January 2, 2000
This second Sunday in the season of Christmas is a day of terrible dread. In this Gospel, we are told of Herod's plot to kill the child and the necessity for the holy family to go into exile.
Here, at the beginning of his life as Jesus is born, we are told in these two Sundays that there were two groups of people who were told that Jesus was the Messiah. The first, you will recall, were the shepherds in the fields, the common folk of Judaism. The second were the Magi, the astrologers from a foreign nation with a foreign religion.
The Christmas season tells us that the light of Christ was declared to be for both the educated and the uneducated, for both the rich and for the poor. The light of Christ is for the person of leisure and the daily worker, for those raised in the community and those outside the community of faith. The light of Christ is for the citizen and for the foreigner.
From the time of the exile in Egypt, Israel has been called to be a light to the nations. In the star that the Magi followed, we have a symbol of what that light means— a small light in the midst of a great darkness; a small light to attract those who see it, not to itself, but to Jesus the incarnate Lord.
Israel often assumed that being a light was for its own privilege; that being a light was for others to admire and to envy. Christians do the same thing. Israel often assumed that being a member of the community of faith was sufficient righteousness before God — so do Christians.
King Herod used the cloak of worship when he told the Magi, "Go and find the child and then come and tell me where he is so that I can worship him too." Herod used that cloak of worship to hide his intent to murder. Unfortunately, Christians so the same thing.
As a result of those crimes, both they and we often lose sight of our call to be a light to the nation, a light, indeed, to the whole world. The stranger — the Magi sees the light, and is attracted, just as the God fearers who worshipped in the synagogues of the Roman Empire saw the light of God in synagogue worship and were attracted to God, but were unwilling to join the community of faith.
One of the quotes that sort of hits me between the eyes is one made by Mahatma Ghandi after having read the Christian scriptures. He said he would have become a Christian had he not known so many of us. We have abused our privilege to put down people of other faiths in other parts of the world, and in other times. Sometimes, people are unwilling to accept Christ because they know us — a heavy indictment is laid upon us as we read this story of Herod's intent.
However, there is good news. The passing good news is that we cannot snuff out the light even in ourselves. Christ will make his light shine in the darkness and the darkness will not overcome it — even if the darkness is our own selves. We can lead lives that make people reluctant to join with us in the Christian faith and life, but God willing, we will choose not to. Instead, we will discover that in blessing others, we ourselves are blessed.
It is our joy and our privilege, our calling and our duty as Christian people to kindle the light of Christ in others. As we do so, then we can see the light kindled therein, and they can see the light of Christ rekindled in us.
As Jesus would say to us, "Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in Heaven." Let us resolve to make 2000 a year in which we strive to share Christ with others. Let us resolve to make this year one in which we work hard to grow in the Lord, to let our light shine and to kindle the light of Christ in those around us, to put aside immorality and envy and hatred, fear and destruction, that we may know him and make him known — he who has come to save the world.
AMEN
The Rev. Dr. Robert Certain
rgcertain@stmargarets.org
02 January 2000