We expect our Christmas stories to be full of joy. But they often only end that way. How we get there is how we find grace.
Grace, change, and the escape to Egypt
Christmas 2B | Matthew 2:13-15,19-23
Every Friday night my family gets pizza, some treats, and we do Movie Night. And this time of year, Movie Night is for Christmas movies. New ones and old ones. We like Noelle and the new Grinch alongside Charlie Brown, Elf, and of course, A Christmas Story.
And like many others, we debate about what counts as a Christmas movie. Our kids aren’t old enough to see let alone judge whether or not Die Hard counts as a Christmas movie, but they’ve decided Shazam and Rise of the Guardians both count.
And when we watch these Christmas movies, both the true ones and the borderline ones, we can see how much the Christmas story that we tell each other every year really is about a light shining in the darkness; about the need to change and be good to one another, and how the spirit of generosity is central to making this a season of magic and grace.
So much of what we know about Christmas comes from these movies.
But the thing about all these stories is that they all turn out all right in the end. That’s the payoff. But before that ending, when everything is up in the air, what do we have?
Stories of suffering and despair.
As much as Charlie Brown warms our hearts, we’re watching a short film about a boy looking for the meaning of Christmas. And everywhere he looks, he sees people utterly dissatisfied.
The main story involves a Christmas pageant that nobody wants to direct. But all of them want to be in it as actors. When Charlie Brown steps forward to direct (with knowledge and skill, by the way), what do the other kids do? None of them want to be directed! They want a director but no direction!
Then when the whole thing falls apart, they blame him.
We have to get to the end to see the spirit of Christmas come alive in the people around Charlie Brown.
In watching these Christmas stories, we have to get through a lot to find the grace.
The point of the Christmas story isn’t just what we learn in the end. We have to journey through why that grace is necessary. And those journeys can be difficult, troubling, and discouraging.
Kind of like life sometimes.
The first Christmas story is no different.
The holy couple have some interesting baggage to deal with before they get married, don’t they?
And as we heard it told in Luke on Christmas Eve, they had to pick up and go home. I know a few of us kind of wish we could.
What fascinates me about the first Christmas stories (there are two after all) is not just what they say, but what they leave out.
They tell of some struggle, but it is only particular parts of it.
In Luke’s version, which we tell on Christmas Eve and is told by Linus at the climax of the Charlie Brown classic, the struggle is not found in the journey, but in the finding that they aren’t able to stay at an inn.
We fill in the gaps with our expectations for the story. The things we would think are difficult.
Matthew gives us even less to go on, saying that they got married and she had a son and named him Jesus. That’s it.
Why would the writer say so little if this were the most important part? Because it isn’t. The story is bigger. Bigger than the birth moment.
Matthew’s story is full of struggle.
The angel appears to Joseph to convince him to go against tradition and protect Mary. And after Jesus is born, they are visited by three foreign travelers bearing gifts, which sparks a story of great tragedy.
King Herod, enraged by jealousy orders a total genocide of children in the region in which Jesus is born.
Again, the angel visits, warning Joseph, telling him to flee with his family. To Egypt. Where they stay until Herod’s death. And even then, they can’t go home, but head north, going into hiding to protect their son.
For Matthew’s gospel, this is the Christmas story. Strange grace in the midst of struggle. Which makes it a lot like those other Christmas stories, but also very different.
So much of how we read the Bible is either as a direct parallel to our lives or as something revealing theological doctrines about the nature of God.
But Matthew offers neither so directly. His is a story about trust and listening. Three times the angels come to Joseph. And what they ask him to do is to go against his tradition. What God told the people to do before.
1. Don’t condemn Mary.
We know that Joseph’s protecting Mary has a high social cost. But it also meant breaking the law God had given them. For Joseph to hear this messenger of God and trust in it, meant believing God would do something new. That God would make exceptions to the rules. That God’s will can change.
2. Go where I told you never to go.
There are just a few messages in the Older Testament that are clear and repeated throughout. Outside of the Ten Commandments, that number is small. Always show hospitality to strangers. Don’t marry Canaanites. Never go back to Egypt.
I think we’ve forgotten that this was a command. With deep resonance.
Egypt represents their slavery. The region represents their oppressors. And after God frees them and leads them to a land of their own, Egypt represents distrust in God. Safety in worldly things, in power, even in the safety of being enslaved.
Egypt represents temptation toward violence, power, supremacy; the utter rejection of trust in God.
So for God to tell a devout Hebrew of David’s line to flee to Egypt we can safely make two assumptions.
1) King Herod is worse than Pharaoh.
2) The whole script is now flipped.
Joseph’s homeland now represents the oppressors. His leader, the new Pharaoh. And Joseph can now expect to receive hospitality and grace from the last place he should expect it: Egypt.
3. You can’t go home to your family.
When the evil Herod dies, the holy family are encouraged to return to their homeland, but not their home. Not to the seat of David. But the hill country to the north. Where God’s grace is never shown.
This is such a down story. We have to remind ourselves how it ends.
But Matthew gives us the stakes for what the Christ Event is about.
Much like having to wrestle with the fact that we need to change before we can appreciate the invitation to change. We learn what trust looks like when we can’t assume it means doing what we always do.
This is what the best stories do for us. They provoke us to see our world differently. To see what change can bring. What grace is for. Relief! Release! A second chance!
But it also helps us get a bit of perspective on our theological convictions. That the good guys can become the monsters. That evil can come from protecting your people. That the desire for safety and happiness at all costs is a bargain we aren’t supposed to make.
I like that our Christmas stories give us the shortcuts so we can know what grace looks like.
I like that Matthew’s Christmas story reminds us why we need that grace.
And I love that we are invited to receive that grace in new ways. For the sake of God’s beloved community.