January
8,
2006:
TREASURE:
GIFTS
Matthew
2:1-12;
Isaiah
60:1-6;
Psalm
72:1-7,
10-14
Eileen
Parfrey
-
Springwater
Presbyterian
Church
For
those
of
you
who
pay
attention
to
this
kind
of
thing,
I
am
playing
fast
and
loose
with
the
church
calendar.
We
are
celebrating
today
as
if
it
were
Epiphany,
when
it
was
"really"
Friday,
so
that
today
would
be
the
Baptism
of
the
Lord.
What
gives?
Who
said
she
could
do
this?
Well,
the
purpose
of
the
church
calendar
is
to
provide
a
structure
in
which
to
rehearse
salvation
history
in
as
comprehensive
a
way
as
possible.
So
I
get
to.
This
year,
Epiphany
seems
so
important
that
we're
taking
two
Sundays
to
unpack
it.
"Epiphany,"
as
you
may
know,
is
Biblish
for
"revealing
God."
An
Epiphany
is
an
event
that
gives
us
a
glimpse
of
what
sort
of
God
we
worship.
Last
Sunday's
Service
of
Light
celebrated
the
revelation
of
God
in
the
birth
of
Jesus
as
Light
of
the
World,
through
the
eyes
of
two
ancient
Temple
prophets.
Today's
celebration
uses
the
visit
of
three
out-of-towners
to
look
at
God's
decision
to
be
God-with-us
in
the
form
of
a
vulnerable
child.
Today's
text
shows
what
an
incredibly
risky
decision
that
was.
Here
is
the
child,
a
special
child
but
definitely
a
human
child,
at
the
mercy
of
murderous
human
plots.
Without
faithful
humans,
no
amount
of
divine
interventions
would
have
helped.
Herod
came
to
life
for
me
one
year
as
the
kids
and
I
were
acting
out
the
Christmas
story.
It
was
the
first
year
we
added
Herod
to
the
cast,
and
we
added
him
because
the
kids
wanted
Erin
to
have
a
part,
so
she
volunteered
to
be
Herod.
I've
always
read
the
conversation
between
the
wise
men
and
Herod
as
"how
dumb
did
he
think
they
were?"
Erin,
as
King
Herod
told
the
wise
men
where
the
baby
was
supposed
to
be,
and
the
way
she
sent
them
on,
inviting
them
to
come
back
with
news
of
his
birth-I've
never
seen
such
oily,
slimy
and
complex
motivations
in
a
few
sentences.
Perhaps
it
was
all
her
years
of
drama
training,
but
in
Erin's
portrayal,
Herod's
evil
took
on
human
dimension.
At
that
moment,
Herod
stood
for
all
of
humanity's
need
for
this
Infant,
this
Child
who
most
clearly
reveals
God's
love.
While
it
is
outside
our
text
for
today,
we
all
know
what
happens
when
Herod
finds
out
he'd
been
tricked.
We
call
it
"the
slaughter
of
the
innocents."
Medieval
paintings
show
it
as
a
grisly
event
with
rivers
of
blood.
But
lately,
scholars
have
turned
the
light
of
modern
scholarship
on
this
story.
Which
can
be
a
disadvantage.
When
really
smart
people
get
caught
up
in
"what
it
really
means,"
they
can
sometimes
forget
to
look
for
the
Truth.
One
scholar
used
birthrates
and
population
estimates
to
arrive
at
the
number
of
children
actually
killed
in
Herod's
effort
to
kill
the
New
Baby
King.
His
conclusion
was
that
it
was
less
than
ten,
perhaps
as
little
as
four.
As
if
such
a
small
number
made
it
no
big
deal.
The
number
isn't
the
point.
God
vulnerable,
human
power
threatened
by
that
vulnerability,
God
at
the
mercy
of
that
power-that's
the
point.
Divine
intervention
requiring
faithful
human
response-that's
the
point.
It's
not
just
something
that
happens
in
the
Bible.
My
uncle
went
to
visit
Rwanda
where
World
Vision
has
an
orphanage.
He
and
my
aunt
had
adopted
ten
orphans,
one
of
whom
(Paul)
they
gave
to
me
as
a
birthday
present,
because
his
birthday
is
the
same
as
my
son's
and
the
anniversary
of
my
ordination.
World
Vision's
mission
in
Rwanda
is
to
raise
and
educate
the
children
orphaned
by
AIDS
and
a
brutal
civil
war.
When
my
uncle's
group
arrived
at
the
orphanage,
all
of
the
children
(some
50
or
60)
sang
for
them,
treating
them
as
if
they
were
honored
guests.
One
of
the
girls
was
hanging
back
out
of
shyness
but
when
volunteers
were
asked
to
pray,
she
was
the
one
who
came
forward.
My
uncle
had
been
studying
the
pictures
of
the
kids
that
they'd
been
supporting,
because
he
wanted
to
be
sure
to
greet
them.
The
girl
who
prayed
was
one
of
"his"
children,
and
when
he
revealed
himself
to
her,
this
shy
child
threw
herself
at
him
and
hugged
him
with
tears
running
down
her
face.
It
touched
him
immeasurably.
God
doesn't
want
these
children
to
starve
to
death
or
die
from
neglect
or
abandonment.
God's
will
for
them
is
not
ignorance
and
oppression
by
unscrupulous
people
who
prey
upon
the
vulnerable.
But
without
faithful
human
response,
that
would
be
their
lot.
Childhood
for
these
children
without
intervention
often
means
slavery
or
prostitution,
certainly
not
literacy
or
good
health.
Paul
and
his
classmates
are
given
simple
things.
No
gold,
frankincense,
or
myrrh.
Just
clean
water,
nutritious
food,
health
care,
adults
who
care
for
them,
shelter,
education.
Things
we
take
for
granted,
but
which
are
not
be
available
to
them
without
people
like
World
Vision
and
my
aunt
and
uncle.
World
Vision
and
Heifer
Project
and
Presbyterian
Disaster
Assistance
supported
by
people
like
Springwater.
I'm
not
saying
that
prostitution
or
starvation
is
an
inevitability
for
orphans
in
the
Third
World.
That
would
be
as
callous
as
saying,
"Only
ten
children
s."
To
those
ten,
that
massacre
was
plenty
big!
God
loves
us
enough
to
allow
salvation's
plan
to
be
vulnerable.
God's
intervention
on
our
behalf
depends
on
human
faithfulness.
Barbara
Brown
Taylor,
consistently
voted
one
of
the
ten
best
preachers
of
our
time,
says
this
better
than
I
in
her
sermon,
"Decked
Out
in
the
Flesh,"
published
in
her
book,
Mixed
Blessings.
"The
baby
Jesus
is
a
love
child
in
whom
God
shows
how
far
God
will
go
to
be
held
in
our
arms.
In
doing
so,
God
has
forever
blurred
the
distinction
between
the
holy
and
the
ordinarily
human.
God
could
have
come
among
us
as
a
celestial
being
or
a
mighty
emperor,
in
some
form
clearly
superior
to
ours
and
beyond
our
reach.
Coming
in
such
a
way,
God
would
have
been
easier
to
recognize.
That
would
have
made
it
easier
for
us
to
keep
our
distance
from
God.
But
God
chose
to
come
among
us
as
a
child,
and
a
poor
child
at
that.
Choosing
flesh,
God
chose
the
lowest
human
common
denominator
and
left
us
no
escape
from
God's
presence.
That
is
why
it
is
so
important
.
.
.
to
let
the
star
show
us
a
real
child,
to
remember
that
the
Jesus
born
to
Mary
and
Joseph
was
no
idealized
baby
but
a
belching,
squalling
infant
who
kept
them
up
at
night.
In
choosing
to
enter
the
world
in
such
an
ordinary
way,
God
showed
us
that
flesh
and
blood,
dirt
and
sky,
life
and
death
were
good
enough
for
God.
More
than
that,
God
hallowed
them,
made
them
holy
by
taking
part
in
them,
and
left
us
nothing
on
earth
we
can
dismiss
as
trivial
or
unknown
to
God."
Nothing.
The
God
who
hunts
you
down,
the
God
who
knows
your
every
hiding
place,
the
God
who
is
called
God-with-us,
is
a
love
child.
A
love
child
whose
persistence
on
our
behalf
is
not
for
punishment
or
to
make
us
feel
guilty
or
inadequate.
God's
persistence
is
born
out
of
love,
unlike
Herod's
search-and-destroy
mission.
Herod
had
to
get
in
a
pre-emptive
strike.
The
persistence
of
the
wise
men
is
more
like
God's.
They
were
on
a
search-and-revere
mission,
a
mission
to
give
themselves,
as
God
gave
his
very
Self.
Today's
Epiphany
is
the
revelation
of
God
who
comes
to
us
as
One
who
was
weak,
vulnerable,
a
refugee.
Can
we
see
this
revelation?
Can
we
bear
a
God
who
shares
the
sorrows
and
challenges,
the
heartbreaks
of
this
world,
is
with
us
and
all
of
humanity?
Can
we
stand
it?
May
this
be
so.
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