Children are great! Their perspectives on life help us see the world in a different light. It's fun to look at the world through a child's eyes. A teacher once asked her Sunday School class to draw a picture in response to the story in Matthew 2 where Joseph, Mary and Jesus escape from the clutches of evil Herod and live in Egypt. Child after child turned in a picture of Mary holding baby Jesus, seated on a camel, with Joseph walking alongside, palm trees swaying in the wind. Then she came to the one boy (and there is one in every crowd with a flair for the dramatic.) He held up his picture, but instead of a camel he had a 707 jet with four faces looking out the windows. "What can you tell me about this?" the teacher asked. "Its the flight into Egypt," the boy responded. "Then who are these four people?" "This is Joseph, Mary and Jesus." "What about this fourth person?" "Oh, that's Pontius the pilot." Leave it to a kid to see the story in a whole different light. It is that freshness which we as adults so often lack. This is especially true when we come to that which is familiar. You may recall that some time after Jesus’s birth, perhaps a year or two later, the wise men from the east appear before Herod’s throne inquiring as to the birth of a new king. Herod’s jealous protection of his throne is well documented not only in Scripture, but other writers as well. Herod murdered several of his own children, some while still young, for he feared they would take his life. Now with the inquiry by the Magi, Herod became agitated, desiring to know the details of this new King; Herod wanted this interloper dead. In Matthew 2:13 an angel warns Joseph to flee to Egypt, where over a million Jews lived and they could be well hid. Verses 14-15 say that in response to the magi’s escape and being unable to identify the infant king, Herod’s fury is directed toward those in Bethlehem as he orders the deaths of all boys two and under in a futile hope to kill the Messiah. The theme “Christ is King” is the heart of Matthew's gospel. That may not seem revolutionary, but what kind of King He is will shatter your preconceptions. He is King in ways we would not picture. In order to shake us from our complacency, Matthew paints a picture of a king that is far different. The Kingly nature of Christ is spelled out from the start with a genealogy which shows Jesus's pedigree from Abraham, to David and thru the royal line to Joseph and then his adopted son, Jesus. His sovereign nature is spelled out again as He is born of a virgin as the savior of His people. But what throws us off is that this King is also the descendent of some rather unsavory fellows who are best known for being liars, murderers and whores, not the kind of pedigree most of us would consider exemplary. In chapter 2 His imperial status is made more clear by the Magi's worship. Those from other lands come to worship Him, but the wise and learned from His own country, who know the prophecies, refuse to act on that which they know. As we saw last week the place of His birth speaks against it being the place which would produce a king, for it is more associated with sorrow and bitterness than it is with triumph and power. The power of Jesus as King is again painted in a peculiar fashion in the events of Christ’s flight to Egypt, for there we see His special stature summarized by a vague reference to on obscure Old Testament passage. Throughout Advent we’ve examined several of the Old Testament passages which predicted Jesus’s birth. We looked at Isaiah’s sign from God that a virgin will conceive and give birth to God With Us. In Isaiah 9 He brings light where there is darkness. His character is likewise predicted in the Old Testament as a wonderful counselor, mighty God, everlasting Father, and prince of peace. The town was specified as Bethlehem in Micah 5:2. This morning we’ll see from Hosea 11 how this King relates to us. 1. "When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son. 2. But the more I called Israel, the further they went from me. They sacrificed to the Baals and they burned incense to images. 3. It was I who taught Ephraim to walk, taking them by the arms; but they did not realize it was I who healed them. 4. I led them with cords of human kindness, with ties of love; I lifted the yoke from their neck and bent down to feed them. 5. "Will they not return to Egypt and will not Assyria rule over them because they refuse to repent? 6. Swords will flash in their cities, will destroy the bars of their gates and put an end to their plans. 7. My people are determined to turn from me. Even if they call to the Most High, he will by no means exalt them. 8. "How can I give you up, Ephraim? How can I hand you over, Israel? How can I treat you like Admah? How can I make you like Zeboiim? My heart is changed within me; all my compassion is aroused. 9. I will not carry out my fierce anger, nor will I turn and devastate Ephraim. For I am God, and not man-- the Holy One among you. I will not come in wrath. 10. They will follow the LORD; he will roar like a lion. When he roars, his children will come trembling from the west. 11. They will come trembling like birds from Egypt, like doves from Assyria. I will settle them in their homes," declares the LORD. We’ll get to Matthew 2 at the end, but if we are going to understand what that story is about, we first have to grapple with the background. Matthew seems to assume our knowledge of Hosea 11 when he quickly refers to it. GOD COMES TO US AS A FATHER He is an inviting Father. The image of God’s care stretches back to when Israel was in Egypt. It is not just that He happened to find His child in Egypt, as though Egypt is a neutral place. In the Old Testament, Egypt would be likened to an Auschwitz as it pictures slavery and the horror of being forgotten by God. In Deuteronomy 7:7-11 God clarifies why He did what He did. God loves because He decided to love. A friend of mine years ago confided his initial reaction when his daughter was born. As the nurse handed her to him and he looked down at her gray splotchy face and her wrinkled skin and tightly clenched eyes, his immediate response was, “You are one ugly baby.” But his love never faltered. He loved her because he loves. In the same way Paul, in Ephesians 2, says that while we were dead in our sins, God made us alive. Apart from Christ we were dead and decaying. There was nothing in us to make us desirable. It is out of that condition God called us. There was nothing in us to make us pleasing to God. His love for us begins not in our loveliness, but in His good pleasure for us. He is an involved Father. The picture is wonderful, like a dad with a toddler, holding up the arms, giving the child the needed balance and support: God is the one who teaches His people to walk. What is hard for us is that God’s involvement with us far exceeds our memory of it. How many remember taking your first step? You may have a picture of it somewhere, but we don’t recall it. What is described here has been replicated in various sentimental forms over the years as the poem “Footprints in the Sand.” It explains the truth that when we look back at our life knowing that God was with us, but as we see the tough times find a solitary set of tracks, it is not that God had left us, but instead He carried us along. The metaphor is then switched from a father with his toddler, to special care given to an animal (verse 4). The leash God uses to take us where we should go is not a harsh choker chain. When we got Misha years ago, I recall looking at a variety of leashes, one was designed for the most obstinate of animals. On the inside of the chain were curved spikes which would, when pulled thrust the metal points into the dog's tender neck. That’s one way to get the dog to behave. But that is not how God works with us; He leads us with a leash of human kindness, with love. God cares for us in ways we can hardly imagine. He is not oppressive, demanding more than we are able to bear. Although He is the omnipotent Almighty, He remembers how He formed us, that we are able to bear only so much. IN OUR REBELLION WE REJECT GOD’S AUTHORITY We refuse to listen (verse 2). You’ve seen the two year old with the gleam in his eye when Mom is ready to go out the door after church. What does the kid do? He heads in the opposite direction. That is how it is with us. God calls and we run the other way. This is a great picture of how God’s effectual calling works in our lives. God’s calling never fails, but we so often run the other way. We may know what is right, but since our heart is an idol factory, we’ll turn out so many other, more pleasing gods to worship. Perhaps the reason is we become inoculated with the gospel. It seems we’ve heard it all before - same story different verse. After awhile it just gets a little old. “Okay, I’ve got the grace part, now tell me how I can make God happy?” You want to know what you can do. And if God will not give you something to do, you’ll find it on your own. Familiarity breeds contempt and success conceit. The patient love of God soon appears a weakness. We refuse to remember (verse3b). Although God is seen as the Father absorbed in coaxing and supporting the child’s first staggering steps, picking him up when he trips over his clumsy feet, and carrying him when he tires, that same child will not remember the help. Like an aloof and scornful adolescent we forget or never realize - or simply don’t want to know - what we owe to this relationship. “I can do it without you!” We return to sin (verses 5-7). With a certain degree of cynicism we fall into the trap of thinking, “God is in the business of forgiving and I’m pretty good at sinning; this is a great relationship.” So we fall right back into the sinful patterns that God took us from. Down through the centuries the chief objection to justification by faith alone, through grace alone in Christ alone is that it makes it so easy for people to return to sin. When we lose the power of guilt over people, they may not toe the line. If we make God too gracious, we may sin too much. God has that same problem as well. The problem lies not in the truth of the gospel, but in the power of sin in our lives. Proverbs describes our plight in the picturesque language of the pig who jumps back into the mud hole and the dog who laps up his vomit. Don’t forget the context here: God is talking about His people, those whom He calls and will make His own. What are they like? There is a bent, a proclivity to sin. Just like the sunflower during the summer follows the path of the sun, so that by the end of the day, it is bent over toward the horizon where the sun was last seen, so we follow sin so well. There is a determination in each of us to sin. We can not extinguish it; only death will do that. It is for that reason that in our repentance we ought to lament not only our backslidings, but our bent to backslide, not only our actual transgressions, but our original corruption, the sin that dwells in us, the carnal mind. The biggest problem we face is not just the multitude of sins we commit, but more basic than the problem of our sins is our sin. But we are always adverse to repentance and reformation. Let’s face it, we are quite comfortable with our sin. PROBLEM: GOD MUST DEAL WITH JUSTICE AND MERCY (Verses 6-8) There is a penalty: Destruction of cities; this was fulfilled in captivity as the Israelites were carted off first by the Assyrians and then to Babylon, and a deaf God; Even if God’s people call, He will not exalt them, not quickly come to their aid. There is a problem. How far will God go? God can not tolerate sin. He will deal with it. The dilemma is between what God’s justice demands and what His mercy desires. Should God treat us like Admah and Zeboiim? What are they? These were two cities of the plains which were destroyed when Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed. The immediate answer to the question is “Yes!” Justice demands punishment; but mercy pleads for life. Justice resolves to destroy, and mercy to save. But how can both be maintained? If we think one must be victorious over the other, if we think mercy is greater than justice, then the God we worship ceases to be God. When goodness denies righteousness you always have neither. No, there is a means by which both may be maintained. For us we haven’t a clue as to how to handle the problem. It's like the mother who had had a particularly trying day with her young son. Finally she flung up her hands and shouted, "All right, Billy. Do anything you please! Now let me see you disobey THAT!" But God is not like that; there is a solution so that justice and mercy are kept together. But the answer is not what we expect. ANSWER: GOD CHANGES (Verses 8b-9) How can God change? His heart changes when His compassion is aroused. He decides not to carry out His anger and turns away from destroying us, from doing what we deserve. We call that an anthropopathism, a six dollar word which means we describe God by our own emotions. We can only comprehend God within our context. But those terms are always lacking. So God’s passion will never overpower His compassion. He is not driven by anger, but will find a way to do that which He has promised. But how can He do that? If we really mean that God changes, then He ceases to be God, by definition of an all powerful, all knowing being. The answer of what it means that God changes is found in verse 9. His changing is not like our changing. We are changed by outside forces which cause us to vacilate between deciding between pizza and Chinese food for lunch. God is not like you or me. His change comes by way of His own character. God has a way to spare and pardon poor sinners without any reproach to His holiness. Instead, He can be faithful to His own righteous character and still forgive sins because of the final clause in verse 9: the Holy One among you. This takes us back to Matthew 2. Christ becomes the child God loved. Why are we loved by God so much? What is there that would enable God to maintain His justice and mercy? The answer is found in what Christ did for us. God loves us because He loves His son. Christ is the Holy One among us. God’s wrath and mercy come together in Christ. When Christ was sent to Egypt and then called out, it was not just as a way to symbolize His solidarity with us, but rather it was so that Christ would be the Son we can never be. He will be called out and never return. But not only that, He will be called out so that the Father’s wrathful justice would be placed on Him. For Matthew the flight into Egypt illustrates what it means that Jesus is our Savior. What changes God’s heart, what arouses His compassion so that he will not carry out His fierce anger out on us is because His justice finds its victim in His own Son. We shutter with horror at Herod’s rage in the slaughter of the children, but that is what you and I deserve. But we have a Father who has provided a means of acceptance - that is by the death of His own Son. Do you remember playing with a magnifying glass as a kid and you discovered the power of that curved piece of glass? On a warm, clear summer’s day, laying on the blacktop, you arranged a small pile of leaves and began to adjust the focus until the light converged on the leaves so they began to smolder and then burst into flames. Somehow that glass lens was able to gather the heat from all the rays of sunlight striking its surface, and direct this combined, sizzling intensity to that one spot. Now picture the world, a globe covered with billions of people. And above it, like rays from the sun, the blinding intensity of the righteous judgment and wrath of God bearing down upon the human race. Then imagine a great cosmic magnifying glass, as wide as the world, placed in between, gathering all of that intensity of burning wrath and focusing it on one spot, on one individual, on Jesus, nailed to the Cross. In being the one called out of Egypt, He was the one who was filled up with our sin, so that the white hot wrath of an infinitely holy God would bear down on Him. Wrath that should have fallen on you and me was all focused on Him! He who became our sin, became the object of the wrath we deserved. This was the ultimate sacrifice of God's love for us. That is what aroused God’s compassion. God says all this is not comprehensible to us but then it wasn't meant to be for us to understand: "I am God, and not man -- the Holy One among you. I will not come in wrath." (verse 9) Rather, God has come in love...through the supreme sacrifice of His Son Jesus Christ. Is it any wonder we should sing out, not just at Christmas time, but throughout the year, "Joy to the World, the Lord is come." Source for Magnifiying Glass Illustration, Close To His Majesty,
(Multnomah Press, Portland, Oregon, 1987) |
