This sermon was given on the 4th Sunday in Advent in 2009. Rather than use the Gospel texts for that day, I chose to use the OT passage from Micah. My supervisor rarely, if ever, preached from the OT and I was, perhaps, challenged by their Director of Spiritual Ministries to try it. That day was also the inevitable challenge from a member of the congregation arose.
2*But you, O Bethlehem of Ephrathah,
who are one of the little clans of Judah,
from you shall come forth for me
one who is to rule in Israel,
whose origin is from of old,
from ancient days.
3Therefore he shall give them up until the time
when she who is in labor has brought forth;
then the rest of his kindred shall return
to the people of Israel.
4And he shall stand and feed his flock in the strength of the Lord,
in the majesty of the name of the Lord his God.
And they shall live secure, for now he shall be great
to the ends of the earth;
5and he shall be the one of peace.
This is the word of the Lord. Thanks be to God.
Our scripture passage today from the prophet Micah is a window into hope for the Israelites during the time the Assyrians occupied their land. Micah, as many of the prophets did, spoke out about injustice and inequalities, about military aggression, about economic corruption and exploitation, about the vast social distance between the elite and the poor; things with which we’re all too aware of in this day and age. So what is his message of hope? What is God’s plan for His people? The one who is to come, the one who is to rule is also the one of peace.
Micah captures the humble origins of the one of peace. He will come from Bethlehem, a small town, a fairly insignificant place. Bethlehem today is still a small town, just as it was in the time of David. A village, really, a wide place in the road compared to the urban center that Jerusalem was. A small unassuming village just southwest of Jerusalem, King David was Bethlehem’s one claim to fame in Micah’s time.
The one of peace will come from a family of Bethlehem that is small but old; a family with a long lineage. This family goes back well before the time of Ruth. She married into the clan of Ephratha (remember Elimilech and Boaz?) and became David’s Great-grandmother. Micah writes this prophecy in the 8th century before the Common Era, 300 years or so AFTER the time of King David. David’s lineage, though still a favorite of the prophets and esteemed as a potential source for great rulers, is now lost in time and political struggle.
Micah’s image of the one who is to come, the one of peace, is not one who comes from wealth or power. He will not be wealthy. He will not be from the upper class. He will not be a political or military leader. Micah tells us his family is little, small, even insignificant now. Yet the one of peace is old Micah says. He is from ancient days. He is a legacy from God.
Like a mother experiencing birth pangs, our wait for the one of peace will not last forever. The trials and tribulations Israel is to experience will end when his mother bears him. He is small, just an infant. As he grows, he will live into his family’s legacy and will learn what it is to be unnoticed, what it is to be unrecognized, what it is to be insignificant. This legacy is the gift he brings, a gift that allows him to lift up those who feel unnoticed, who feel unrecognized, and who feel insignificant.
He will be for God, this shepherd of his people, He will guide them in the word and wisdom of God. Those who are oppressed and demoralized, those who feel unnoticed and insignificant will discover through him their joy. They will find in him the strength of God for he knows and shares that all are part of God’s family. He will feed them in the strength of the Lord, teaching them the way of peace as a way of life.
But how can this be? A shepherd? Really? I don’t know about you but shepherds have been highly romanticized at this time of year. You do know they live outside most of the time, they sleep with their sheep, and they’re dirty and smelly. They’re probably not very well educated either, and I’m not sure I’d want to be taking advice from one.
And yet…God will choose the least likely, God will choose the littlest to accomplish God’s purposes. There are plenty of examples where God has done exactly that. Gideon thought he wasn’t worthy because he was the youngest of a very weak clan. Deborah became a great leader and judge among the Israelites. Saul came from the least tribe in Israel. Jeremiah was just a boy. Sarah was barren and laughed at God when told she
would have a child in her old age. Ezekiel and Daniel were exiles. Esther became more than just a pretty face. Amos was a shepherd. Mary was there to simply, but faithfully say, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” And David? Well, King David was the youngest of his brothers AND he tended his father’s
sheep. So I guess I will be taking advice from a shepherd after all!
And then there’s our hymn today, O Little Town of Bethlehem. It was inspired by today’s scripture passage from Micah, and comes from men who needed the Spirit’s inspiration. The Rev. Phillips Brooks traveled to the Holy Land during the Christmas season of 1865. Now I have to tell you that my sources say he wasn’t exactly a wonderful preacher but he spoke from his heart. On Christmas Eve, he attended a service at the Church of the Nativity in the tiny, little village that was Bethlehem. He was deeply moved by his surroundings, the liturgy, and the music, and in 1868, he was inspired to write these stanzas for the children in his church in Philadelphia to sing at their Christmas Eve service. Pastor Brooks asked his organist, Lewis, to set these words to music but Lewis just couldn’t seem to find the notes within himself. And then, on the
night before Christmas Eve, it came to Lewis, welling up in his soul as he slept. Inspired by the spirit, both men gave us a gift that lifts up God’s greatest gift to us, a little child born in humble surroundings, who yet was called Immanuel.
I’m wondering if our children are more open to finding the least likely among us. To find the inspiration that comes from the least of us. Especially at this time of year with stories like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, Elf, The Island of Misfit Toys, and Cindy LouWho who changed the Grinch’s heart. Being a fabulous grandma, I watched Wall*e with my granddaughter TWICE yesterday. And I’m always amazed at how “children’s movies” work on an adult level, too. Wall*e, a collector of stuff, dented and dusty, a lonely, homely little droid can be called into service. How could anyone have thought he would to be the one chosen to help bring humanity back to recover an earth that was thought to be uninhabitable.
But let me tell you about another one who spoke for peace. A child who was chosen – Sadako Sasaki:
Sadako was born in 1943 in a town called Hiroshima. In 1945, the U.S. dropped an atom bomb on Hiroshima when she was only 2 years old. She and her family survived because they lived a mile from the center. But 10 years later, when she was only 13, Sadako succumbed to “the atom bomb disease,” radiation-induced leukemia. While Sadako was one of many who suffered the after-effects of the bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945, she is the one whose courage inspired generations of young people. Because of her, many know about the peace crane, an origami bird that she began folding when she became ill.
Japanese myth has it that cranes live for a thousand years, and anyone who folds 1000 paper cranes will have a wish granted. So during her illness, Sadako folded paper cranes, and with each crane she wished that she would recover from her illness. She folded 644 cranes before she died. Sadako’s classmates folded 356 more cranes so that she could be buried with a thousand paper cranes. A monument erected in Sadako’s memory in Hiroshima’s Peace Park. The inscription reads:
This is our cry,
This is our prayer,
Peace in the world.
There is also a memorial to her in Seattle’s Peace Park. Each year people place paper cranes at the base of both statues to recall the tragedy of war and to celebrate humanity’s undying hope for peace. In some places around the world, people fold paper cranes each holiday season to use as decorations and as a symbol of their deep desire for lasting peace.
One of Sadako’s last gifts to the world is one of her last origami cranes. It now resides in a new memorial thousands of miles away from where she lived, in the country that dropped the bomb. It was given to the Tribute WTC Visitor Center in New York by her aging brother, Masahiro. “I thought if Sadako’s crane is placed at Ground Zero, it will be very meaningful,” he said. “…in Japan, the crane is regarded as a symbol of peace. But for us…it is the embodiment of Sadako’s life, and it is filled with her wish and hope. I hope by talking about that small wish for peace, the small ripple will become bigger and bigger.”
Masahiro wisely says, “As a victim of war or a victim of terrorism, we share the same grief, and share the sense of duty to tell the stories to our children and our children’s children. Although the incidents were different, I hope we can help each other work for world peace from now on.”
For over two millennia, we have struggled with what it means to live actively in Christ’s
teachings. More often than not, we fail. Peace eludes us on so many levels. But to our credit, we people are just plain stubborn and we don’t give up. We return to the humble source, to the shepherd of peace to learn, to rediscover, to transform ourselves and our communities. Perhaps one day, we will see what Micah saw—the world living in the peace of the little one, the shepherd born in Bethlehem.
Let us pray:
Gracious and merciful God, as we await the birth of the little one from Bethlehem, help us to know peace within us. Let that knowledge grow and feed us so that the way of peace can take root and grow in all of us. We ask this in the name of the little one from Bethlehem. Amen.
God's Bakery 