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Leap For Joy!
December 25, 2022

First United Methodist Church of Palo Alto

MATTHEW 2:1-12

Diane Allen writes a meditation every Sunday based on the Scripture lesson. As they are so unique and inspirational, we have been sending them out in a weekly email. Today’s meditation is so good, I’m incorporating part of it in this sermon.

“Jesus was born in Bethlehem just as the prophets foretold! 

But not everyone celebrates even while believing Jesus is the Messiah.

Today's reading shows contrasting reactions. 

The wise men believe. A star inspires them to travel great distances. They announce their purpose, to worship the child born king of the Jews. Joy overwhelms them when the star stops over the place where Jesus is. 

King Herod also believes. But he is frightened. His fear spreads to all of Jerusalem. He consults his advisors but does not go himself. He secretly calls for the wise men, saying, "Go and search diligently for the child." 

Fear versus joy. Secrecy versus open announcement. Sending others versus seeing for yourself. Pretending that Jesus can only be found by searching diligently versus following a star that anyone might see.

How do you react?” Fear, confusion, ho-hum, take it for granted, happy because you like the Christmas gifts? Or, do you react with joy?

Pregnant Mary visited her pregnant cousin Elizabeth. When Elizabeth saw Mary, the baby in Elizabeth’s womb leaped for joy. The coming of the Messiah, the birth of the baby Jesus, is a gift of joy, a gift from God. Uncontainable, irrepressible joy is all around us, waiting to be experienced. “Joy to the world” we sing. Why is there joy? Because, “the Lord is come.” How can we not experience joy when we realize the Lord has come. And, when the Lord comes into your life, the joy is uncontainable. When heaven is your destination, when the kingdom of God is your home, joy is irrepressible.

There’s an old story in Mexico about a little girl called Pepita who wanted nothing more than to give the Christ child a beautiful gift on Christmas Eve. But, Pepita was very poor. She felt she had nothing to give. Her cousin, slightly older and wiser, told her that no gift was too humble. Other versions of the story say an angel appeared to Pepita and told her that If she gave the gift with love, the Christ child would be pleased. So on the way to church, she gathered a bunch of brightly colored weeds, and placed them at the nativity scene. All of a sudden, the weeds transformed into beautiful red flowers.

Poinsettias get their American name from Joel Roberts Poinsett, the first U.S. ambassador to Mexico. He brought them to the U.S. from Mexico in the early 1800s.

A weed is now a symbol of God’s best. God can take weeds and transform them into plants of beauty. God can take people and transform their lives. Some people consider themselves adequate. They have little need for God. They overlook the weeds in their lives. But, other people feel their lives are overgrown with weeds. They feel there is not much God or anyone can do. They have given up. But, God can take people who think they are nothing but weeds and transform them into beautiful flowers. 

When you look at poinsettias, can you not help feeling joyful? When you feel despondent, depressed, sad, look at poinsettias and remember how God can take weeds and transform them into beautiful symbols of Christmas. The good news of Christmas is how God came to the earth to transform you from a spectator to a disciple, to transform you from a weed to a flower. 

One of my favorite Christmas stories is told by Nancy Dahlberg. Her family celebrated Christmas Eve with her husband’s parents in San Francisco, and they were headed back to Los Angeles on Christmas Day. They stopped for lunch in King City. The restaurant was nearly empty. Suddenly, Erik, her one-year-old, squealed with glee, “Hithere!” (Two words he thought were one)). “Hithere!” He pounded his fat baby hands on the metal high chair tray. His face was alive with excitement, eyes wide, gums bared in a toothless grin. He wriggled, chirped, giggled. Mystified, Nancy looked around and saw the source of his merriment.

An old man in a tattered rag of a coat, obviously bought by someone else eons ago; dirty, greasy, worn baggy pants, a spindly body, toes that poked out of old shoes, a shirt that had ring-around-the-collar, and a face like none other with gums as bare as Erik’s. “Hi there, baby! Hi there, big boy. I see ya, buster.” The parents exchanged a look that was a cross between “what do we do?” and “poor guy.”

The meal came and the noise continued. Now the old man was shouting from across the room, “Do you know patty cake? Atta boy. Do ya know peek-a-boo? Hey, look, he knows peek-a-boo!” Erik continued to laugh and answer, “Hithere.” Every call was echoed. No one thought it was cute. The parents were embarrassed. Even the six-year-old asked, “Why is that man talking so loud?” 

They ate as fast as they could. Erik’s father hurried to pay the check, imploring his wife to get Erik and meet him in the parking lot. She bolted for the door, hoping the man wouldn’t speak. As she walked past him, Erik, with his eyes riveted to his new best friend, leaned over his mother’s arms, and reached out his arms to the man.

As she came eye-to-eye with the old man, Erik was lunging for him, arms spread wide. The old man's eyes and his mouth implored, “Would you let me hold your baby?” There was no need for her to answer. Erick leaped for joy into the man’s arms and laid his tiny head upon the man's ragged shoulder. The man’s eyes closed and tears hovered beneath his lashes. His aged hands full of grime, pain and hard labor gently, so gently, stroked the baby’s back.

Nancy stood awe-struck as the old man rocked and cradled Erik. Then he opened his eyes, looked at Nancy and said in a firm, commanding voice, “You take care of this baby.” Somehow she managed, “I will.” As he handed Erik back to his mother, the man said, “God bless you, ma’am. You’ve given me my Christmas gift.” With Erik back in her arms, she ran for the car. Her husband wondered why she was crying, holding Erik so tightly, and saying, “My God, my God, forgive me.”

She learned a great deal that Christmas. She learned to look beyond outward appearances, beyond preconceptions and prejudice. She learned to look at people from God’s point of view. And, the old man? His Christmas with a little baby was pure joy. This afternoon, we will hold our new great-granddaughter with pure joy.

May you also leap for joy, reflecting on all you have been given. Joy is a gift from God.

© 2022 Douglas I. Norris