January 2, 2005:

Living Between Times:
Strangers Bearing Gifts

Eileen Parfrey, Springwater Pres.
Matthew 2:1-12, Ephesians 1:3 -14

Some books impact us in the "not" sense-as in, "things should not be like this." I've been listening to just such a book on tape by PD James. I enjoy James' mysteries, but I found this book in the science fiction section at the library, which intrigued me enough to check it out. The story takes place 20 years in the future, and the fiction is that absolute sterility has affected every male human on earth, so that no children have been born since 1995. The effect of no more babies is to deprive people of hope. Twenty-five years with not a single new human born-and no prospect for any ever again-has robbed humans of a sense of potential in any future. Why bother with anything, when in another sixty years there will be no humans left on earth? The very last babies born, the ones born in 1995, have grown up so self-centered that they are either violent or vacuous. Humanity has given up a belief in God and each person looks out only for themselves, enslaving others to serve them. Mass suicides are imposed on those whose health fails.

That was the context in which I came to today's reading about a new baby king, a baby whose birth threatens the political future of the duly-appointed representative of the most powerful king on earth. Ephesians is written to people who believe the baby grew up, was killed and resurrected, which means (to them) everyone in the world finds out who they are and what they are living for in this baby. It's a radical claim, especially when one hears that this source of freedom and identity chose us before the beginning of the world.

This must be where Presbyterians get their "preordained before the beginning of time" thing-that God chose us before time began. We may have jokes about "preordained before the beginning of time," but God's "choosing" is about abundance-of freedom, identity, wholeness, forgiveness, security, love-abundance for us. All because there really is hope in the birth of a baby, and in this baby in particular. This week's science fiction helped me imagine what it means to live without hope. I decided those wise men from the east incarnated (put in the flesh) the exact opposite of no-hope living. By their very lives, they were living-in-the-flesh hope.

Even before they set off on their travels, the wise men were living in expectation. Both their education and life-orientation was based on the premise that things happen for a reason. They watched for signs, trying to figure out what they meant, and then they followed up once they saw the implication of the meaning. No aimless wanderers, these wise men, not nomads. Their trip had a purpose. To "believe" for them had its original meaning. Believe is a contraction of the phrase "by life." So believing, by living, the wise men set out in faith and continued on in faith that God had a message for them.

In the PD James sci fi novel, a race without hope is governed by promises of protection, comfort, and pleasure. People base their lives on only three freedoms-freedom from want, from fear, and from boredom. These freedoms are very different from the freedoms promised by the writer of Ephesians. Here, we are told that we're the focus of God's love, and that in Christ freedom is about abundance, life, and lavish gifts of identity and purpose. We have a future to look forward to. Like the wise men, we're on a journey. Like them, our journey has purpose, is not aimless wandering. Like them, we bear gifts. Like them, in giving away our gifts we live out the purpose of our lives.

Say, for instance, you have taken music lessons all through childhood, you love playing, people love hearing you, and you think God gave you the gift for a reason. The implication of the conjunction of these particular planets for your life could be a career in performance or as a church musician or teacher or music therapist. Perhaps the implication is volunteering to play for people as they pray or think or die. To believe there are no implications to that gift of music is to live without hope.

Or say you never have no trouble putting down on paper (or into the computer) what you want to say. There are implications for that gift. Perhaps the implication is a career in journalism or technical writing or maybe it's a tool in service of your other gifts. Perhaps you are called to letter-writing or editing the church newsletter or recording every-day events to preserve the past for those who come after. To believe there are no implications to that gift of writing is to live without hope.

Or say you are a fabulous barbeque-r, you actually enjoy shopping for groceries and making sure others have a square meal-you know where that one is headed. But what if the only thing you think you are good at is scrubbing? A clean house (or church) expresses hospitality, which is itself a form of evangelism. Or what if the only thing that gets you excited is getting the other kids wound up? There is plenty of room for joy and laughter in God's kingdom! Or what if you love a good cup of coffee and maybe a bite of something? Sharing a cuppa with someone else (because you love Jesus) is building community for the kingdom of God. Or what if you are the best tinker-er and putter-er this side of the Rockies? One church I know calls that particular gift of service to others, "hammers with halos." What if your kids are little and you don't have time for anything but work and kids? That, too, is gift. To believe there are no implications to your gifts is to live without hope. To live as if God had no purpose in creating you, as if you were not forgiven and were given no freedom in Christ, that your identity is pointless and there is no security in God's choosing you before the beginning of time-that is to live without hope.

We are different because we call ourselves Christians. We know this trip we're on-this life of journey-we know it's not about us. We know we're not in charge, and that is probably the best freedom of all. We don't have to come up with our own life purpose. We believe God still breaks in to the world, and that one of those ways is through us. "Believe," as in "by life." Act as if we think that's true. As if we are the strangers bearing gifts even now. As if we are the wise people reading the signs, living by the implications of those signs, journeying purposefully toward that new baby king.

The signs have implications and those implications are gift. When we "believe" in Jesus, we show by our life that God's loving purpose is abundant freedom. Even if the other kids make fun of you, believe you have always been chosen by God. Even if your children disappoint you, believe you are precious to God. Even if your boss treats you like dirt, believe your gifts are God-given and continue to be used for God's purpose. Even if you feel old and worn out, believe that God still has a purpose for you. Believe, by life. Our lives incarnate-put flesh on-God's love in the world, and that is our gift. It makes all the difference in the world that we believe. By life. Like the wise men, our journey has purpose, and we come with gifts. We come having already been gifted. Thanks be to God.