Light From And For The East
Sermon
God in Flesh Made Manifest
Cycle A Gospel Lesson Sermons For Advent, Christmas, And Epiphany
Object:
It was good to spend some time with you over Christmas break. I really enjoyed hearing about your semester in India, and am so glad you had that opportunity. We sometimes tend to pull our worlds in around us like a down comforter on a cold night. There is nothing like living in another country, immersing yourself in another culture, to expand your horizons.
I have begun to work on a sermon for Epiphany. As I do, my mind keeps returning to your observations and questions about other world religions and the bold, universal claims of the Christian faith. I want to think "out loud" (or should we say on paper?) about some of those issues, thus feeding two birds with one crumb: continuing our delightful conversation, and clarifying my own thinking on the matter, in light -- especially -- of the Epiphany story.
You said that Paul's description of the people of ancient Athens, "I see how extremely religious you are in every way," might well be said of the people of modern India, too. You saw that virtually nothing in their entire culture or way of life is without reference to or roots in their religious beliefs and practices. Hinduism, Buddhism, Islam, Sikhism and other major world religions have profoundly formed the heart and soul of the Indian people. As with Christianity, however, not all the consequences are positive. The movie Ghandi vividly portrayed the historical tensions and even bloodshed between competing religions and sects, especially Hindus and Muslims.
I was particularly fascinated by your encounter with the street vendor. You were puzzled by the inclusion of the likeness of Jesus on an obviously Hindu painting, and by the merchant's easy incorporation of Jesus into the pantheon of gods. You said he seemed genuinely pleased to acknowledge and acclaim Jesus as yet one more deity. We who are familiar only with the monotheistic religions of Judaism, Christianity and Islam find such polytheism shocking and confusing, almost like a kind of spiritual promiscuity. Meanwhile, they sometimes see our insistence on one God as spiritually impoverished and remarkably lacking in religious imagination. That's just one indicator of the religious and theological gulf that divides us.
You are quite right when you say that we have much to learn from these neighbors. We may not appreciate their reverence for literal "sacred cows"; our sensitivities concerning race and class may be offended by the lingering remnants of the caste system; but you and others have detected among them a sense of the mystery and sacredness of life that is for the most part unavailable to modern Westerners. And how many among us can lay claim to as disciplined and intentional a spiritual life as typifies the life of many you met during your semester there?
Time was when we dismissed these people as benighted heathens, "lesser breeds without the law (or gospel!)," and adopted a haughty, patronizing attitude toward them. But as I read Matthew's story of the Epiphany -- indeed, all the lessons appointed for Epiphany Day -- I wonder: How is it that we ever came to adopt such a sad and arrogant posture?
Please do not misunderstand. I am not saying that one religion is as good as another. I am not endorsing the sappy sentiment that "it doesn't matter what you believe, so long as you are sincere." And I am certainly not commending that gauzy, vapid and condescending attitude we Americans are so fond of: tolerance. What I am suggesting is that God did not despise the religion of the Magi, eastern astrologers not numbered among the covenant people of God, and neither may we.
Indeed, it was precisely the devotion and discipline of the Magi that led them ultimately to the Christ child!
Matthew's way of telling the story suggests a complementarity between Christianity and the world religions. The Magi, without any apparent recourse to the Hebrew scriptures but relying only on the traditions of antiquity and the tenets of their own religion, follow a star in the belief that it will lead them to the birthplace of an important ruler. They follow that star all the way from their homeland -- possibly Persia, modern-day Iran -- to Jerusalem. That is, their native faith and instinct bring them a long way in the right direction. But then they must do that thing that males -- ancient as well as modern, I think -- hate the most: They must stop to ask directions! "Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews?" Herod summons the chief priests and scribes and they provide the answer: Bethlehem.
"Hunger for God is a common human trait and deserves respect wherever it is found,"1 someone has written. The Magi exemplify such hunger. That hunger impels them to travel a long way. Their religion points them in the right direction. But neither their hunger nor their religion is capable of bringing them all the way to God incarnate in the Babe of Bethlehem. Short of the goal, they need detailed information; something more specific than the meandering of a star in the sky. Those who are knowledgeable about the Bible are consulted, and are able to provide the needed directions. And the Magi, thus informed, are able to complete their journey, worship the Christ child and offer to him their gifts.
Is any of this making sense? What I am suggesting is that other religions not only prepare people, they actually lead people God-ward. But people need something more if their wanderings are to culminate as did the journey of the Magi. They need specific direction. The scriptures and those knowledgeable about them are best positioned to provide that direction.
It is crucially important to note that such direction is not toward a principle, a precept or a proposition. As with the Magi, it is direction toward a particular person: Jesus.
I recall a conversation with an elder statesman of the church a few years back. He had been part of a group that had engaged in high level theological discussions with Buddhist scholars. After two full days of conversation, the Buddhists said to their Christian counterparts, "We appreciate all that you have shared with us about your faith. But you have not said very much about the one thing that fascinates us most, and that is Jesus. Please, in the time that remains, tell us more about Jesus." This churchman was as dumbfounded as he was embarrassed! His group had intentionally focused on those things they thought Christians held in common with Buddhists, thinking to concentrate on Jesus in a subsequent meeting. Those of another faith reminded them that the single most riveting feature of Christianity is Christ!
We who have been reared in the faith -- and in a culture that thinks it is familiar with Jesus -- sometimes lose sight of the fact that Jesus truly is an intriguing, captivating and fascinating character. That should be no surprise, for he is God's unique bringer of salvation for all humankind. Though such Christian claims may be offensive to some, it is the offense of particularity, the gospel's scandalous message that God wills the salvation of all people through the crucifixion and resurrection of this one man, the One the Magi journeyed to adore.
We serve no one well when we say that each religion generates its own valid way of salvation. Nor do we serve the truth when we teach that our particular brand of Christianity is the final and decisive form of faith in Jesus. It is Jesus Christ who is the unique incarnation of God's Truth. Our task is to bear witness to that Truth. By becoming ever more knowledgeable about the Bible, we become better equipped to direct people toward that Truth. But knowledge alone is never enough. We need to go a step farther than did the highly knowledgeable scribes and chief priests in the Epiphany story. They gave accurate directions, but did not themselves accompany the Magi to their destination.
What a different story this would be if they had! Picture it: Jews and Zoroastrians kneeling beside each other, worshipping together and offering their considerable gifts to the newborn king. It was not so then and -- sadly -- it is not so now. Ironically, that is one of the very reasons the Child was born and will die and rise again -- to reconcile the considerable differences between people: racial, ethnic, social, economic, political and religious. The Magi came to worship the King; Herod hatched a plan to assassinate him. That set of facts alone cautions us against absolutist claims about our religion versus their religion. For it is not finally our or any religion that saves us. It is precisely and irreplaceably the one who is Lord of all: Jesus!
All for now. Blessed Epiphany to you and yours.
In his love,
Mark
_____________
1. Winn, Albert C. and Joseph A. Burgess, Proclamation 2 Commentary -- Epiphany (Fortress Press, Philadelphia, 1980), p. 12.
I have begun to work on a sermon for Epiphany. As I do, my mind keeps returning to your observations and questions about other world religions and the bold, universal claims of the Christian faith. I want to think "out loud" (or should we say on paper?) about some of those issues, thus feeding two birds with one crumb: continuing our delightful conversation, and clarifying my own thinking on the matter, in light -- especially -- of the Epiphany story.
You said that Paul's description of the people of ancient Athens, "I see how extremely religious you are in every way," might well be said of the people of modern India, too. You saw that virtually nothing in their entire culture or way of life is without reference to or roots in their religious beliefs and practices. Hinduism, Buddhism, Islam, Sikhism and other major world religions have profoundly formed the heart and soul of the Indian people. As with Christianity, however, not all the consequences are positive. The movie Ghandi vividly portrayed the historical tensions and even bloodshed between competing religions and sects, especially Hindus and Muslims.
I was particularly fascinated by your encounter with the street vendor. You were puzzled by the inclusion of the likeness of Jesus on an obviously Hindu painting, and by the merchant's easy incorporation of Jesus into the pantheon of gods. You said he seemed genuinely pleased to acknowledge and acclaim Jesus as yet one more deity. We who are familiar only with the monotheistic religions of Judaism, Christianity and Islam find such polytheism shocking and confusing, almost like a kind of spiritual promiscuity. Meanwhile, they sometimes see our insistence on one God as spiritually impoverished and remarkably lacking in religious imagination. That's just one indicator of the religious and theological gulf that divides us.
You are quite right when you say that we have much to learn from these neighbors. We may not appreciate their reverence for literal "sacred cows"; our sensitivities concerning race and class may be offended by the lingering remnants of the caste system; but you and others have detected among them a sense of the mystery and sacredness of life that is for the most part unavailable to modern Westerners. And how many among us can lay claim to as disciplined and intentional a spiritual life as typifies the life of many you met during your semester there?
Time was when we dismissed these people as benighted heathens, "lesser breeds without the law (or gospel!)," and adopted a haughty, patronizing attitude toward them. But as I read Matthew's story of the Epiphany -- indeed, all the lessons appointed for Epiphany Day -- I wonder: How is it that we ever came to adopt such a sad and arrogant posture?
Please do not misunderstand. I am not saying that one religion is as good as another. I am not endorsing the sappy sentiment that "it doesn't matter what you believe, so long as you are sincere." And I am certainly not commending that gauzy, vapid and condescending attitude we Americans are so fond of: tolerance. What I am suggesting is that God did not despise the religion of the Magi, eastern astrologers not numbered among the covenant people of God, and neither may we.
Indeed, it was precisely the devotion and discipline of the Magi that led them ultimately to the Christ child!
Matthew's way of telling the story suggests a complementarity between Christianity and the world religions. The Magi, without any apparent recourse to the Hebrew scriptures but relying only on the traditions of antiquity and the tenets of their own religion, follow a star in the belief that it will lead them to the birthplace of an important ruler. They follow that star all the way from their homeland -- possibly Persia, modern-day Iran -- to Jerusalem. That is, their native faith and instinct bring them a long way in the right direction. But then they must do that thing that males -- ancient as well as modern, I think -- hate the most: They must stop to ask directions! "Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews?" Herod summons the chief priests and scribes and they provide the answer: Bethlehem.
"Hunger for God is a common human trait and deserves respect wherever it is found,"1 someone has written. The Magi exemplify such hunger. That hunger impels them to travel a long way. Their religion points them in the right direction. But neither their hunger nor their religion is capable of bringing them all the way to God incarnate in the Babe of Bethlehem. Short of the goal, they need detailed information; something more specific than the meandering of a star in the sky. Those who are knowledgeable about the Bible are consulted, and are able to provide the needed directions. And the Magi, thus informed, are able to complete their journey, worship the Christ child and offer to him their gifts.
Is any of this making sense? What I am suggesting is that other religions not only prepare people, they actually lead people God-ward. But people need something more if their wanderings are to culminate as did the journey of the Magi. They need specific direction. The scriptures and those knowledgeable about them are best positioned to provide that direction.
It is crucially important to note that such direction is not toward a principle, a precept or a proposition. As with the Magi, it is direction toward a particular person: Jesus.
I recall a conversation with an elder statesman of the church a few years back. He had been part of a group that had engaged in high level theological discussions with Buddhist scholars. After two full days of conversation, the Buddhists said to their Christian counterparts, "We appreciate all that you have shared with us about your faith. But you have not said very much about the one thing that fascinates us most, and that is Jesus. Please, in the time that remains, tell us more about Jesus." This churchman was as dumbfounded as he was embarrassed! His group had intentionally focused on those things they thought Christians held in common with Buddhists, thinking to concentrate on Jesus in a subsequent meeting. Those of another faith reminded them that the single most riveting feature of Christianity is Christ!
We who have been reared in the faith -- and in a culture that thinks it is familiar with Jesus -- sometimes lose sight of the fact that Jesus truly is an intriguing, captivating and fascinating character. That should be no surprise, for he is God's unique bringer of salvation for all humankind. Though such Christian claims may be offensive to some, it is the offense of particularity, the gospel's scandalous message that God wills the salvation of all people through the crucifixion and resurrection of this one man, the One the Magi journeyed to adore.
We serve no one well when we say that each religion generates its own valid way of salvation. Nor do we serve the truth when we teach that our particular brand of Christianity is the final and decisive form of faith in Jesus. It is Jesus Christ who is the unique incarnation of God's Truth. Our task is to bear witness to that Truth. By becoming ever more knowledgeable about the Bible, we become better equipped to direct people toward that Truth. But knowledge alone is never enough. We need to go a step farther than did the highly knowledgeable scribes and chief priests in the Epiphany story. They gave accurate directions, but did not themselves accompany the Magi to their destination.
What a different story this would be if they had! Picture it: Jews and Zoroastrians kneeling beside each other, worshipping together and offering their considerable gifts to the newborn king. It was not so then and -- sadly -- it is not so now. Ironically, that is one of the very reasons the Child was born and will die and rise again -- to reconcile the considerable differences between people: racial, ethnic, social, economic, political and religious. The Magi came to worship the King; Herod hatched a plan to assassinate him. That set of facts alone cautions us against absolutist claims about our religion versus their religion. For it is not finally our or any religion that saves us. It is precisely and irreplaceably the one who is Lord of all: Jesus!
All for now. Blessed Epiphany to you and yours.
In his love,
Mark
_____________
1. Winn, Albert C. and Joseph A. Burgess, Proclamation 2 Commentary -- Epiphany (Fortress Press, Philadelphia, 1980), p. 12.
