Luke 1:39-45 · Mary Visits Elizabeth
Made New By Taking A Different Road Home
Luke 1:39-45, Luke 1:46-56
Sermon
by Richard A. Wing
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We are made new when we dare to go home by another way. This reality has ancient roots. The stories of the season are about people who were made new by taking a different road home. Mary visited Elizabeth and remained there three months. She went home by another way. After saying earlier, "Do with me as you will," before God, and after singing her song of praise to God, she went home a different way.

Bethlehem is a place from which, once you've been there, you cannot go home the same way. The shepherds may have taken the same road there, but the way home was different. The Magi were warned in a dream to "leave by another route." Joseph and Mary would be warned also in a dream to head to Egypt by a circuitous route. The road to Bethlehem and the road from Bethlehem are never the same. You can't bow at the manger and see the world the same again.

Poets know this. Robert Frost would poetically inform us that "here is before each of us a decision, much like a fork in the road. Having been where we have been, having seen what we have seen, we must now decide who we will be." The poets know about the roads that lead us to places that never leave us the same.

Another poet reflected on the Magi searching for truth and finding their way to Bethlehem. When asked how far they will go for the truth, one Magi responded by saying, "Not too far, just far enough so we can say we've been there." Is that us? We will be hanging around the manger for several weeks in this season. The question we must ask is how far down a different path we will let this little town take us.

Several angles of vision stand before us as we think of the road to and the road from Bethlehem.

The road to Bethlehem is hurried; the road from Bethlehem has speed bumps. The most laughable moments in this season surround people who are in too much of a hurry. For me, the most laughable moment in this season was my trip to the Post Office fourteen days before Christmas. I must let you know that the best invention of the postal service has been those peel-off stamps. Since my wife used to give me the job of licking stamps at Christmas, I see that as a modern miracle. Posted on the door of the Post Office, a sign read, "We are all out of peel-off Christmas stamps. We still have Christmas stamps that must be moistened to affix." That seemed clear enough to me. A woman stepped up to the counter and insisted on getting the peel-off ones. The kind man informed her that they were all out, but that he had the ones that needed moistening. She went into a tirade about the postal service and the man listened. Finally, she said she would take the ones that needed moistening, and when they were handed to her, she told the postal worker that HE needed to lick them and put them on her cards because she was too busy and in a hurry. At that, the whole line of people broke out laughing. The kind man simply gave her a complaint card to fill out that could be sent to his supervisor.

I also read about a lady who was hurrying to get her cards out in the mail. She noticed some Christmas cards already on sale before Christmas and swooped up dozens of them. She mailed them out without reading the greeting. To her horror, she read after mailing them that the greeting was: "This card is just a note to say, a little gift is on the way!"

Three men were running through an airport in San Diego and knocked down the small apple stand that was being run by a boy in tattered clothes. Two men kept running to meet the plane and the third had the good sense to stop, help the boy stack the apples, buy two of them and leave him a nice tip. The boy looked at the face of this man who took the time to help and asked, "Are you Jesus?" The road to Bethlehem is hurried. The road from Bethlehem is slower and looks at faces instead of clocks. Those who take the different way home look divine. They are the ones who take time for things that have ultimate importance.

A boy in the first grade was asked, "What is a grandparent?" He answered, "Someone with time."

The road from Bethlehem reveals the sliver of the divine that is in all of us. Dr. F. Forrester Church, a Unitarian minister, said that "we can't see the divine in ourselves easily, so we have to recognize it in others." The gift of Jesus, he said, was this: "When we gazed into his eyes, we would see divine eyes, and we would see our own eyes. When we saw his tears, we would recognize our own. And when we saw the elegance of his actions, and the simplicity of his teachings, and the essence of his loving-kindness, we would recognize our own. And then we would be changed -- into that which we already were but had lost sight of until it was revealed to us!"

The best gift of this season could be the reminder that God has intended to give the world a gift through the uniqueness of your personality. The world is robbed of something precious and unique if you don't give your gift. Meister Eckhardt said, "Become aware of what is in you. Announce it, pronounce it, produce it, and give birth to it."

The road from Bethlehem reveals strength in weakness. Dr. Cornish Rogers is a teacher at the School of Theology in Claremont, California. I attended a spiritual life retreat that he conducted and found him to be a wonderful mentor of spiritual discipline. Not until long after that retreat did I find a new appreciation for his depth and his gift.

Dr. Rogers' son, David, is weak. At 29 years of age, a star graduate of Harvard Medical School, David came home for the holidays. While driving along a freeway in southern California, a tire flew off a semi-truck, bounced on top of David's car, and left him a paraplegic.

There is another David in this story. His name is David Kaplan. He was born mentally handicapped. He lived in a sheltered environment for fourteen years and developed skills for independent living. Two weak Davids got together to slay the giant of genetics and accident and work hand in hand together. David Rogers went on with his medical career thanks to David Kaplan. "David Kaplan is my hands. He does everything for me, from delivering and getting records to making phone calls ... He remembers the phone numbers of people I saw or spoke to months ago. He's invaluable." Two men taking weakness and turning it into a strength that medically serves hundreds of people.

The road from Bethlehem reveals strength within weakness.

The road to Bethlehem is harmless; the road from Bethlehem is explosive. A Roman Catholic priest was entering Israel with a group of nuns and lay people who were on a spiritual pilgrimage. If you have been there you know that there are soldiers everywhere and that they carry guns and have been on constant alert since the nation began in the late 1940s. The security guards at the airport brought out dogs to sniff for explosives. One dog centered in on a nun and spent an inordinate amount of time checking her out. It seems that she had some food in her purse. The guards were a little embarrassed. They said, "We must make sure there is nothing explosive here."

That's what we do with Bethlehem. We sniff it out and defuse it. We make sure there is nothing explosive there. And in fact, at Bethlehem we were entrusted with the most explosive message ever. The message is: "You can't earn God's love because God chooses to give it to us." The message of the manger is as explosive as a simple reading of Matthew 5 or Galatians 5 where we are told "for freedom Christ has set you free; never go back to slavery again." Yet, the Church has worked hard throughout history to take that which is given freely and put a toll gate in front of it. And yet the gospel goes off like a bomb to anyone who will appeal directly to that word of Good News.

How is the message diffused? How does such power become pabulum? A bishop asked that dangerous question to an actor once. The bishop inquired, "Why is it that we preachers usually make little impression with the lofty and true subjects that we proclaim, while you actors move people on the stage so much with your fiction?" The actor replied, "It is because we speak of fictitious things as though they were true, whereas the clergy talk about true things as though they were fictitious."

Something is explosive about Advent. Four weeks ago a fuse was lit and we have been waiting for detonation to occur. The story doesn't come through carved figures on a mantel. The story happens through flesh and blood -- God incarnate -- your Christ comes!

All this happens from taking a different road home. James Taylor wrote a popular and intriguing song about the Magi. The song is titled "Home By Another Way." In part it reads: Those magic men the Magi ...They went home by another wayMaybe we can be wise too ...And go home by another way

May we in this season go "home by another way," that we might be found by the One who is the way, the truth, and the life. Amen"

CSS Publishing, Lima, Ohio, Deep Joy For A Shallow World, by Richard A. Wing