatization. This isn’t the plot line for “The Three Kings’ Christmas Vacation” movie, starring Chevy Chase as Balthazar. It’s not as though one of them said to the others, “Jerusalem is just beautiful this time of year. Let’s go there for Christmas.” So they aren’t planning to get away for Christmas either. The Magi traveled to see the King. They came to see Judah’s lion. Judah’s lion is what the story is for. They carried the threefold gifts—gold, frankincense, and myrrh—not to gain entrance to a housewarming party or a baby shower. They didn’t stop at the Bethlehem location of Babies “R” Us on the way to the house to pick up a little something like a crib mobile or baby’s first baseball glove. No, they carried all the way from home all the richest gifts: the gold of Sheba (Psalm 72:15) and the aromatic resins of Arabia, frankincense and myrrh—gifts fit for a king. They came to acknowledge the King. They traveled to see Judah’s lion. They knew the promise: “You are a lion’s cub, O Judah. The scepter will not depart from Judah” (Genesis 49:9–10). The eternal throne and kingdom would reside in the hands of Judah’s King. Ours is not the first time in history in which there was a longing and desire for universal community and governance over all people. In our time it is called the New World Order. But our term ring with totalitarianism. Once the Wise Men, like many others of their time, looked and prayed longingly for a kingdom of perfect peace and prosperity. They longed for Eden’s promise to be brought to its full fruition: a land flowing with milk and honey. This was the land in which Adam and Eve were created and to which the new Adam would lead all of Eve’s children. This is the land that effortlessly fed the first Adam and that at the re-creation would offer eternal manna into the hands of the second Adam for the children of the first. The Magi knew and hoped fervently for all this. They eagerly followed the star sent by God to guide them to the King. But somewhere along the road the star disappeared from their view. Was it extinguished? Did inclement weather shroud it in darkness? Or did they lose sight of it? Perhaps they were so diligently consulting their maps for the best roads to Jerusalem that they no longer looked for God’s direction. Maybe they were working on speeches that they planned to give in honor of the King. Or were they considering how honored they would be by the King’s family when they arrived to worship and bless this promised universal ruler. They were, after all, looking for a king, a great king. And where was such a king to be born but in the capital? Of course he would be in Jerusalem. That’s only reasonable. So that’s where they went. Straight to Herod’s palace. Here the search for the lion of Judah hit a dead end. The lion’s whelp, a lion in the very prime of his life, full of vigor and power, Herod was not. He was more like the cranky, flea-bitten, toothless old lion in the movie Secondhand Lions. He was far from the prime of life, although still full of suspicion and slaughter. And as for Herod’s children, who were potential potentates if they survived the claws of the old lion, they were at best only shadows of the old man. About them Caesar Augustus quipped, “I would rather be one of Herod’s swine than one of Herod’s sons.” For Herod had slaughtered more sons than swine. Page 2 of 4 Pastor Keith GeRue Sermon for Advent 2 December 7, 2016 The Magi were jolted out of their daydreams of honor and glory when they met with the cold reception of an affronted Herod, obviously angered by their statement that there was a newborn king in Judah and that they meant to see him and even worship him. The priests were hurriedly consulted by the agitated old man. There was no king but him; so where could Judah’s lion be born? From Micah came the answer: “But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me one who will be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from of old, from ancient times” (Micah 5:2). But Herod wasn’t about to tell the Magi what he knew. True to form, the old lion was afraid of the new. After some quiet comings and goings in the night in Herod’s palace, the Magi were treated to a sneaky and hypocritical aside before being shoved out the back door into the night. “There is no king here, gentlemen,” said Herod. “There is no king but me. But if you happen to find one, please let me know about it. Yes, do come back and enjoy more of my hospitality and tell me all about it, so that I, too, may—(how did you gentlemen put it?)—worship him.” That threw cold water on the whole enterprise. The Magi expected the whole city of Jerusalem to be celebrating in the streets that the lion of Judah was born, but no one had even heard of him. The Magi, like aged Solomon, had depended on their own wisdom. Now that their own wisdom had failed them, where to? And just when they recognized that feeble human reason had misled them, then the star reappeared. The Magi, once misled, now were rescued from their own ignorant wisdom by the wisdom of God. The star twinkled joy and called to them to follow. What else is there to do when God calls? No matter where he leads, we follow. Jerusalem it wasn’t. And there was the house in which they found the child. It was not a palace, for a king. Appalling! It was only a small peasant’s hut, at best consisting of two rooms—and one of those for the family animals. There were no servants and no security guards—none of the trappings of royalty, whether modern or ancient. All they could find was a quiet little mother and her child. This family was not unlike a dozen others in Bethlehem. They wouldn’t have come here except that the star stopped over the place. Could this be Judah’s lion? There was no celebration of the child’s world-changing birth. There was no sign of the scepter that would never leave his grip. The land of milk and honey was nowhere to be seen. In the streets of Bethlehem, they had seen children more excited about the birth of a puppy than about the birth of this child.