Week 28: Jesus - Journeys

 

'Holy Family' by Kelly Latimore      

           

                                             'Presentation', by James Janknegt

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…

·       what did I notice, or what particularly stood out for me?
·       what did they make me wonder, or what questions am I pondering?
·       what am I discovering about Jesus?
·       how might these (noticings, wonderings, realisations & discoveries) change the way I live out my faith?
·       is there anything I want to do or change in the light of this week's topic?

Poems / prayers for this week

The Holy Family at the Border, by Margaret Pritchard Houston

They have walked all night

through the desert,

this couple: José y Maria

and the baby.

duermete mi niño

duermete por favor.

Por favor.

Their English isn’t great –

they’ve got a bit.

Yes sir. No sir. Thank you sir. They’ve got that down pat.

For the guards with their sunglasses, sidearms,

they know these abstract holy words: Asylum. Sanctuary.

They have walked all night,

and for a few weeks before, they have been

on highways, and dirt roads with donkeys.

They know about donkeys.

The baby reached for a velvet ear, babbling, eyes bright.

Once, a man let Maria ride it for a while, resting,

the baby in her arms. El burro, she whispered,

Jesús, mira. El burro.

And behind them, there are other families

with boys in their arms.

And behind them the ravaging shadows of the soldiers

kicking down your door,

churning with adrenaline and coke and permission:

Herod’s orders.

Herod, the master, the cancer, disaster and saviour,

the last line of freedom against the rampaging Empire

knocking at your door, the saviour of Judea, the freedom, the leader,

without me, you get Caesar.

Herod, western suited, Cuban cigars,

a sash of tribal fabric

to show he’s one of ours.

Maria holds the baby,

her breast in his mouth,

milk like manna in this desert

like water from the hard rock of her body,

muscled and sunburned.

Her t-shirt hiked up.

The icons showing this moment, serene,

this scene an enactment of a prophecy,

an it-was-written dream.

But here

in the desert

with the soldiers at her heels,

she feels

they left the angels behind long ago.

And ahead

is a wall

barbed wire, the fire

of five hundred years of ships and guns and gold

and here

at the border

the father raises his arms

and begs help

from the mirror-eyed men with weapons:

we have the child.

* * *

From Home to Home, by Ilan Kelman

This poem of the motion

Describes the ceaseless sea

Aroused by the soft breeze

Conversing with the shore.

This poem of the movement

Drinks dust up from the trail

Coerced by wild wind

Mirages through the heat.

This poem of migration

Hides qualms about the choice

To leave and start anew

For gain, for loss, for us.

This poem of escaping

Farewells the chilling kiss

For love that’s cleaved by flight

The eyes soon cease their gaze.

This poem of refugee

Leaves everything behind.

Breaks bonds which made a life.

Starts raw from all that’s gone.

This poem entangling time

The past that never will

The future never was

The present cannot be.

These poems of the refuge

Freeze fears of what might be

Hold hopes for what could come

Weeps pain and cries with joy.

 

There are lots more poems and creative writing, written by refugees themselves, and those who have shared their lives with them, on the ‘refugee hosts’ website: https://refugeehosts.org/category/writing/

* * *

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

 

Week 27: Jesus - Visitors

'Nativity', by Brian Kershisnik

Matthew 2:1-12

2 In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, magi from the East came to Jerusalem, ² asking, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.” ³ When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; ⁴ and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. ⁵ They told him, “In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet:

⁶ ‘And 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.’”

⁷ Then Herod secretly called for the magi and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. ⁸ Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, “Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.” ⁹ When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. ¹⁰ When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. ¹¹ On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. ¹² And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.

* * *

Luke 2:8-20

⁸ In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. ⁹ Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. ¹⁰ But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: ¹¹ to you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is the Messiah, the Lord. ¹² This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” ¹³ And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying,

¹⁴ “Glory to God in the highest heaven,
    and on earth peace among those whom he favours!”

¹⁵ When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.” ¹⁶ So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. ¹⁷ When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; ¹⁸ and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. ¹⁹ But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. ²⁰ The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.

A ‘cutting’ of tree wisdom: ‘Tree visitors’ (Genny Tunbridge)

Native trees are those which colonised the area of Britain after the last ice age, while the land was still connected to mainland Europe. Those which arrived (by deliberate or accidental human introduction) after the UK became separate from Europe - non-native trees – might be regarded as a kind of visitor. 

Some tree visitors are exotic, not really designed for our climate and terrain, mostly only found in specialist arboreta or planted and carefully tended in gardens. Palm trees and eucalyptus, bamboo, magnolia or tulip tree… often flamboyant, striking, they remind us of distant lands and different cultures. But other visiting trees have made themselves very much at home, growing freely in the wild or commonly planted in our streets and parks, and seem to have been here always: chestnut and horse chestnut, sycamore, London plane, copper beech… Even apples, plums and pears started out as visitors, but the gifts they bring have been so very welcome, we have made sure they stayed!

Among environmentalists there is an ambivalence about the role of introduced, non-native trees. Sycamore, for example has been with us at least since the 15^th century, possibly since Roman times. It has often been regarded as invasive and unhelpful, hosting relatively little insect life compared to some native species; yet its pollen, nectar and seeds are beneficial to bees, birds and mammals. And as our climate is changing too rapidly, in our streets more non-native trees are being planted as they are better adapted to thrive in increased temperatures.

Introduction to the theme (Al Barrett)

In this week after the feast of Epiphany, we’re thinking about the different kinds of visitors to the baby Jesus, as told in Matthew’s and Luke’s gospels. We’ve already (in the lead-up to Christmas) caught a glimpse of the differences of emphasis, and of content, in these two gospels’ accounts of Jesus’ birth, and how our familiar ‘nativity story’ is really a mish-mash of bits from those two different stories. Today, we see those differences laid out clearly.

Matthew’s gospel, characteristically, picks up references from the Hebrew bible (what we Christians often call the ‘Old Testament’) to point to Jesus as fulfilling what the prophets said. Matthew quotes the prophet Micah (‘and you, Bethlehem…’), but gives it a subtle twist: ‘one of the little clans of Judah’, says Micah (5:2) – ‘by no means least among the rulers of Judah’, says Matthew. And there’s more. Surely Matthew, as he writes his story here, has the words of the prophet Isaiah in mind:

‘Nations shall come to your light,
and kings to the brightness of your dawn.
…the wealth of the nations shall come to you.
A multitude of camels shall cover you…
They shall bring gold and frankincense,
and shall proclaim the praise of the Lord.’ (Isaiah 60:3, 5-6)

Matthew makes no mention of kings (his ‘magi’ are astrologers), or camels (but we can guess how they’ve crept into our nativity scenes!) – but we get the impression that the magi from the land of the rising sun are representing, for Matthew, ‘the nations’ of Isaiah’s prophecy, and he uses Isaiah’s ‘gold and frankincense’ to point to Jesus as the ‘light’, ‘the brightness of [the] dawn’. What Matthew also introduces, though, is the third gift of myrrh (used for the anointing of the dying and the dead), and the frightened King Herod – who, we will soon discover, turns out to be a genocidal tyrant – in stark contrast to Isaiah’s kings who ‘proclaim the praise of the Lord’.

Where Matthew’s God sends messages (to Joseph, to the magi) in dreams, Luke continues with angels – from Mary’s visit from Gabriel to, now, a multitude of them, appearing to the shepherds. For Luke’s angels, ‘Don’t be afraid’ is there consistent message: because Jesus is God’s ‘good news’ for all people. And the all is significant here. Matthew’s ‘all’ is about the nations of the world. Luke’s ‘all’ is concerned most with those Mary herself has sung of as the ‘lowly’ and the ‘hungry’. Luke’s Jesus, remember, is the bringer of God’s ‘upside-down kin-dom’, and after God’s beginning with the humble Mary of Nazareth, here God uses shepherds – marginal shift-workers, outside ‘polite society’ – to be witnesses, messengers (like the angels themselves): the bearers to Mary and Joseph of the angels’ message, and to be the voices of God’s glory and praise on their return journey.

Two different stories, then; two different kinds of visitor – giving us a glimpse into two different aspects of the truth of the gospels. In the arrival of Jesus, the mighty are humbled and disturbed (Matthew), and the humble are entrusted with the joy of the ‘good news’ (Luke). And in our inherited mish-mash of a nativity story, is there some truth too? Perhaps it is something like this:

In a Mexican slum there is a destitute old woman who each year puts up an extensive nativity set. The Christ Child is in the centre, of course, and around him she places dozens and dozens of figures of people and animals. This is no matched set! None of the figurines match; and they are not in scale with each other, some only an inch high, some several feet tall. She just clutters the set with whatever figurines she can find. But there is a great truth hidden in this mish mash of nativity characters. Although the senora cannot read or write, she has the spiritual insight to see that Christ reconciles and brings together all the diverse people of the earth.

Reflection (Ruth Harley)

It may seem strange to be thinking about the theme of ‘visitors’ at this time when our ability to visit or to receive visitors is very limited or non-existent. I know that is something many of us have been missing terribly, especially over the Christmas period.

But cast your mind back for a moment to a pre-Covid world. I wonder, can you think of a time when you have visited somewhere new and found it – in some way – strange, different, unexpected, or even unsettling? Perhaps staying with someone whose household operates very differently to yours, or experiencing a different culture or language? 

My mum likes to tell the story of when she took me, aged 3, to visit her friends, and I encountered something I had not encountered before - a tablecloth! I apparently spent most of the meal trying to look underneath it, and for weeks afterwards I kept telling everyone we met “my Mummy has a friend with a tablecloth!” There is nothing inherently strange or surprising about tablecloths. If we had had a tablecloth at home, no doubt theirs would have seemed unremarkable, but because it was something new and different from my previous experience, I was fascinated by it. 

As adults, we tend to be better at hiding our astonishment when we encounter things which are quite ordinary to other people, but seem new and different to us. But we still feel it. I remember the first time I visited a Mosque, and also the first time I visited a Deaf Club when I was learning British Sign Language, as times when I have particularly noticed the strangeness to me as a visitor of an environment which is very ordinary to my host.  I think perhaps that sense of strangeness is part of the essence of the experience of being a visitor, and our response to it may vary – from wariness, to curiosity, to excitement, to fear. 

In today’s readings, we have two very different accounts of visitors to the infant Jesus, and two quite different reactions to encountering something – or rather, someone – new and strange. Notice that both accounts start with fear. Herod, in Matthew’s gospel, “is frightened” when the magi tell him about the messiah for whom they are searching. The shepherds, in Luke’s gospel, “were terrified” by the sudden appearance of the angels. But what happens next is where these two stories of the nativity diverge significantly. The shepherds move beyond their fear - or perhaps they ‘feel the fear and do it anyway’, as the popular phrase has it - and they set out on a journey: a journey which will change them. By the time they are on the return journey from their visit to Jesus, they are no longer afraid, but “glorifying and praising God”. 

Not so Herod. While Luke depicts what we might see as a certain amount of character development for the shepherds, on a journey of transformation from fear to joy, Matthew draws a contrast between the fearfulness of Herod and the reaction of the magi to Jesus, who are “overwhelmed with joy”. This contrast only serves to underline the fear felt by Herod – fear which, we know and the readers of Matthew’s gospel are about to find out – would lead to genocidal action in the massacre of the innocents. There is no transformation here – at least not for Herod. 

What we have here are two very different reactions to encounter with the Other. Jesus is in many ways the ultimate ‘other’ – God made human, the strangeness of the Divine inhabiting the familiarity of our flesh. And encountering this Other, this messiah, requires a response. 

The shepherds respond by allowing themselves to be transformed. They unhesitatingly decided to go to Bethlehem, to accept this invitation to become visitors of the divine, to become open to whatever strange or unexpected things this encounter may bring. And their openness, their receptivity to the stranger in their midst, enables them to be transformed, to leave that encounter changed, overflowing with praise and wonder.

Herod’s reaction to news of the messiah is neither open nor receptive. Rather, he is immediately defensive. Fear, secrecy and deception characterise his response in this passage, and will soon be followed by violence. It is a response emphasised by the contrast with the gift-giving, rejoicing magi. 

There are all sorts of factors underpinning these different reactions. The shepherds perhaps do not have much to lose, while Herod is clinging to the familiarity and security of his own power. The shepherds – most likely itinerant workers, used to being the outsider – are accustomed to seeing themselves as the visitors, the strangers, the guests, the ones who have to adapt themselves to ‘the way things are done round here’.  Whereas Herod, with all his power and wealth, is more used to being the host, and doing things on his own terms. 

And what of us? How do we respond to the Other? How do we allow ourselves to be met and transformed by God, even in the strangeness of situations and encounters which we might approach with uncertainty or even fear? How do we learn to become the sort of visitors the shepherds are – open and receptive to meeting God in new and unexpected ways, in strange and unfamiliar people and places? 

Perhaps it feels at the moment like there is quite enough strangeness going on without us seeking it out. These are strange times, for sure, and unsettling for many of us. But, paradoxically, these are also times which, for many of us are limiting our horizons. Not only are we not able to travel or to visit and encounter the Other in new places or contexts, we are also missing out on many of those day-to-day chance encounters and conversations which give us glimpses of the Divine in the face of neighbours and strangers. 

Perhaps this is a time when we need to be intentional about finding ways to visit the Divine in new and unexpected places. That might be in our conversations with others, in what we choose to read or watch or listen to, and hopefully in this new series of Trees of Life reflections too. Wherever and however we can, let us approach the new, the strange, the Other, the unknown with curiosity and openness, ready to be transformed, prepared to allow our fears to give way to joy and praise, receptive to encountering God in unfamiliar ways.

Reflection (Gloria Smith)

I remember when our daughter Emma was born and how many visitors came, both family and friends over the first few days and I was inundated with all kinds of gifts. She was the firstborn grandchild in both families and that made her special- to our family at least. If it had happened today during the pandemic we wouldn’t have been able to celebrate as much, visitors wouldn’t be allowed and any gifts would have come via Amazon or through the post. It would be far less celebratory. But then again this isn’t normal times is it?

And it wasn’t really normal times in Palestine 2000 years ago. Palestine was occupied by the Romans and according to Luke, Joseph and Mary had to travel from Nazareth to Bethlehem to take part in a census. If that is the case Mary and Joseph wouldn’t have had many visitors as they obviously had no family or friends they could stay with in Bethlehem otherwise they wouldn’t have had to sleep in a stable. Yet they did have visitors, not family and friends as you might expect but according to Matthew a group of astrologers bearing gifts and according to Luke, some shepherds from the surrounding hills; a strange selection of visitors to see the Son of God.

So how did they get to hear about the birth? The reading today from Matthew writes that the astrologers/wise men/Magi came from faraway countries. They spent their lives looking up at the stars and interpreting what they meant. They had seen a new star which they believed would lead them to the King of the Jews. They went to the king at the time Herod believing he would know where he would be. The chief priest told them about a Jewish prophecy that the Messiah would be born in Bethlehem. They went and found the stable and gave gives of Gold, Frankincense and Myrrh. That really is all the information we have in the bible about these travellers other than that they came from the east. The Church has attempted to fill in more detail about the wise men. It is assumed there were three of them as they each brought a gift and theologians/historians believe that they came from what is now Iran, Iraq and in the western church India, or in parts of the orthodox church, Ethiopia. The western church named them as Balthazar, Melchior and Gaspar although the orthodox church has different names for them. What are the most important things about them was that they were not thought to be Jewish, they were from different countries, had travelled hundreds if not a thousand mile following the star and had brought gifts; gold as a gift fit for a king, frankincense to identify the baby as being divine and more unusually myrrh as a prophecy for his death. 

So although the tradition is of them travelling together from one place, it is more likely they came from different places and probably worshipped different gods. Their perseverance is remarkable to travel so far and even if by camel would have taken 2 to 3months or more of travelling through inhospitable deserts with blazing temperatures with little water along the way. They must have thought this was a very special baby to give up so much time and effort just to see him. They responded with commitment, perseverance and belief. 

The other visitors to see the baby Jesus did not have so far to travel. They were shepherds out in the hills nearby to Bethlehem. They were visited by angels who told them the good news and immediately the shepherds responded and went to visit this new born baby.  Shepherds lived with their sheep and goats, sleeping out at night and they weren’t particularly welcomed in the villages and towns as they were thought to be dirty and smelly. They lived an almost nomadic existence as the pasture if it could be called that was sparse and the sheep would roam long distances to graze so they were constantly on the move.  Also in Palestine 2000 years ago, there were wild animals that would prey upon the sheep and goats so the shepherds had to be brave, tough and willing to fight off the wolves and wild dogs in order to protect their livestock. So in essence they weren’t well educated members of the community who would be invited in for a meal, they were on the margins of society, necessary to provide meat for food and sacrifice, but not to be friends with. So for the shepherds to be given this message was amazing! But again they responded with commitment, and belief. This is what drove them to go and find the baby the angels had told them about.

What a mish-mash of visitors to visit any newborn baby, let alone the Son of God! Certainly not what would be expected to visit the Messiah, the King of Israel- foreigners, outsiders and non-believers. Why were these people the ones chosen to follow a star and have angels appear to them? It is this upside-down kingdom again that is found in Luke’s gospel. The message about this new baby was not given to the respected religious leaders of the day but to unlikely ordinary people who weren’t necessarily religious, going about their everyday lives. But these people had two things in common a belief and a commitment to what they recognised as the truth – that this baby was indeed special and worth visiting, worth giving up their time and worth making an effort for, worth responding to.

Of course there were other visitors, although not named, there must have been the animals. The shepherds would never have left their most vulnerable and precious sheep, their lambs or kids to the mercy of the wolves. They would have brought them along. As the manger was in a stable I’m sure animals would have been there too. 

God chose the least likely of people to receive the message and I think that is what she does today. Don’t look for signs in church but out there, to the ones labelled as outsiders, to people who on the surface are as unlikely candidates for hearing and responding to God’s message as back then. That means we need to be on the lookout for those signs not within our church but out there in the community, amongst the mish-mash that is our world.

No dignitaries, no religious folk but foreigners, outsiders and the marginalised, alongside with creatures of God’s creation. From the rich to the poor, form Jew to gentile, from close by and far away, from human and non-human these were the unlikely ones who responded and visited God incarnate in the form of that small baby Jesus. For us that sends a clear message – that Jesus became incarnate for the whole world not for the chosen few, but for those on the edges, those who don’t fit in, the ordinary – but definitely for those who see the signs, hear the good news and respond. 

Images of Jesus: ‘The Good Shepherd’ (Beth Millman)

When I first started thinking about writing a reflection on the image of Jesus as a good Shepherd it suddenly occurred to me that growing up in Birmingham I didn’t even know what the qualities of a shepherd were let alone a good shepherd. So I did some research:

•   A good Shepherd needs to not only know all about sheep but to know each one of their flock individually. 

•   A good shepherd needs to be able to know what their sheep need to remain happy and healthy 

•   A good shepherd needs to be committed to looking after their sheep in all weathers. 

•   A good shepherd needs to be aware of dangers to their flock and be willing to protect them.

Sheep and Shepherds are mentioned a lot in the bible, not only as a description of real sheep and real shepherds, but also to describe God’s people and their leaders - however, it is only Jesus that describes himself as the ‘Good Shepherd’. I began thinking about how the above qualities can make someone good at looking after a flock of sheep, how they can be seen in Jesus and why he may have been seen and described as the Good Shepherd.  

In the passage from John 10, Jesus makes a comparison between himself as a ‘Good Shepherd’ and the ‘hired hand’. The hired hand is described as running away when danger arises and a wolf attacks the flock. He ran away because he did not own the sheep nor did he care for the sheep. He was unwilling to sacrifice himself to protect the sheep and had other, more selfish reasons for playing the role of the shepherd. 

Jesus then compares himself to the hired hand and says, “I am the good shepherd, I know my sheep and they know me”. Jesus is talking about how he knows ‘us’ as individuals and how our relationship with him is like a Shepherds with each of their sheep. He goes on to proclaim the sacrifice he will make for us, as well as his love making this sacrifice by saying “I lay down my life for the sheep”. 

There have been so many times over the last 12 months where I have felt lost and hopeless whilst navigating through the COVID 19 pandemic, much like a flock of sheep without a good shepherd. A lot of my normal coping mechanisms, like so many peoples, were taken away or changed causing life to feel harder and more of a struggle during some of the most challenging times I have ever experienced. However, knowing that Jesus knows and loves me, and letting him protect and guide me was incredibly helpful. 

So, when you find yourself in the darkest of places facing the hardest of challenges, things are much more bearable and hopeful with a good shepherd at your side. 

Questions for reflection / discussion

As I read / listened to the readings and reflections for this week…
·       what did I notice, or what particularly stood out for me?
·       what did they make me wonder, or what questions am I pondering?
·       what have they helped me realise?
·       what am I discovering about Jesus?
·       how might these (noticings, wonderings, realisations & discoveries) change the way I live out my faith?

·       is there anything I want to do or change in the light of this week's topic?

 

Poems / prayers for this week:

We call them wise
and I had always thought of them that way
respecting the pilgrimage of anyone
who sees a star and follows it
to his discomforting -
being prepare to change.
And yet -
in following their star, the star
that was to lead them to
enlargement of the soul (their own) -
they blundered mightily, and set in train
the massacre of many innocents.
Naïve and foolish men they were, not wise,
to go and ask of Herod ‘Where’s
your rival, where
is he who might unseat you?’

I wonder if, back
in their own countries,
for all that they themselves were born again,
they heard the voice of Rachel
weeping for her children
refusing to be comforted
because they were no more?

Kate Compston

Shepherd of Israel

and Light of all Nations,

made known in the gifts

of those who call 

    to other names

and walk on different ways:

may unjust powers

and the hatred within us

be dismayed by your friendship

and dethroned by your love;

through Jesus Christ,

and dethroned by your love;

through Jesus Christ,

and dethroned by your love;

through Jesus Christ,

the open arms of grace.

Amen.

Steven Shakespeare 

O God, the source of all insight,
whose coming was revealed 
   to the nations
not among men of power 
but on a woman’s lap:
give us grace to seek you
where you may be found,
that the wisdom of the world 
may be humbled
and discover your 
   unexpected joy,
through Jesus Christ, Amen.

Janet Morley

 

Activities / conversation-starters with young (and not-so-young!) people

• In today’s readings, we hear about two very different groups of visitors to Jesus: the shepherds, and the magi. I wonder where you are in these stories… which group can you imagine yourself visiting Jesus with? And why?

• The magi bring gifts to Jesus. Each gift symbolises something important about who Jesus is. What do you think is important about who Jesus is? What gift would you bring to symbolise that? You might like to draw a picture. 

• After the shepherds have seen Jesus, the return “glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen”. Imagine being one of the shepherds at this point. What would you say (or maybe sing!) to praise God? You might like to write down or record your ideas, as a poem, a prayer, or a song.