"I Like Baby Jesus Best!"
Luke 2:22-35, 40
December 28, 2008
St. Paul United Methodist Church
Rev. John A. Fleming
A cartoon in the New Yorker Magazine says it all and shows it all. In the middle of the floor is a dried up and withering Christmas tree with some of the ornaments falling off of it. The calendar on the wall shows that it is December the twenty-sixth. Dad is still in his chair and there is an ice pack on his head. Mom is still in her bath robe and her hair is in rollers. The floor is a mountain of boxes and wrapping paper and bows. A young boy reaches one more time into the stocking that used to be hung from the chimney with care, in hopes that a little bit of candy was still in there. In the background, you can see the dining room table. It has not been cleared. There are plates and cups on it and so is a half-eaten turkey. The caption under the cartoon simply reads: The Day After.
Well today is not the morning after, but it is three mornings after Christmas and if you are like most, then Christmas is a memory. For many the decorations are down and packed away. If they are not, most likely they will be before we flip our calendars from 2008 to 2009. The days before Christmas are filled with so much hustle and bustle. There is last minute shopping and a dinner or two to get on the table. The days are filled with so many activities and emotions and then it is suddenly over.
Some are glad that it is suddenly over while others wish that it wasn't. And then there are those who are let down by it all. I understand that therapists and counselors call these days after Christmas, the Christmas Slump.
I heard about a church that had a misprint in one of their Christmas Day worship bulletins. The mistake came in the listing of the choir's anthem. It should have read I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day, but instead it read, I Heard the Bills on Christmas Day. Christmas bills will definitely put you in a Christmas slump!
I don't know how it is for you, but I could use a few calm days strung together. That is one of the things I like about the days following Christmas Day. The days before Christmas are filled with obligations and demands and sermons that have to be better than ever. No one expects that today. In the church we often call today National Associate Pastor Sunday. Not many Senior Pastors are preaching this morning, but I am glad that I am.
Susie and my girls are in Nashville this morning and are probably in church worshiping with her mom. They left on Friday and it has been quiet at the parsonage. I like that from time to time, not for very long, but from time to time.
Friends, how is it that Christmas leaves us so quickly? It was just the other night that we heard angels singing and shepherds tending and a young mother to be and frightened father making their way to Bethlehem for taxation purposes. Barbara Brown Taylor is correct when she preaches that the entire town of Bethlehem was clogged with travelers.
How does Christmas leave us so quickly? We may be like Will Ferrell's character, Ricky Bobby, in the movie Talladega Nights who says that he likes the Christmas Jesus best. When he prays, he prays to that Jesus. His wife says, "Jesus did grow up. You don't always have to call him baby Jesus." Ricky Bobby counters, "I like the Christmas Jesus best." Many of us do. When Jesus grows up he's so much more demanding.
If you're like Ricky Bobby, if you like the baby Jesus best, then I have good news for you. There are only two or three stories in all of scripture that include the baby Jesus. There is the visit of the wise men recorded only in Matthew's gospel, and there is this story. Luke tells us that the holy family made their way to the Temple in Jerusalem when Jesus was only a month old.
Luke brings together two religious observances that both tell us that Mary and Joseph took their religious commitments seriously. One of these observances had to do with Mary being ritually clean and able to worship again after giving birth. The second one was the symbolic act of dedicating their first born son to God and His service. Little did Mary and Joseph know how much so! This second observance was a tradition that went way back, back to remembering when God spared the lives of sons on the day of Passover.
So Mary and Joseph go to the Temple in Jerusalem and begin to walk up the steps. Among those at the Temple is an old man named Simeon. Our lesson tells us that Simeon was both righteous and devout. Luke tells us two more things about him that both have to do with God's Holy Spirit. First, the Spirit had revealed to him that he would not die until he had seen the Lord's Messiah. Luke also tells us that it was God's Spirit that led Simeon to the Temple steps this day.
Here is how I think it happened. Simeon must have been there standing on one of the top steps of the Temple stairs, waiting for the Messiah to come up those steps, but not really sure what the Messiah would look like. Because he was not sure, he must have looked into everyone's eyes. He even asked to look at the babies who were being brought for the same purpose Jesus was being brought.
Climbing those steps were Mary and Joseph with baby Jesus. Simeon must have held out his arms. I'm sure he asked, "Can I hold your baby?" I know, I know, it is a strange request. If Simeon had been a family friend and if all this took place at the hospital, it might be a little easier to understand. Simeon was, after all, a stranger, but he was at the Temple. Maybe it would be all right.
Mary looks over at Joseph and gently hands her baby over to Simeon. He held him ever so carefully and pulled back the blanket every so gently so that he could see the baby's face. Simeon smiled and who knows, perhaps Jesus smiled back at him. Simeon looked up at Mary, glancing upwards to God, and then handed Jesus back to his mother.
Do you remember what happened next? Simeon broke out in song. There's been a lot of singing this Christmas season. Angel and angelic choirs have been singing. Mary sang in one of our scripture lessons from last Sunday, a song we've come to call the Magnificat.
Now Simeon sings, but it is a strange song with strange words. You need a modern translation to get them. Listen to the Contemporary English Version, "Now Lord, you can let me, your servant, die in peace. With my own eyes I have seen your salvation which you prepared for all people. It is a light for non-Jewish people to see and an honor for your own people, the Israelites." The messiah has come. That is why Simeon sings that song. As incredible as it is, the Messiah is right there in front of him.
Church, I wish I could tell you that the story ends there, with Simeon singing the way all good worship services end. That is not what happens. After his song comes a prophesy. Simeon says, "This child is set for the rise and fall of many." That is not what Gabriel had told Mary. Gabriel had said that of his kingdom there would be no end and that his name would be great. Gabriel hadn't said anything about rising and falling. While Mary is trying to take all that in, Simeon says one more thing, "A sword will pierce through your soul, too." What starts out being a nice little story about the baby Jesus ends up sending us to the cross. Jesus' entire life is flashing before our eyes.
I may have shared this with you before, but there is a painting painted by William Holman Hunt that was completed after three years of his working on it in the early 1870s. Hunt finished it after his second trip to the Holy land. In it Jesus is working in the carpentry shop and at the end of the long day, he stretches. The shadow of his body and upraised arms falls on a rack of tools on the wall behind him. The cast shadow looks like Jesus on a cross. I have put the picture on our worship bulletin this morning.
What is interesting about the painting is that the artist has Mary in the scene, gazing up at the shadow on the wall after having been looking in a box that still contains the gifts from the wise men. The years had gone by and Mary had watched Jesus grow up. Maybe in the back of her mind was what Simeon had said. From that day on the cross was in front of her.
It is in front of us, too. Someone once asked me if given the chance would I rather have Christmas or Easter. If I chose Easter there would be no Christmas and if I chose Christmas there would be no Easter. I said, "I want both!" I love Christmas with its duties and demands and lights and celebrations. I like a calm and quiet night and then the pierce of the baby's cry. A baby being born is much easier than when a death happens.
Easter reminds us that Jesus did not just come down here to be with us for a while and then to go back to heaven. Jesus came, as John put it, so that those who believe in him would not perish. Jesus came so that we would inherit and enjoy eternal life. I guess if I had to choose, I would choose Easter.
Jesus sure does grow up fast, but I am glad he does. He has come to save us and to help us and today we take the first steps with him towards his cross. Let us pray.
(Special thanks to the artist who drew the cartoon in the New Yorker Magazine. Thanks to the writers of Talladega Nights who have given us the line in our sermon. And thanks to the preacher friend of mine who shared about the painting I referred to in our sermon. I got the picture and the background information about it at www.wikipedia.com)