Did They Count The King?
Sermon
Here Comes The King
Sermons And Children's Lessons For Advent, Christmas And Epiphany
Midnight Service
In some reflections which Dr. Robert Hughes gave at his inauguration as president of the Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia, in 1991, he told about a painting which hangs in the family room of his home. It had caught the eye of his wife, Dona, during a trip to the Pennsylvania Dutch country west of Philadelphia. J. G. McGill of Chester County was the artist, and his painting was of a one-room school building. I wondered if it could have been the one-room school in which my wife had taught for half a year when we were in our first parish in Chester County. At any rate, Hughes describes the painting this way, which they bought because it has a "haunting quality" about it: "In the left foreground McGill has painted a smiling white haired man leaning on his walking stick staring at the school, its windows broken and boarded, its porch sagging. Move closer and the eye follows the elderly man's line of sight to a dilapidated outhouse, door hanging askew. Keep following the direction of his eyes and shadowy figures emerge in the schoolyard, apparitions, ghostly children playing. The specters are jumping rope, playing leapfrog and tag, shooting marbles, having a wonderful time. The painting is titled Recess Remembered." Hughes proceeded "to lean on my walking stick" and share his perspective on Mount Airy Philadelphia Seminary.
All of us have a picture of that first Christmas, colored perhaps by our own experiences. Annually, we participate in a "Christmas Remembered," and, sometimes, as we hear the words of the familiar story and "see" the picture in our minds once more, we not only remember, but we also may "see" something we haven't seen before. That portrait of Christmas is colored by Christmas dramas, by Christmas creches, by family customs and traditions, by Christmas stories, and by the Christmas worship services and carols sung in our churches. All of these elements and experiences make Christmas special.
I remember one Christmas when my wife, Doris, and I were engaged to be married. Her family always traveled from northeastern Pennsylvania to Teaneck, New Jersey, to spend Christmas with her aunt's family, her grandmother and other relatives. It was something of an annual family reunion - the Swedish side of the family - and I was invited for Christmas Eve. It was a warm and lovely affair, topped off with attendance at the midnight worship of a local congregation, which was really the "Christ Mass" - communion was celebrated and served - and for the first time in my life I realized that Christmas, as a celebration of Jesus' birth, is most fully Christmas when the eucharist is the order of worship at the midnight and the other services of Christmas. Now, as I reflect, I can think of my experience alongside of that of the Spanish nun, Etheria, who described the three services of Christmas - each with the eucharist as the vehicle of celebration - that had developed in Jerusalem by the fourth century. Jesus' birth was clearly connected to his death on the cross and the empty tomb of his resurrection, and this deepens and protects the meaning of Christmas. Christmas would be nothing more than a sentimental exercise were it not for the cross and the resurrection. So Jean Burden wrote some years ago:
Because the cross
became a tree;
because the rock
became a door;
we celebrate
return to birth;
we kneel upon
the humble floor.
She envisions a Christmas star that shines for all of us:
For this our shepherds
sing their hymns;
for this our Wise Men
travel far;
because the cross
became a tree;
because the stone
became a star.14
This year, I wondered about the "Christmas census" that was taken in Bethlehem at the time of Jesus' birth. Did they count the baby Jesus in Caesar's census, or was he missed in the process? The story does not say, does it, and, anyway, is there any significance in such a thought? Was he too unimportant, too insignificant - after all, he was born in a manger, not in king's palace or an ordinary home - to be counted?
In July of 1991, this story began on the front page of the Minneapolis Star Tribune: " '90 census won't be altered to include "missing" 5.3 million.' " It seems that the Census Bureau has discovered, through scientific statistical evidence, that some 5,300,000 persons were not "counted" in the 1990 census. They wanted to adjust the figures by adding 5,300,000 persons to the 248,700,000 total, but the Commerce Secretary, Robert Mosbacher overruled the Census Bureau and declared that the 248,700,000 figure would stand. At least 5,300,000 people were never counted when the census was taken; officially, they don't really exist.
Secretary Mosbacher has received criticism from various segments of society, especially the politicians and spokespersons for minority groups. Politicians objected because the higher figure would have financial and political ramifications for the country. The politicians perceived that an upward adjustment in the census count would mean that some states would lose seats in Congress, and that many of the cities would suffer a reduction in their political influence and power bases. The minorities are aware that an adjustment would mean more money for social programs. Arturo Vargas, spokesman for the Mexican-American Legal Defense and Education Fund in Los Angeles, said: "The only way I can explain this decision is as part of the Bush administration's attitude toward minorities in the United States. The Bush administration is saying that minorities don't count as much as other Americans. To look at these figures and say 'tough luck' is really callous."5 Minorities make up the largest part of those not counted in the census. Some 5,300,000 unimportant people were not counted in the 1990 census.
Much has been made of the fact that there was no room for Mary and Joseph and the birth of the baby Jesus in the inn at Bethlehem, but little or nothing has been said about the census and whether Jesus was counted. Were Joseph and Mary "enrolled" before the birth of Jesus, or after his birth, so that he would be included in the Roman Census? Was he important enough to be counted? Inasmuch as the Roman census probably had only one objective in Judea - taxation (Jews were exempt from military service, which was the second reason for the census in other countries) - it might have been necessary for Joseph to declare him after his birth. But the question remains, was he important enough to have been counted? Was he officially listed as a living person, a citizen of Bethlehem in Judea? Was his birth recorded in Bethlehem?
O little town of Bethlehem,
How still we see thee lie;
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by;
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting light.
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee tonight.16
That's saying a lot about the birth of a baby, isn't it - even if he is supposed to be the King of kings and the Son of God?
Now, this we know - that Jesus' birth was recorded in heaven itself. The heavenly host announced that birth and placed his name on God's records. The Romans might have missed him, but the record of his birth was announced by the angelic chorus, declaring that something of eternal significance for all the world, all people, occurred when Jesus was born in Bethlehem. One angel - could it have been Gabriel? - put it this way to the shepherds: "Be not afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of a great joy which will come to all the people; for to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find a babe wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger." Not only did the "census in heaven" record his name, it listed his name above the names of all other people born on the earth, and also announced it to the world. Jesus, as a child, is the one who holds the destiny of all people in his hands. Indeed, "the hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight."
And this much we also know for certain as we celebrate Christmas once again: The incarnation tells us that we really matter to God. We are important enough for God to cause the birth of Jesus Christ to occur in Bethlehem - "good news of a great joy which will come to all the people." This is the content and eternal significance of Jesus' birth, which renews our hearts and minds and souls this night and as long as we live. He is our king, truly the King of kings, who sits on a throne that God the Father has given him. The depth of God's love is demonstrated in Jesus' death on Calvary's cross, where Jesus died to reconcile the whole world - all people - to God. Christmas reminds us that Pilate made one mistake when he pronounced the sentence of death upon Jesus; he ordered that the sign nailed to the cross should read, "The King of the Jews." It should have read, "This is the King of kings," or "The King of the World." And maybe if his birth had been recorded in the census, as dictated by the angel (there are still records of the censuses taken by the Romans from right after Jesus was born until almost the fourth century, 20 A.D. to 270 A.D.), it would have read that way. You see, 5,300,000 people might have been "missed" in the 1990 census in the United States of America - not "important" enough to be counted, or to change the "count" - but no one has been "missed" by God. We all matter to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, and he counts us citizens of his kingdom!
So, the question that surfaces at Christmas is this: How important is Jesus to the world today? How important is he to you and me? Do we "count" him the way the angel did - a Savior, our Savior, our Lord, our King - and if we do, does this have any implications for our faith and our lives? Or is the birth of Jesus just a lovely event to be remembered and celebrated because it makes this season "the loveliest time of the year?" In other words, does Jesus "count" - really matter - to us? That's more important than the speculation that Jesus might, or might not, have been counted in the Roman census when he was born. Our eternal destinies depend upon his importance to us.
"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among (people) with whom he is pleased." Jesus is born, and he is King and Lord at his birth. This is our "Christmas Remembered."
In some reflections which Dr. Robert Hughes gave at his inauguration as president of the Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia, in 1991, he told about a painting which hangs in the family room of his home. It had caught the eye of his wife, Dona, during a trip to the Pennsylvania Dutch country west of Philadelphia. J. G. McGill of Chester County was the artist, and his painting was of a one-room school building. I wondered if it could have been the one-room school in which my wife had taught for half a year when we were in our first parish in Chester County. At any rate, Hughes describes the painting this way, which they bought because it has a "haunting quality" about it: "In the left foreground McGill has painted a smiling white haired man leaning on his walking stick staring at the school, its windows broken and boarded, its porch sagging. Move closer and the eye follows the elderly man's line of sight to a dilapidated outhouse, door hanging askew. Keep following the direction of his eyes and shadowy figures emerge in the schoolyard, apparitions, ghostly children playing. The specters are jumping rope, playing leapfrog and tag, shooting marbles, having a wonderful time. The painting is titled Recess Remembered." Hughes proceeded "to lean on my walking stick" and share his perspective on Mount Airy Philadelphia Seminary.
All of us have a picture of that first Christmas, colored perhaps by our own experiences. Annually, we participate in a "Christmas Remembered," and, sometimes, as we hear the words of the familiar story and "see" the picture in our minds once more, we not only remember, but we also may "see" something we haven't seen before. That portrait of Christmas is colored by Christmas dramas, by Christmas creches, by family customs and traditions, by Christmas stories, and by the Christmas worship services and carols sung in our churches. All of these elements and experiences make Christmas special.
I remember one Christmas when my wife, Doris, and I were engaged to be married. Her family always traveled from northeastern Pennsylvania to Teaneck, New Jersey, to spend Christmas with her aunt's family, her grandmother and other relatives. It was something of an annual family reunion - the Swedish side of the family - and I was invited for Christmas Eve. It was a warm and lovely affair, topped off with attendance at the midnight worship of a local congregation, which was really the "Christ Mass" - communion was celebrated and served - and for the first time in my life I realized that Christmas, as a celebration of Jesus' birth, is most fully Christmas when the eucharist is the order of worship at the midnight and the other services of Christmas. Now, as I reflect, I can think of my experience alongside of that of the Spanish nun, Etheria, who described the three services of Christmas - each with the eucharist as the vehicle of celebration - that had developed in Jerusalem by the fourth century. Jesus' birth was clearly connected to his death on the cross and the empty tomb of his resurrection, and this deepens and protects the meaning of Christmas. Christmas would be nothing more than a sentimental exercise were it not for the cross and the resurrection. So Jean Burden wrote some years ago:
Because the cross
became a tree;
because the rock
became a door;
we celebrate
return to birth;
we kneel upon
the humble floor.
She envisions a Christmas star that shines for all of us:
For this our shepherds
sing their hymns;
for this our Wise Men
travel far;
because the cross
became a tree;
because the stone
became a star.14
This year, I wondered about the "Christmas census" that was taken in Bethlehem at the time of Jesus' birth. Did they count the baby Jesus in Caesar's census, or was he missed in the process? The story does not say, does it, and, anyway, is there any significance in such a thought? Was he too unimportant, too insignificant - after all, he was born in a manger, not in king's palace or an ordinary home - to be counted?
In July of 1991, this story began on the front page of the Minneapolis Star Tribune: " '90 census won't be altered to include "missing" 5.3 million.' " It seems that the Census Bureau has discovered, through scientific statistical evidence, that some 5,300,000 persons were not "counted" in the 1990 census. They wanted to adjust the figures by adding 5,300,000 persons to the 248,700,000 total, but the Commerce Secretary, Robert Mosbacher overruled the Census Bureau and declared that the 248,700,000 figure would stand. At least 5,300,000 people were never counted when the census was taken; officially, they don't really exist.
Secretary Mosbacher has received criticism from various segments of society, especially the politicians and spokespersons for minority groups. Politicians objected because the higher figure would have financial and political ramifications for the country. The politicians perceived that an upward adjustment in the census count would mean that some states would lose seats in Congress, and that many of the cities would suffer a reduction in their political influence and power bases. The minorities are aware that an adjustment would mean more money for social programs. Arturo Vargas, spokesman for the Mexican-American Legal Defense and Education Fund in Los Angeles, said: "The only way I can explain this decision is as part of the Bush administration's attitude toward minorities in the United States. The Bush administration is saying that minorities don't count as much as other Americans. To look at these figures and say 'tough luck' is really callous."5 Minorities make up the largest part of those not counted in the census. Some 5,300,000 unimportant people were not counted in the 1990 census.
Much has been made of the fact that there was no room for Mary and Joseph and the birth of the baby Jesus in the inn at Bethlehem, but little or nothing has been said about the census and whether Jesus was counted. Were Joseph and Mary "enrolled" before the birth of Jesus, or after his birth, so that he would be included in the Roman Census? Was he important enough to be counted? Inasmuch as the Roman census probably had only one objective in Judea - taxation (Jews were exempt from military service, which was the second reason for the census in other countries) - it might have been necessary for Joseph to declare him after his birth. But the question remains, was he important enough to have been counted? Was he officially listed as a living person, a citizen of Bethlehem in Judea? Was his birth recorded in Bethlehem?
O little town of Bethlehem,
How still we see thee lie;
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by;
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting light.
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee tonight.16
That's saying a lot about the birth of a baby, isn't it - even if he is supposed to be the King of kings and the Son of God?
Now, this we know - that Jesus' birth was recorded in heaven itself. The heavenly host announced that birth and placed his name on God's records. The Romans might have missed him, but the record of his birth was announced by the angelic chorus, declaring that something of eternal significance for all the world, all people, occurred when Jesus was born in Bethlehem. One angel - could it have been Gabriel? - put it this way to the shepherds: "Be not afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of a great joy which will come to all the people; for to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find a babe wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger." Not only did the "census in heaven" record his name, it listed his name above the names of all other people born on the earth, and also announced it to the world. Jesus, as a child, is the one who holds the destiny of all people in his hands. Indeed, "the hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight."
And this much we also know for certain as we celebrate Christmas once again: The incarnation tells us that we really matter to God. We are important enough for God to cause the birth of Jesus Christ to occur in Bethlehem - "good news of a great joy which will come to all the people." This is the content and eternal significance of Jesus' birth, which renews our hearts and minds and souls this night and as long as we live. He is our king, truly the King of kings, who sits on a throne that God the Father has given him. The depth of God's love is demonstrated in Jesus' death on Calvary's cross, where Jesus died to reconcile the whole world - all people - to God. Christmas reminds us that Pilate made one mistake when he pronounced the sentence of death upon Jesus; he ordered that the sign nailed to the cross should read, "The King of the Jews." It should have read, "This is the King of kings," or "The King of the World." And maybe if his birth had been recorded in the census, as dictated by the angel (there are still records of the censuses taken by the Romans from right after Jesus was born until almost the fourth century, 20 A.D. to 270 A.D.), it would have read that way. You see, 5,300,000 people might have been "missed" in the 1990 census in the United States of America - not "important" enough to be counted, or to change the "count" - but no one has been "missed" by God. We all matter to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, and he counts us citizens of his kingdom!
So, the question that surfaces at Christmas is this: How important is Jesus to the world today? How important is he to you and me? Do we "count" him the way the angel did - a Savior, our Savior, our Lord, our King - and if we do, does this have any implications for our faith and our lives? Or is the birth of Jesus just a lovely event to be remembered and celebrated because it makes this season "the loveliest time of the year?" In other words, does Jesus "count" - really matter - to us? That's more important than the speculation that Jesus might, or might not, have been counted in the Roman census when he was born. Our eternal destinies depend upon his importance to us.
"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among (people) with whom he is pleased." Jesus is born, and he is King and Lord at his birth. This is our "Christmas Remembered."
