Sermon for December 24th, 2016
Isaiah 9:1-7
1But there will be no gloom for those who were in anguish. In the former time he brought into contempt the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, but in the latter time he will make glorious the way of the sea, the land beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the nations.
2The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness—on them light has shined. 3You have multiplied the nation, you have increased its joy; they rejoice before you as with joy at the harvest, as people exult when dividing plunder. 4For the yoke of their burden, and the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor, you have broken as on the day of Midian. 5For all the boots of the tramping warriors and all the garments rolled in blood shall be burned as fuel for the fire.
6For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders; and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. 7His authority shall grow continually, and there shall be endless peace for the throne of David and his kingdom. He will establish and uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time onward and forevermore. The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this.
Mistaking the Gift
It was Christmas Eve, and the young couple had waited too long (like so many parents do) to assemble the special Christmas gift they had purchased online for their children. And what a surprise it would be--a three-story, wooden treehouse and playground set for the backyard. Still, the young husband and wife were determined to get it all put together before Christmas morning, so they worked late into the night, carefully following the instructions.
Sometime just after midnight, they realized that the treehouse did not, in fact, very much resemble a treehouse. But still they plodded on, hoping against hope that all would turn out right in the end. It was in the wee hours of the morning when they finally realized that there must have been a mix-up at the warehouse, and that what they had actually assembled was a large wooden sailboat.
A few days after this Christmas fiasco, the frustrated couple wrote a letter to the company to complain about the mistake, and a few weeks after that, they received the following reply: "Dear Mr. and Mrs. so and so -- while we truly regret the inconvenience this mistake must have caused you and your children, we ask that you please put things in perspective, and rest assured that yours is only a minor inconvenience, when compared to that of the poor soul who is out on a lake somewhere valiantly trying to sail your treehouse."
Tonight's sermon is entitled, "Mistaking the Gift" and it's something I think we do a lot of around this time of year.
When I was about ten years old, I had the unfortunate habit of rummaging through the attic around Christmas time, because I knew that's where my parents liked to hide our Christmas presents. One year, I found a toy robot in the attic, and naturally assumed it was for me--even though it wasn't something that had been on my Christmas wish list that year. I mentioned to my parents that I wanted a toy robot, and they reminded me that I already one--a really expensive, high-tech, programmable one that I had received just a few years ago (the one in the attic, by comparison, was pretty cheap, and mostly just beeped and spun around in circles). But I was resolute. I wanted that robot. It had to be mine. In some strange way, I thought I was doing my parents a favor by registering my strong desire for something they had already gotten me.
So you can imagine my surpise on Christmas morning when one of my younger brothers unrapped a gift to find...my robot...which had never really been intended for me in the first place...which I had never *really* wanted in the first place... But after all those weeks of anticipating it, I had become convinced that my life would never be complete without it, and so I sulked and pouted for the rest of the day, and none of the dozens of other presents I got that year (which I had actually asked for, and actually wanted) could possibly be good enough. And I was absolutely furious with my little brother, who, ironically, actually *had* asked for the robot, and probably the only reason he wanted it was to be like his big brother, who already had one.
How easy it is to mistake the gift; to confuse what we already have for what we think we want. How easy it is to miss all the clues and context and so confuse what's meant for us, and what has always been meant for another.
Today's scripture reading from Isaiah is a familiar one to us: We read it every year around Christmas. This time of year we especially like verses 6 and 7:
"For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders; and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. 7His authority shall grow continually, and there shall be endless peace for the throne of David and his kingdom. He will establish and uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time onward and forevermore."
A child has been born to us. Naturally, we assume, this must be talking about Jesus, whose birth we celebrate at Christmas. But remember, this passage comes in Isaiah, in the Old Testament, the Hebrew scriptures, and it was written 700 years before the time of Christ. Is it a prophecy? Perhaps. But it also made perfect sense in the time in which it was written.
It was a dark time for the people of northern Israel--the Zebulun, Naphtali, and Galillee mentioned in the first verse of Isaiah chapter nine. Their once-proud country had been overrun and conquered by the Assyrians. Verse 5 mentions "the boots of the tramping warriors and all the garments rolled in blood." These were a reality for Israelites in the 8th century BCE. Some of them were carted away as slaves, but thosands of them fled south, to the city of Jerusalem in the tiny kingdom of Judah, also a Hebrew nation like theirs.
They likely traveled on foot, hence the line "the people who have walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness (northern Israel)-- on them light has shined. That light was the light of protection and freedom in Jerusalem, their new home. This great influx of refugees took the tiny city of Jerusalem from a population of under 1,000 to over 15,000 in just a few years. This is reflected in verse 3: "You have multiplied the nation, you have increased its joy."
In America today, some people see an influx of refugees as a bad thing. In Jerusalem it was an unquestioned positive. It meant a larger tax base, more soldiers for the army, more skilled labor, and more power and prestige in general for a once-tiny nation. However, in the ancient world, all the stability and protection of a nation were closely tied to the existence of its King, and (more importantly) to the exisstence of the King's line of succession, or sons.
King Manasseh, a direct descendant of the great King David, had ruled over Jerusalem for over 50 years, during the time of its greatest expansion. He had one son, Amon, who was very unpopular with the people, and would eventually be assasinated by his own servants just two years into his reign. Suffice it to say that hopes were not high for the future of the House of David.
