ALTERNATE ROUTES
A sermon preached by
Rev. Dr. Randle R. (Rick) Mixon
First Baptist Church, Palo Alto, CA
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Texts: Matthew 2:1-12
The same morning that I got up early to fly back to the Bay Area from Boise, my nephew left in his car, driving from Boise to Hollywood, where he lives as an aspiring actor. Since I have driven from Boise to the Bay Area more than once, I was curious as to what route he would take. Conventional wisdom and Mapquest say the way to go is to head west from Boise to Jordan Valley, Oregon; there you make a left turn and drive some 200 desolate miles due south on US 95 until you join Interstate 80 at Winnemucca, Nevada. From there you head southwest to Reno, over Donner Pass and down into Sacramento where you take Interstate 5 south into the Los Angeles Basin. But knowing how deserted the first part of this route is, how treacherous Donner Pass can be in the dead of winter and how frustrating I-5 can be in traffic, Max takes an alternate route.
I was amused to hear him describe his route because he has picked up that Southern California-speak way of preceding the name of every highway with “the.” I think Mike and some others who have lived in the “other California” recognize this and even fall into it on occasion. Max takes “the” 84 southeast to Twin Falls, Idaho, where he hits “the” 93 which winds its way to Las Vegas through Jackpot, Wells, and Ely, Nevada. Now none of those places are bustling metropolises but there is more life here than you’d find on the other route. The alternate route also promises better weather and the prospect of crossing the Sierras at a point less threatening than Donner Pass. From Las Vegas, you take “the” 15 to “the” 210 to “the” 605 to “the” 10 to “the” 101 – much more interesting and quicker than “the” 5 at its worst, he says, though the thought of negotiating all those LA freeways gives me a headache. Though the alternate route is a little longer, he finds it much preferable to the one that is conventionally considered the way to go.
It seems to me that the Magi have a similar experience. They are excitedly following their star, which portends the birth of a royal figure somewhere in Judea. These students of the stars, sages and priests, had heard all the talk about the one who would come from Judea to rule the world. It hadn’t just been reported in the tabloids, it was in the Babylonian Post, and even the Chaldean Times had carried the story. Now there was this heavenly disturbance - a comet? a conjunction of planets? a super nova? - that confirmed the prediction, and they were off to pay homage to the one born “King of the Jews.”
Being Wise Men, they headed for Judea’s primary city, Jerusalem, where they sought out the current king to inquire about this new born king who would replace him. Unfortunately, the old king did not seem to know anything about the new one, though he was very curious, one might even say concerned about the news. The Wise Men must have thought this curious as well, that the current king would not know anything about his successor, including his whereabouts. Unlike most modern men, they did the logical thing, they asked for directions. So crafty old Herod, called in his own advisors to see if they knew the way to go. “Well,” they reported, “tradition does say that a baby would be born in Bethlehem who would become ruler of Israel.” Now even Herod, with his limited knowledge of Judaism, recognized that Bethlehem was the birthplace of the great King David, so he took the prophecy quite seriously. He told the Wise Men to get to Bethlehem, find the kid and report back to him right away so he could pay his own “special homage.” It sounds a little like a scene right out of The Godfather or Sopranos.
At this point the text doesn’t tell us how the Wise Men felt about Herod personally, but it does tell us that they were exceedingly joyful when they found the baby and his mother at home in Bethlehem. And even if they were wise and wealthy, powerful and of a priestly caste, they did not hesitate to fall on their knees, right there in the peasant hut, paying homage with gifts rare and rich for the baby, squirming in his mother’s arms. Already we can see that they recognize a different reality, a dimension to life that goes beyond the ordinary expectations of royalty, the conventional ways of wearing a crown. There was something in this bare room, in the eyes of this girl, in the smile of the baby himself that captured their attention and said, “Take off your shoes, this is holy ground; bow down, you are in holy presence.” So, you can imagine the angel didn’t have to talk long to convince them to take an alternate route home. It wasn’t entirely clear how this baby could be a threat to Herod – but, even in infancy, there was something powerful that convinced them that Herod would not be kind to the child, if he found him.
Since the Israelis started their military offensive against Hamas in the Gaza Strip last week, I have been caught up in trying to puzzle through some of the more of the mysteries of the Middle East. How can there be such lack of peace in the very region where the Prince of Peace was born? Once again, “Rachel is weeping for her children, refusing to be consoled…,” only this time the wailing in Ramah is for Palestinian children as well as Israeli. I know that I can never grasp fully what it’s like to belong to a people who have been ridiculed, despised, beaten and murdered for millennia, a people who have know the horrors of the Holocaust. Conventional wisdom has taken Israel down the way of building – with full US support – a mighty military and of constructing walls between themselves and their neighbors, all to secure their state interests and protect their claims on the land.
I understand that Hamas rockets and suicide bombs indiscriminately target civilian and military targets, but I know little of what it’s actually like to live in constant fear of attack. Still, the imbalance of power in the region makes it appear that Israel is trying to handle a mosquito with a cannon. Even with the limited natural resources of the region, there must be some way to create Palestinian and Israeli states that co-exist in peace and even harmony. I know that many will say to me, “Get real; don’t you understand human nature. In order for this to happen, somebody’s going to have to give up something – land, resources, territorial claims, self righteousness, hatred, enmity. No one is going to take the risk of believing that we are all God’s children or of trusting in alternate routes.” Still, as a follower of that baby from Bethlehem, I sense that there is power in the holy presence that might help to turn the situation around, if put to proper use.
The last two issues of Christian Century have had articles that have helped me gain some perspective on the situation. One of them challenges those who have the most power and resources to understand how the other side sees things; the other is an article, with several responses, on the meaning of “Holy Land” for Jews and others. In the December 30th issue, the editors write that early in December pressures had eased enough to allow busloads of tourists to visit Bethlehem, in spite of the wall. But in Gaza, Israel had built a blockade of the region – borders, airspace and coastline - after Hamas came to power. 1.5 million people living there, half of whom are children, are closed in. They report that there is 45% unemployment, “supplies of food, medicine and fuel are running low. Electricity in most parts was off 16 hours a day. Sewage can’t be processed, and so is dumped into the sea…It was feared that once fuel ran out, hospital generators…would go silent, cutting off life support machines” (“Blockade” in The Christian Century, December 30, 2008, p. 7.)
Though it’s true to that Hamas rockets contribute to the cycle of violence, the net effect of Israel’s blockade and subsequent military action is to strengthen support for Hamas and exacerbate hatred for Israel. It seems to me that this is akin to the failure in this country to recognize the anger and frustration with the workings of the American empire that were represented in the attack on the World Trade Center. Instead of understanding how the actions of the rich and powerful too often oppress the poor and desperate, to the point that they lash out in rage, Israel and the United States have taken steps to strengthen security, protect too-often selfish and greedy interests and have escalated enmity among people who must become our friends, if we are ever live in peace on earth.
When will we ever learn that there are alternate routes, ways to deal with even the exigencies of realpolitik that will get us where we want to go without the threats of destruction and the isolation of going it alone? Though, as people of the Judaeo Christian tradition, we may recognize and affirm that land is part of what God has promised to God’s chosen people, some will argue that possession of the land comes with responsibilities, including responsibilities towards one’s neighbors. The notion that “to whom much is given, of them will much be expected” comes to mind. Marlin Jeschke says that “In the promise to Abraham God intended to guide the human race into a new way to possess land, and not just in one small corner of the world called Holy Land as over against the unholy land of the rest of the world. The promise to Abraham was to be the beginning of a process leading to the sanctification of the whole earth, with all people coming to that new way to possess and steward land” (“Israel and the Land: Does the Promise Still Hold: 3 Responses” in The Christian Century, January 13, 2009, p. 27.)
In its own prophetic writings, Judaism moved from a narrowly parochial view of being God’s chosen people, living in holy isolation in the Promised Land. Prophet after prophet encourages Israel to be a “light to the nations.” I think this is the argument Jeschke is trying to make about the universal quality of the Abrahamic promise. As we celebrate Epiphany, we see that very light shining over a house in Bethlehem where a baby has been born to poor peasant folk. It is ironic that it is foreigners who recognize the light and fall on their knees before God incarnate, who see the possibilities of peace on earth and refuse to support Herod’s mad attempts to secure his power against his inevitable demise.
The light of God in Jewish prophecy and Hebrew scripture that gives us hope for a better future; the light of the star that gets us to a place where we might be surprised by joy; the light of Jesus that illuminates the shadowy corners of our lives and promises both peace and justice; the light of God that fills the whole creation with love and calls us to be risky lovers rather than security-seeking fighters – all these are alternate routes that may not be the conventional way to go, but, in the end may take us where we need to be. Amen.