January 2, 2022 – 2nd Sunday of Christmas

How do you reflect God’s light after the Christmas season?

The countries of our world continue to make decisions about whether and how to accept refugees. Here in the United States, we call these refugees who come into the U.S. without proper documentation “illegal aliens”. I’m sure that many of them certainly wish that they could stay in their own place, in their own homes, surrounded by friends and family, in the culture that they know and love. But so many make the horrible choice to risk a dangerous journey, to be uprooted from what they know and love, than to stay where they or their children may not survive another day.

In today’s Gospel story from Matthew, Jesus becomes — with his parents — a refugee. In a story that is as ancient as the human race and yet as modern as tomorrow’s top new story, the family flees a tyrant who doesn’t care if children live or die.

Today, just eight days after we celebrate the birth of Jesus, we aren’t allowed to be nostalgic about the picture of the baby swaddled and lying in a manger. We already have a weeping, suffering God. This isn’t the reading or sermon any of us wants to hear while our Christmas trees are still lit. Instead, we want to focus on the smiling faces of children playing with their new toys, communities in harmony, and peace on earth.

And yet, how many of us — parents, aunts, uncles, cousins of those children — have stood over a sleeping baby in a crib and thought of the promise and fears of the future? We’ve prayed that we could take away all the pain that the child might know. All of the danger. All of the evil. We have dreaded the day that some evil would enter their world that we could not keep away. In every newborn, there is a promise of a future, but the hovering of danger, illness, and evil. If this hadn’t been true for Jesus, then Jesus would not have been one of us. 

It was terrible that the God of creation would allow the tyranny of some king like Herod, and that the child would have to be relocated 200 miles away to a foreign land to be hidden. It is terrible that children in our own town are hungry, neglected, abused, and afraid. It is terrible that the world stands by as children in other countries, often with colored skin and a different religion from ours, suffer deeply from hunger or evil.

We believe that in Jesus, God has taken on our humanness in all its forms. The child experiences delight and wonder as he discovers his toes, says his first words, runs to his parents’ arms when he is afraid, or plays with the wood shavings on the floor in his father’s shop. Then his life is threatened by a dangerous ruler; and his family is on the run, desperate, terrified, and determined to survive.

Some of Jesus’ earliest memories may have been sensing the fear in his parents’ voices as they told him not to play outside, as they hid him until they were out of danger. So poverty and homelessness were not unknown to Jesus. But just as Jesus and his family survives, they must experience grief over the children who aren’t saved, and perhaps some of them are even friends.

Let’s think about the reception that Joseph, Mary, and Jesus must have received in Egypt. Do you think they were warmly received? I think it’s pretty unlikely. As they and other refugees arrive, their Egyptian neighbors were probably complaining about “those people” who dressed differently, observed a different religion, cooked and ate different foods, had strange holidays, and didn’t understand or respect local customs. And they were going to take the jobs that someone else needed. Plus they didn’t even speak the same language… they needed to learn it so they could be part of society!

I think it’s probable that these early life experiences for Jesus and the stories his parents recount probably help to shape Jesus’ later ministry to those marginalized people – the oppressed, the poor, the widowed, the sick. We see him warmly accepting people from other places, religions, and races. He eats with them, laughs with them, and warmly welcomes the outsider. This is the true incarnation.

When we find ourselves at the pinnacle of Christmas joy, we experience Jesus as a boy delighting in every new discovery. When we know difficulty, illness, or loss, we experience Jesus as one who knew deep suffering. When we wonder who cares about all those forgotten people, we experience Jesus as a young boy whose family was forced to become refugees to survive. 

And this is the truth and beauty of Christmas. As the season fades, its complex story still lives within each of us. How does each one of us reflect its light? Are we companionship to the lonely? Do we fill backpacks with food or school supplies for children? Do we care for family, friend, or neighbor? Do we courageously support all refugees who flee from despair and fear into a land of safety and hope?

We have to choose whether to be ruled by faith or by fear of the other. Our true choice is aided by remembering the entire Jesus story, not just the beginning and the end. Without the difficult parts, it’s simply a fairy tale. Recognizing the harshness of life gives our faith reality, meaning, and purpose. When we allow our faith and courage to surface, we open ourselves to receive all the benefits of welcoming new people into our communities and our lives.