HOMECOMING
December 18, 2005
Texts – Isaiah 60: 1-5a
Matthew 1: 18-25
Garrison Keillor, in one of his Lake Wobegon stories, pictures Christmas in his old hometown. All the “exiles” return, he says. That's what he calls them: exiles. All the people who left that little community to make it big in the world out there, Keillor says, they all come home for Christmas. And some of them go to church with their aging parents and some of them don’t. And yet, somehow, as they’re forced to face the old home town, as they’re confronted again by who they are and what they’ve become, there’s a sort of wistfulness that sets in.
“You see,” says Keillor, “they are all believers of one sort or another. Some of them have believed in themselves, or in their good looks, or in their skills, or in their luck. They are all believers. But here’s the crunch of Christmas – as they see the old houses again, as they talk to their wrinkled grandparents, and as they walk the streets that now seem so short and crude, they wonder to themselves. They wonder in their heart of hearts if they’ve chosen the right gods to believe in.”
Interesting image, isn’t it? “Christmas Exiles” Garrison Keillor calls them, and they are coming to a home near yours this week, of that you can be sure. Some may even be staying in your guest room. Need I add, some are here right now, bags all packed for the trip back home later this week. Believers to a person, but in what gods have we trusted? It’s a question worth pondering on this last Sunday before Christmas.
There were, of course, multiple gods to choose from in Jesus’ day, even as there are now in our own. Back then the list included the gods of power and revenge, the gods of bread and circuses. They’re still around, albeit carefully disguised. Now we speak of self-fulfillment, of independence and autonomy – which, when you stop to think about them, have always been the attributes of the powerful. Indeed, they are what power is all about: the ability to make one’s way through this world on your own terms, calling the shots as you see them, not as somebody else tells you they have to be. Nothing wrong with that as a goal, as long as we bear in mind its limitations.
I love the story of the businessman of authority and leadership who always viewed himself as independent, able to manage his own life, without any real needs. He was, by all standards, successful in managing his life without outside assistance. Then the day came that he was able to retire, and he slipped into a rather unproductive intrusion upon his wife’s daily routine, becoming little more than a fixture on the couch.
One day, during a commercial break from one of his favorite shows, he initiated a rather odd conversation with his wife. He said, “You know I can’t stand the thought of being dependent. So just so you know, I don’t ever want to become dependent on a machine and live in a vegetative condition. If that ever happens, just pull the plug.” Quietly she replied “OK,” then she got up, walked across the living room and unplugged the television set.
I’ll bet you it’s a true story! Be careful what you say during halftime in the next few weeks,
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We are all believers, even those of us who claim to believe in nothing. Show me a person’s checkbook, or their credit card statement, and I’ll bet you I can name at least some of the gods they worship. There’s a frightening thought! Reminds me of that classic stewardship sermon one soon-to-be-unemployed minister preached to his financially struggling congregation. “We have all the money we need,” he boomed from the pulpit; “the only problem is that most of it is still in your pockets!”
You didn’t hear it from me.
Ah, the Christmas exiles . . . or, as in our case, the return of the prodigal son or daughter! It’s great to have them home, isn’t it? Wonderful to be reunited with loved ones from whom we’ve been too long separated. And the nostalgia of Christmas can become almost palpable. Familiar foods, the feel of houses warm with the fires of family and friends, lights twinkling in evergreen trees strangely at home in carefully vacuumed living rooms – it’s all a wonderful tradition. But there can be a “crunch” to it as well . . . a wistfulness and a wondering about just how far we’ve really come. Are you feeling that this year?
“There’s a time for the evening under star light,” the poet said long ago, “a time for the evening under lamp light, a time for the photograph album . . .” T. S. Elliot was describing the time of homecoming. The pictures we exam, however, are not just mounted in frames or pasted in books. They are the ones which appear in the mirror as we remember who we used to be and ponder who we are becoming.
We are all believers, as Garrison Keillor says so well. But some of us have made some poor choices along the way, and all of us could do far better than we have.
The Bible is full of stories about people who choose the wrong gods on which to bet their lives. It has even more to say about those who set out to follow the God of Love and Justice but who somehow lose their way. In other words, it is all about you and me. And it says, if you read it fully, that as we again and again come to our senses and own up to who we are and acknowledge that we’ve yet a long way to go we discover something wonderful. The song of Christmas is true – “Joy to the world, the Lord has come!” He comes not as distant judge but as forgiving friend – friend of the hopeless and the helpless; lover of the best that’s in us, and even of our worst. In truth, this old story is no more incredible than the stories of ourselves, of our successes and our failures. God is with us and for us right in the middle of our mistakes and regrets, picking us up and urging us on, saying, “It's all right. I understand. You’ve got a long way to go. But so what else is new? Be of good courage my son ... my daughter; your sins are forgiven.”
When we choose the right God, this God, the God who came in Jesus, regrets there may always be, even consequences at times, but the guilt is always lifted and we can take the road again with a determined spirit and a light heart because God is here. “You will call his name Jesus (which means, Emmanuel – God is with us),” the angel of old said, “for he will save his people from their sins.” And it came to pass in those days . . . and it is still true in our own. “Joy to the world! The Lord has come.” Welcome home, one and all. Let us pray . . .
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Loving God — In the stillness of a starry night you came long ago to a people yearning for the light; come to us here we pray. We thank you for the pathways we have traveled to reach this time and place. Some were smooth and easy; others stony and hard. Each has shaped and molded us into the people we are. Thank you for traveling beside us, especially in those moments when we felt so all alone.
Holy One, your world continues to be ruled by the likes of Caesar Augustus and Herod the Great; every where your people cry out for deliverance and peace. Fashion us as instruments for your caring; make us vessels of your grace. We pray especially this day for those still homeless from the ravages of Katrina along the Gulf Coast of our country . . . for those who shiver in temporary shelters under the onslaught of winter in the Himalayas . . . for those still reeling from the tsunami of southern Asia. Grant them your peace and your power.
We rejoice in the homecomings of this weekend, especially in the homes of those who have been serving in Iraq and Kuwait from our state. With them we thank you for deliverance from evil, even as together we continue to pray for those still in harm’s way.
Let there be peace on earth, Child of Bethlehem, the peace which from the beginning of time has been meant to be. If it be your will, may that peace begin here as together we offer your prayer, saying . . . Our Father who art in heaven ....