Another Way

Another Way
(Matthew 2.1-3, 7-12; “Anthem” by Leonard Cohen; “A Box of Paints”)
A message by Dave Shull
Spirit of Peace United Church of Christ
Sammamish, Washington
Epiphany Sunday – January 1, 2012

The first Sunday of the new calendar year has the grand name Epiphany Sunday. Epiphany is a Greek word that means to make known. The actual day of Epiphany is Jan. 6 – the 12^th day of Christmas. It’s the day when the Wise Ones from the East came with their gifts to the manger. These scholars were the first non-Jews to see Jesus. So Epiphany is when this God who became flesh and blood in Jesus is revealed to non-Jews.

There are lots of things I love about the story of these astrologers from far away. These students of the stars who decide there’s one star they can’t just study. There’s one star they have to follow.

On this new year’s day, the Holy Spirit speaks to me through one part of this story with a special intensity.

Listen for a word from God.

After Jesus was born in Bethlehem village, Judah territory— this was during Herod's kingship—a band of scholars arrived in Jerusalem from the East. They asked around, "Where can we find and pay homage to the newborn King of the Jews? We observed a star in the eastern sky that signaled his birth. We're on pilgrimage to worship him."

When word of their inquiry got to Herod, he was terrified—and not Herod alone, but most of Jerusalem as well. Herod lost no time….He arranged a secret meeting with the scholars from the East. Pretending to be as devout as they were, he got them to tell him exactly when the birth-announcement star appeared. Then he told them the prophecy about Bethlehem, and said, "Go find this child. Leave no stone unturned. As soon as you find him, send word and I'll join you at once in your worship."

Instructed by the king, they set off. Then the star appeared again, the same star they had seen in the eastern skies. It led them on until it hovered over the place of the child. They could hardly contain themselves: They were in the right place! They had arrived at the right time! They entered the house and saw the child in the arms of Mary, his mother. Overcome, they kneeled and worshiped him. Then they opened their luggage and presented gifts: gold, frankincense, myrrh.

In a dream, they were warned not to report back to Herod. So they left the territory without being seen, and returned to their own country by another way
(adapted from Matthew 2.1-3, 7-12, The Message Re-Mix © 2003 Eugene Peterson).

It’s the adverbial phrase at the end of this story that jumps off the page: “[they] returned to their own country by another way” (Matthew 2.12).

A new year is a time for new beginnings. And new beginnings are all about doing something by another way.

The scholars who follow the star to the manger go home by another way. They make a new beginning by changing who and what they worship.

Like any of us, when the scholars start they journey, they don’t know where it will take them. But when they stop following the star, meet with Herod, tell him everything they know about this baby, and seem to agree to return to him when they find him, they show they’ve lost their way. Because instead of worshiping the one the star leads them to, they begin to worship the power that Herod holds. They begin to worship that intoxicating rush one gets hanging out with impressive people. But then they give themselves back to the guidance of the star. They follow it. They see this mother and this infant. And the story says they are “overcome”.

So they choose to worship by another way. They turn away from their worship of human power. And toward the One who is Light and Life. When Light and Life shine through Jesus onto them, they realize all that shone through Herod was that power that comes from keeping people afraid. The star has led them to this Light of God. This is the One whom they now will give their lives for. So they go home by another way.

I wish Matthew had told us how worshiping by another way had changed their lives. But he leaves it up to us to imagine. To imagine what difference it makes when we worship the God of humility and love instead of the gods of power and fear.

But Matthew doesn’t say anything more about them. So how they change by worshiping by another way is left to our imagination. Which may not be a bad thing….

A new year is a time for new beginnings. And new beginnings are all about doing something by another way.

On this new year’s day, songwriter Leonard Cohen asks us to do something by another way.
He asks us to see our brokenness
    not as something to hide or be ashamed of.
He asks us to see our brokenness
    as the way God’s light breaks through us to heal this world.

Linda Srb opened our worship today by singing the first lines of Cohen’s song, “Anthem”.

The birds they sang at the break of day:
    “Start again,” I heard them say.
Don’t dwell on what has passed away
   or what is yet to be.

New year’s day is a time to start again. A time to give each other second and third and thirtieth chances to get it right. Leonard Cohen has us sing about doing life by another way. He knows we cling to past resentments. And dwell in the illusion that if only I had this or if only I were this, my life would be so much better. Cohen tells us to let go of that lie. And to do life another way.

Ring the bells that still can ring.
Don’t dwell on dead dreams.
Go to those places where life awaits you.
Forgive while there’s still a chance.
Ask for pardon while there’s still some love there.
Say “Yes!” to something outrageous while there’s still time.

To any of us who hold ourselves or others to ridiculously high standards, to any of us who fear we’re not good enough or worthy enough for God to love us, Cohen offers a word that frees us:

[F]orget your perfect offering.
There is a crack, a crack in everything – that’s how the light gets in.

I love the poetry. And I don’t know if I trust the poetry. Do I really believe my cracks – my mistakes and wounds and fears are what the living Christ uses to shine the light of his justice and joy through me? Do I really believe if I let people see my mistakes and wounds and fears, that Christ’s light can shine through those cracks and use them to bring healing and hope to others? Instead of just making me feel incompetent and weak? And do I really believe that the cracks in others which I can so easily judge are where I meet the Living Christ, whose light and love heal and bless me?

I know my closest friends are the people I don’t have to hide from. My closest friends are the people who see my cracks. And love me in spite of them…or maybe even because of them. We can impress each other with our talents and abilities. We can blow each other away by our credentials and accomplishments.

But being impressive isn’t the same as being loved. Being impressed isn’t the same as loving. When it comes to loving and being loved, when it comes to being the Body of Jesus Christ, what matters is letting each other see our cracks. What matters is being unashamed we have cracks. Being unembarrassed to let the light of Christ shine through them. Daring to let people see us as we are. And trusting love will come our way anyway. The church is at its best when we welcome one another as the broken and beautiful daughters and sons of God we are. And free each other from the hell of trying to hide our cracks. And say to each other in a way that all of us can trust:
There is a crack, a crack in everything – that’s how the light gets in.

As Linda sings the rest of Leonard Cohen’s “Anthem”, listen for the invitation to live another way in 2012:

We asked for signs, the signs were sent: the birth betrayed, the marriage spent,
yeah the widowhood of every government -- signs for all to see.
I can't run no more with that lawless crowd
while the killers in high places say their prayers out loud.
But they've summoned, they've summoned up a thundercloud
and they're going to hear from me.

You can add up the parts but you won't have the sum,
you can strike up the march, there is no drum.
Every heart, every heart to love will come, but like a refugee.

Refrain: Ring the bells that still can ring, forget your perfect offering.
There is a crack, a crack in everything – that's how the light gets in.
That’s how the light gets in. That’s how the light gets in.

A new year is a time for new beginnings. And new beginnings are all about doing something by another way.

A nameless 12-year-old Israeli girl invites us to love another way on this new year’s day. She wrote a poem that was turned into a song. The song was sung in Oslo, Norway, when Shimon Peres, Yitzhak Rabin, and Yassir Arafat received the Nobel Peace Prize in 1994.

“I Had a Box of Paints.”

I had a box of paints, each color glowing with delight:
I had a box of paints with colors warm and cool and bright.
I had no red for wounds and blood. I had no black for an orphaned child.
I had no white for the face of the dead. I had no yellow for burning sand.
I had orange for joy and life. I had greens for buds and blooms.
I had blue for clear bright skies. I had pink for dreams and rest.
I sat down and painted
peace
(Megan McKenna, Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany: Stories and Reflections on the Sunday Readings, Orbis Books, 1997, p. 220).

You and I can choose how we’re going to love. You and I can choose what colors we’re going to use. We can choose colors that remember past hurts. Colors of anger and coldness and contempt. And we can choose colors that paint peace. Colors that heal and forgive and proclaim a new way to love in this new year. A new beginning that declares a truce and says, Start again!

As you listen to the story of the scholars visiting the baby Jesus, the song of Leonard Cohen, and the poem of this nameless Israeli 12-year-old girl, what do you hear? How is the Spirit of God inviting you to do something by another way in this new year?
-people in the congregations share their thoughts-

Ring the bells that still can ring, forget your perfect offering.
There is a crack, a crack in everything – that's how the light gets in.