Sunday After Christmas – The Response of the World
Sermon Preached by Reverend Michael Hillier on Sunday, 29 December 2024.
Matthew 2.1 – 18, Luke 2.8 – 20.
We come to our fourth and final Address. So far, we have examined the responses of Mary, Joseph, and Elizabeth. If you like, these were all insiders. This doesn’t mean their responses were easy, but they were all in a relationship with God.
Now, I would like to examine the responses of four other groups that were not insiders, at least in the sense that I have been using this term: the shepherds, the Wise Men, King Herod, and the religious authorities.
Let’s start with the verses relating to the shepherds and the Wise Men. (Read Luke 2.8-20) Isn’t it interesting that the first people told the good news were outsiders, probably misfits? These were the shepherds. So why were they outsiders and probably misfits? As shepherds, they could not possibly keep the letter of the Jewish Law with all its ritual requirements, and so to the purists, they were unclean and probably permanently so. Thus, they would be automatically excluded from the Temple.
Spending so much time out in the hills, away from human company, probably meant they were also people who did not easily fit in with others. The countryside was also where brigands dwelt, and I am sure their paths would at least occasionally cross. Was there a mutual arrangement, a sharing of information? Or did they keep their distance from each other? We shall never know.
So why would the angels of God come to them first? When you think about it, it’s probably apparent. In the Hebrew Scriptures, time and again, we see that God has a special place in His heart for the outsider, the one whom society excludes in some way or other.
There is, perhaps, an interesting bit of symbolism here. Shepherds are a very important sub-theme in the Hebrew Scriptures. Jesus would become the Good Shepherd. It seems natural then that the angels would visit the shepherds first with the good news, thus linking the two.
Sitting out there in the hill country with sheep and goats, shepherds had lots of time to think about life, God, themselves. They had time to ponder the natural world around them. They may be nature mystics. Perhaps, like the tax collectors in that parable of Jesus, they had no ‘airs and graces’ or pretence about them. They knew they were unworthy and didn’t try to pretend otherwise.
When this marvellous event occurred, yes, at first, they were terrified, but that soon gave way to joy. They knew that God must love them despite their unworthiness. And this was a gratuitous gift; they had not earned it; in fact, they couldn’t earn it.
There are important lessons for us who try to take our relationship with God seriously. Pride is the first sin: thinking ourselves better, more holy, and closer to God than others. Beware, for we are treading on dangerous ground, quicksand. On Ash Wednesday, as the ash is marked on our foreheads, we hear, ‘Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.’
There is some, but not all that much difference, between the greatest saint and the greatest sinner when we place them alongside the absolute holiness of God. Never forget your humble origins as God’s creation if you want your faith to continue deepening.
Now to the Wise Men. (Read Matthew 2.1-2, 9-12) What a distance they were willing to travel to meet and worship the Christ Child! And notice when they met Him, they didn’t ask for anything. They came to adore.
In the popular mind, religion is reduced from a relationship with Jesus to being moral—religion is about morality—so too, many people reduce that relationship to asking for things. The technical terms are petition for oneself and intercession for others. Morality is essential, and our society will soon collapse without it. Petition and intercession are also fundamental. For example, Jesus told us to pray for our daily bread. But if religion and our relationship with God are reduced to that, well, we are in deep trouble.
Would you not tire of your small child simply asking for things? Never saying sorry to you, never saying I love you, never saying thank you. Just ‘I want …’ or ‘Can I have …’ You don’t stop loving them, though; slowly, you try to teach your child. And the wonderful thing is that God, in the same way, is infinitely patient with you and me.
So, like the Wise Men, find lots of time for adoration. Adoration naturally complements meditation and contemplation.
The Curé d’Ars once asked a peasant, who he had noticed often sitting quietly in Church, what he did while sitting there. Came the reply, ‘I look at God, and He looks at me, and we’re both happy.’ That sums it up, doesn’t it?
Now, we move on to see the response of the third person – King Herod. He has always had bad press, but I don’t think he began that way. It was probably there, though in nascent form, for power was vital to him. (Read Matthew 2.1-3,16-18)
Herod was appointed governor in 47 BC, then king in 40 BC, and ruled until 4 BC. The Romans trusted him, and he was called Herod the Great, and in many ways, he deserved that title.
He rebuilt the Temple, a magnificent feat. When times were difficult for the people, he eased the taxation burden. In 25 BC, during a famine, he melted down his gold plate to buy food for ordinary people.
But something went very wrong. What was it? Well, he was suspicious and became increasingly so as the years passed. In the end, murder came so easily to him as he sought to eliminate any rival, real or imagined. It is little wonder that he would perceive Jesus as a threat and immediately make plans to destroy Him.
Think about this! Herod lavishly rebuilds God’s Temple but tries to kill God’s Son. It doesn’t make sense, and yet, it does.
For Herod, religion was not about a relationship with God but a means of social control of people. But it’s not! It’s about a relationship. A relationship that is deep and solid and loving and trusting. The kind that we saw with Mary, Joseph and Elizabeth.
Each of us has a darker side, which is very noticeable in someone like Herod. You and I may not do murderous things like Herod, but there is violence in our hearts, and we are all capable of doing terrible things. The fact that you and I can watch a television murder mystery and figure out who committed the crime demonstrates this.
As we grow in our relationship with God, we may become aware of our darker side. The tendency and danger is to take fright and move quickly to denial, for we are too ‘nice’ to have such thoughts.
Meditation, in particular, can allow these darker areas to surface. So, what should we do if we are meditating?
Well, I don’t want to pretend to be a psychiatrist or psychologist, but I think the answer is to do absolutely nothing. Notice them when they come to the surface and leave it at that. Don’t move into denial, don’t do anything with them, don’t think about them. Just let them sit. Just be accepting of them.
If we allow it, healing something of our deeper self is taking place, and God is doing His own thing deep within us. They are areas that can’t stand the light of day, yet they need to come to the light of day. So, as I said, just let them sit.
We come now to the last group, and in some way, I think they are the most difficult – this was the chief priest and scribes. (Read Matthew 2.3-6)
What seems surprising to me is their indifference. Where is their delight at the possibility that this could be the One for whom they have been waiting; aren’t they curious at the very least?
There was surprise, fear, and amazement among the others. Even Herod had passion, if only for killing. But there is nothing with these, the chief priests and the scribes! No passion, no feeling. It seems just the shell of faith with all the ‘right’ answers.
Sometimes in our society, it’s said, ‘It’s not what you know, but who you know that counts’. In this case, it is true. It is knowing Jesus – intimately – that counts. With these chief priests and scribes, it was the other way around: a question of what you knew rather than who you knew.
Obviously, I am not trying to make this an either/or situation. Once again, we can point the finger, shake our heads, and say, ‘How sad’. But you and I have
had, and no doubt will have again, times when we settle for less. Times when we go through the motions, when we settle for mediocrity, and when we are wearied by it all.
Conversion is not a once-for-all event. We must be converted daily, which requires recognising our actual situation and repenting.
In this way, we slowly become Christians from the inside out, are deeply formed in the Faith, and have a deep and abiding relationship with God that is not subject to the whims of the moment.
So, we come to the end of these four sermons on the response theme. May we have Mary’s faith reflected in her inner beauty. Mary was so in love with God that she did what must have seemed an act of madness to an outsider.
May we, like Joseph, be open to the possibility of taking giant steps in our faith despite the struggle this will bring. May our relationship with God be honest and gutsy, not polite.
And like Elizabeth, may we have a good and generous heart full of praise and gratefulness to God that wells up from a truly humble heart.
The shepherds, too, had that humility. And may we have, like the wise men, a heart that genuinely adores our Lord and Saviour and is not simply self-seeking.
And unlike King Herod, may we face the darkness in our lives.
May we also always be alert to those times when we are just going through the motions. May our faith never be reduced to an empty shell that we see with the chief priests and scribes.