'Holy Family' by Kelly Latimore
Matthew 2:13-23
13 Now after they had left, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, “Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.” 14 Then Joseph[h] got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt, 15 and remained there until the death of Herod. This was to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet, “Out of Egypt I have called my son.”
16 When Herod saw that he had been tricked by the wise men,[i] he was infuriated, and he sent and killed all the children in and around Bethlehem who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had learned from the wise men.[j] 17 Then was fulfilled what had been spoken through the prophet Jeremiah:
18 “A voice was heard in Ramah,
wailing and loud lamentation,
Rachel weeping for her children;
she refused to be consoled, because they are no more.”
19 When Herod died, an angel of the Lord suddenly appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said, 20 “Get up, take the child and his mother, and go to the land of Israel, for those who were seeking the child’s life are dead.” 21 Then Joseph[k] got up, took the child and his mother, and went to the land of Israel. 22 But when he heard that Archelaus was ruling over Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. And after being warned in a dream, he went away to the district of Galilee. 23 There he made his home in a town called Nazareth, so that what had been spoken through the prophets might be fulfilled, “He will be called a Nazorean.”
* * *
Luke 2:22-40
22 When the time came for their purification according to the law of Moses, they brought him up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord 23 (as it is written in the law of the Lord, “Every firstborn male shall be designated as holy to the Lord”), 24 and they offered a sacrifice according to what is stated in the law of the Lord, “a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons.”
25 Now there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon;[d] this man was righteous and devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit rested on him. 26 It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah.[e] 27 Guided by the Spirit, Simeon[f] came into the temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him what was customary under the law, 28 Simeon[g] took him in his arms and praised God, saying,
29 “Master, now you are dismissing your servant[h] in peace,
according to your word;
30 for my eyes have seen your salvation,
31 which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples,
32 a light for revelation to the Gentiles
and for glory to your people Israel.”
33 And the child’s father and mother were amazed at what was being said about him. 34 Then Simeon[i] blessed them and said to his mother Mary, “This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed 35 so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul too.”
36 There was also a prophet, Anna[j] the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher. She was of a great age, having lived with her husband seven years after her marriage, 37 then as a widow to the age of eighty-four. She never left the temple but worshiped there with fasting and prayer night and day. 38 At that moment she came, and began to praise God and to speak about the child[k] to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem.
39 When they had finished everything required by the law of the Lord, they returned to Galilee, to their own town of Nazareth. 40 The child grew and became strong, filled with wisdom; and the favour of God was upon him.
A ‘cutting’ of tree wisdom (Genny Tunbridge)
Trees don’t travel. So Macbeth reassured himself, faced with the witches’ prophecy that he would never be defeated until Birnam Wood came to Dunsinane.
That will never be.
Who can impress the forest, bid the tree
Unfix his earth-bound root? …
Macbeth’s confidence was misplaced: the wood did move, or at least appeared to, as Malcolm’s advancing army cut and carried boughs to camouflage themselves. Tolkien was dissatisfied with the ‘shabby’ way Shakespeare’s trees only seemed to move, and so created in The Lord of the Rings an army of living trees from Fangorn forest, who marched themselves to war against the environmentally destructive orcs.
Not only in stories and legends do forests travel. Individual trees are indeed rooted to one spot, but whole forests move – very, very slowly. Science writer Zach St George[1] describes the way forests creep inch by inch, migrating just as birds or whales do, shuffling back and forth across continents over millennia. Not marching to war like the Forest of Fangorn, but gradually shifting to a more hospitable environment. A forest sends seeds just beyond its footprint in every direction, but the seeds that go to the north — assuming the north is the more hospitable direction — thrive a little more than the ones that fall to the south. Over time, this forest would march steadily northwards.
‘The migration of a forest is communal, it's constant. It is accomplished over many generations ... ‘, St George explains. Unfortunately, it is too slow to keep up with the rapid pace of climate change today, and forests are increasingly at risk from drought and fire. Humans may need to step in to help tree species move to safer places.
[1] In a new book, The journeys of trees: A story about forests, people and the future by Zach St. George (W W Norton & Co, 2020)
Introduction to the theme (Ruth Harley)
Last week we were thinking about visitors, about those who travelled to see Jesus. This week it is Jesus himself – along with Mary and Joseph – who is on the move. Again, Matthew’s gospel and Luke’s gospel provide us with very different accounts of two very different journeys.
Matthew, as always, is keen to emphasise the resonances with the Hebrew Bible, and particularly the ways in which Jesus can be seen as a fulfilment of the words of the prophets, the promised Messiah. One of Matthew’s most frequent phrases is “this was to fulfil what had been spoken”, and in this passage that is all about place. How can it be that Jesus fulfils prophecies that say “Out of Egypt have I called my son” and also (as we heard last week) “You, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel”? It is only possible because of the journeys he makes. Throughout all of the gospel narratives, Jesus is itinerant – he moves around a lot – and in Matthew’s narrative that movement begins when he is still an infant.
But this is not just any kind of journey. Jesus, Mary and Joseph are fleeing persecution and deadly violence at the hands of Herod. And so they become refugees – leaving everything and everyone they have known and travelling to a strange land. Like the vast majority of the world’s refugees today, they do not go far – just far enough to escape the danger and wait for it to be safe to return home. The gospel writer tells us almost nothing of the Holy Family’s time in Egypt: what welcomes or hostilities they encountered, how they lived, what sort of communities they found to be a part of. But perhaps we can use our imaginations, and our knowledge of the experience of refugees in other times and places, to fill in some of the gaps.
Luke tells of a very different journey: the journey of Mary and Joseph to the Temple to offer a sacrifice of thanksgiving for the safe arrival of their baby Jesus. Far from the fear surrounding the flight into Egypt, this is a journey of joy and celebration. And that joy is compounded when the prophets Simeon and Anna, after all their long years of waiting, recognise Jesus for who he is: the light of the world. But even here, among thanksgiving, blessing, and the fulfilment of promises, that joy is not uncomplicated. “And a sword shall pierce your own soul too,” Simeon tells Mary – words which she must surely have pondered alongside the joyful proclamations of the shepherds which we heard about last week, and which she had heard just 40 days earlier.
As so often, Luke’s gospel has an ‘upside down’ aspect to it – another hint at the fulfilment of the promises of Mary’s Magnificat, that the mighty will be brought down and the humble raised up. This time it comes in the form of Simeon’s prophecy that Jesus “is destined for the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed”. This promise of upheaval may seem a strange contrast with Simeon’s earlier and more famous - and rather more serene - words of light, peace and salvation. Here we see a meeting of journeys: Simeon’s life’s journey of faithful, patient waiting is drawing to a peaceful close; while Jesus’ journey of disruptive grace and radical, transformative love is just beginning.
The metaphor of life being a journey, or faith being a journey, is a common one. Even in these times when our physical travel is so limited, we may have a sense of being on some sort of a journey. At times our journey may feel hard or dangerous, or it may feel like we are making very little progress, while at other times it may be a journey on which the joys and blessings are more obvious. But, like Jesus’ many journeys throughout his life, it is rarely uncomplicated. Often we will have mixed emotions about our speed and direction of travel. In the journeys we read about in scripture, and in journeying through scripture together (even while we are physically apart), there is much that we – like Mary – may find to ponder, in relation to our own journeys.
Reflection (Genny Tunbridge)
“I would love to return to my country one day – when it is safe. Maybe I can find out then if my mother or brothers and sisters are still alive.” These words from one of our asylum-seeking guests at the Old Rectory came back to me vividly as I read Matthew’s account of the holy family’s flight into Egypt and eventual return to Israel. It’s not surprising that this is the least read part of all the nativity narratives – the mortal peril for Jesus, the bittersweet of his escape when so many children died in Herod’s massacre: these do not fit well with comfortable stories of joy and peace at Christmas.
It would have been at least 40 miles from Bethlehem to Egypt, a difficult journey for a family with a young baby, on foot, in fear – and such perilous journeys are sadly still being repeated today. Overcrowded boats, airless containers, hopeless encampments, unscrupulous traffickers, so much danger and death risked along the way by those trying to escape from danger back home. These journeys often hit our headlines; we hear rather less about the reception refugees receive if they manage to reach our land. Matthew doesn’t tell us about how Joseph and Mary were treated in Egypt, but they were clearly able to stay – presumably no Home Office officials to question them: “I’m afraid dreams and angel warnings do not count as evidence of real risk of persecution. We need written proof. Where are your papers?”…
The journey for asylum seekers to achieve official refugee status in this county is often just as tortuous as, and usually much longer than, their journey to reach what they hoped would be a safe place – and it often has dangers of its own too. The dangers they are fleeing are no less real than that faced by baby Jesus, but providing the required evidence is not easy, and good legal advice is rarely available; many claims fail on the first attempt. When this happens, rejected asylum seekers have their basic accommodation and minimal allowance withdrawn, and are left ‘without recourse to public funds’, not allowed to work or to claim housing or benefits, in the hope that they will just go away back home. Many end up ‘sofa surfing’, staying with friends or family until they have outstayed their welcome, or living on the streets with all the dangers that entails. Some find support through organisations like Hope, or BIRCH (Birmingham Community Hosting) through whom we have offered a temporary home at the Old Rectory to several young women. With the support of various refugee charities some are eventually able to find better legal representation and put together a fresh claim for asylum – but this can often take many months or often years.
The system seems designed to make their journey as difficult and stressful as possible: paperwork for fresh asylum claims had to be submitted in person in Liverpool, regardless of where in the country the claimant was living (and how little money or confidence they had to make such a journey) – though now, suddenly, because of the pandemic, it is possible to email the claim instead. And one of our former guests is due to attend an in-person appeal hearing at 10 am in London next week, despite the pandemic; while another is being kept on tenterhooks, bags packed and ready, not knowing whether or when they will be moved to new accommodation by Home Office contractors Serco without notice. Being granted refugee status is not the end of the journey – all the usual challenges of life, with added risk of experiencing prejudice and racism, are still to be faced. But for many the longed-for prospect of refugee status remains on the far horizon, never getting any nearer. Life for so many asylum seekers feels like being in limbo, living with constant uncertainty and anxiety, their past painful to remember, their future on hold.
Jesus’ life was full of journeys. From the start of his public ministry in adulthood, he had no permanent home, but travelled around Galilee, and to and from Jerusalem, preaching, teaching, healing and gathering his band of followers as he went. He knew what it was like to be homeless (“Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head,” he says, in Luke’s gospel) though this itinerant life was his choice. But the journeys of his infancy were not his choice, nor even his parents’ choice – like so many others, Jesus experienced those difficult journeys made necessary by bureaucracy (travelling in Mary’s womb to Bethlehem for the family to be registered) and then by tyranny.
Jesus knew what it was to grow up in a refugee family. In Jesus’ incarnation, God not only took on human flesh, fully entered into vulnerable, bodily experience – but as one born into an ordinary family forced to become refugees, Jesus was not protected and privileged but shared the experience of risk, danger and uncertainty familiar to so many who are poor or dispossessed. From the beginning he was identified with outsiders, strangers, the displaced and unwanted.
In the much easier (and happier) journey described by Luke, after the 40 days from Jesus’ birth prescribed by Jewish religious law the family travelled 5 or so miles from Bethlehem to present him at the temple in Jerusalem. There Simeon greeted the baby as ‘a light of revelation the Gentiles’ and also as one destined to cause upheaval (the rising and falling of many). Jesus lived up to this prophecy in his teaching and in his actions, shining a light that exposed injustices and tyrannies, revealing the exploitation of the poor by the powerful, challenging religious and political authorities – at the cost of his own life (a sword piercing Mary’s soul).
As followers of Jesus, perhaps we can see today’s asylum seekers and refugees, homeless, stateless or dispossessed people as Jesus’ brothers and sisters. Like him they shine a light which reveals much that is uncomfortable and unjust about our country and our world, when we listen to their stories. Like him, they invite us to reflect on our own life journeys, to give thanks for the blessings of security and home which we often take for granted, and to pray and work for more hospitable world.
And for now, in these times when we all find ourselves displaced from our normal lives - our physical journeys limited, our holidays cancelled, our work transformed or suspended, our safety threatened by the virus, our minds and hearts circling exhaustingly through anxiety, fear, boredom, hope, depression, loneliness, claustrophobia, grief, anticipation – may we remember that Jesus is our brother too, and knows what we are going through. May his light warm our hearts in this uncertain time, and may he help us, together with all our brothers and sisters, neighbours and friends, see those glimpses of glory which help light our way.
Reflection (David Walton)
Matthew’s Gospel brings our romanticised Christmas nativity scene to an end. In Bethlehem Mary and Joseph would have been getting on with day-to-day life, away from home, in makeshift accommodation, caring for their first born. Did the townsfolk see or know anything was extraordinary? True some shepherds had told an amazing story, but shepherds do, they have a reputation for being untrustworthy. This just confirmed it. But then some strange visitors from the East just turn up. They visit Mary and Joseph, and they disappear. Not long after that Mary and Joseph are gone too. Then tragedy. Herod’s soldiers come, seized, and kill all the boys aged two and under. Despotic rulers fear any challenge to their power, even a tiny baby and as blood is shed on the ground evil laughs and Herod thinks he is safe once more. But Mary, Joseph and Jesus are travelling again finding safety in a foreign land. Jesus’ voice in the future has not been silenced, nor his actions prevented. God is still working his purpose out. We want our romanticised Christ, perhaps we wanted it more than ever this year. With everything nice, family together, we do not expect tragedy or bad news, yet it happens as it happened at the first Christmas. Whether it is natural disaster, illness, accident, or despotic rulers exercising their power. Refugees will still be on journeys trying to find safety in a world of hate. Many hoping their status means their voices will be silenced, their existence ignored by most.
Luke’s gospel has none of this tragic story but gives us an insight into the faith and longing of two elderly people in the Temple. In various articles, reflecting on this passage, words are attributed to Pope Francis along the lines of the following:
It is unpleasant to say it, but the elderly are put to one side because they are considered a nuisance…. (however), old people are those who tell us the history of things, who carry forward the faith and give it to us to inherit. A society that does not care for, and respect the elderly, does not have a future because it does not have memories. They are the treasure of our society.
Like Zechariah and Elizabeth, Simeon and Anna only make a fleeting entry into the Gospel narrative. However, in their briefest of cameos they teach us so much about expectant longing—humble, selfless, and heartfelt rejoicing—confident hope and trust. Like those navigating the long wait through Advent, standing as a metaphor for the wait through history for divine restorative justice, Simeon and Anna have patiently waited for a ‘sign’, a ‘message’, that they can pin their hopes on. Like the outcome of the light fluttering sensation of the baby inside Elizabeth’s first kick, Anna in that moment of illumination, knew God’s Spirit in her heart and was brought to praise the Lord.
Simeon and Anna brought a big expectation upon this infant. Yet, they were sure, very sure, he was the one! The Creator God had shown his hand of love. Of course, coming so early in the Gospel it goes without saying that this event in the life of Jesus is no end point; it is an embarkation point into the story developing further. For Simeon and Anna, there is recognition that their own stories might not have as long to go as the stories of those, like Jesus’ own parents, much younger in years, or indeed the stories of those yet unborn. But, for this faithful elderly pair it was almost enough that they had been privileged to have this briefest of glimpses into the divine promise. Could they now die happy? Is that part of faith and our relationship with God, that not only is ‘hope’ for the present moment, for us, but as much for those who come after us, part of God’s enduring love for all? Simeon and Anna are portrayed as ones who are ready to hand over the baton. In our churches up and down the land, and across the world, there are many like Simeon and Anna. This is not to say there is not still much to live for, and give, and indeed to desire, but in such people, there is an energy of expectation and longing for the world of the future and the generations younger than they are.
The year 2020, for many in this older generation, has been one of loss, challenge, loneliness, and fear. Covid-19 will have no doubt brought back memories of previous struggles endured, hardships they would never have thought would have to be experienced again. This year undoubtedly, too, will have sparked concern for younger loved ones making their way in the world, for society and the world in general. The faith of our senior generations is like that!
What is our continuing response to the birth of Jesus, the coming of Good News? Advent has peaked and Christmas has been celebrated. We already moving on to the next thing, returning to live in the shadow of the concerns we have become accustomed to bearing in this last year? Or, is there something of the glow of the eternal promise of Christmas, that we will endeavour to keep stoked going forward as we work out how we can continue to live within the expectation, hope and reality and promise of Incarnate Love?
Reflection: ‘Journeys’ (Clare Forrester)
I am writing this little story of me. I was born in Jamaica and at the age of 17 years I left my home to come to live in England. I did this because there was no work in Jamaica and I had two elder brothers who had migrated to England and they really liked it there. I had trained to be a seamstress but had always wanted to be a nurse but I wasn’t allowed to because my dad didn’t want that for me. I was so determined and fixed my mind on leaving so my dad gave me the money for the boat fare. It took two and a half weeks to get to England and although I travelled on my own I loved every minute of it. Some of you may know how I love my cruises so maybe that’s where I got my love of them from.
When I arrived in England it was strange and I thought all the terraced houses were factories as in Jamaica we lived in beautiful bungalows with lots of land surrounding each one. It was different in Birmingham all the houses tightly packed together. My brothers were lucky enough to live in a three bedroom house and so I stayed with them. But I did miss the sunshine and the good weather. I met a lovely Irish lady who was a neighbour and was very good to me and made me feel welcome. I also met one of my brother’s friends and I got married to him quite soon after I arrived.
I worked as a seamstress for a while until I had my children. My husband and I got divorced and as my children had grown up and had had made lives of their own I was invited by a friend to move to London. I jumped at the chance to be my own person again. Whilst there I got a job as an auxiliary nurse which led to me achieving my ambition to go through proper training and became a nurse in a hospital in London. I was a nurse for 24 years until I retired and loved it a lot. In the 1980s this gave me the opportunity to travel and I went to New York and then Miami to visit relatives. I also got to go on my first cruise to Egypt and I was bitten by the cruising life. I loved being on the ships and travelled all over the place, to the USA and South America. But my favourite place I love and enjoy most is sailing in the Caribbean, especially in the winter when it can be so cold in Birmingham. I hope you have enjoyed me telling you about my journeys.
God bless us all, Clare
Questions for reflection / discussion
As I read / listened to the readings and reflections for this week…
Poems / prayers for this week
The Holy Family at the Border, by Margaret Pritchard Houston
From Home to Home, by Ilan Kelman
Flight into Egypt: A benediction, by Kathy Galloway
Our brother Jesus,
you set our feet upon the way
and sometimes where you lead
we do not like or understand.
bless us with courage where the way is fraught with dread.
bless us with graceful meetings where the way is lonely.
bless us with good companions
where the way demands a common path.
bless us with night vision when we travel in the dark,
keen hearing where we have not sight.
bless us with humour –
we cannot travel lightly weighed down by gravity.
bless us with humility to learn from those around us.
bless us with decisiveness where we must move with speed.
bless us with lazy moments, to stretch and rest and savour.
bless us with love, given and received.
And bless us with your presence,
even when we know it in your absence.
Lead us into exile
until we find that on the road
is where you are
and where you are is going home.
Bless us, lead us, love us
bring us home
bearing the gospel of life.
The Presentation, Russian icon, by Nicola Slee
‘And suddenly the Lord … will come to his Temple’ (Malachi 3:1)
Were you expecting fire?
Or a grand procession of soldiers
flattening the doors
as the King of glory enters?
Here is something more terrible,
more beautiful and terrible:
an infant clothed only in his nakedness,
the Word before all worlds mewling and babbling,
throwing up his mother’s milk.
It is his very nakedness will clothe us,
his speechlessness will save us,
his innocence will wash all our mouths of their foulness
with his fuller’s soap,
his flesh, as an offering, will burn our own half-heartedness
and all our hearts will smart with the alkali of God.
Activities / conversation-starters
with young (and not-so-young!) people
- In today’s Bible readings, Simeon and Anna had been waiting for a long time to see the promised Messiah. When they saw Jesus they immediately recognised him. I wonder what you feel like you are waiting for at the moment? How will you recognise when it is here? How does the waiting feel?
- Simeon and Anna praised God when they saw Jesus. I wonder how they felt when they saw him – amazed? excited? surprised? thankful? Think of a time when you have seen something or someone really special. How did you feel? Go outside if you can, either in the garden or for a walk, and look for something that makes you feel amazed, excited, surprised or thankful. Praise God for the good things you see.
- In our other Bible reading today, Mary, Joseph and Jesus become refugees, travelling to Egypt to escape from Herod. What do you know about refugees today? And how can you find out more? Pray for refugees – you can write or draw a prayer, say one out loud, or pray silently in your head.
- You can download, print and play a boardgame to learn more about refugees here: https://www.christianaid.org.uk/get-involved/schools/safe-place-ludo-game
- You can watch a reading of the short illustrated story ‘Refuge’ (about Mary, Joseph and Jesus’ journey to Egypt), on this YouTube link: https://youtu.be/2prB_fqwbnI
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