A Person of Love

Preached by Michael Cheuk
December 23, 2007, Fourth Sunday of Advent
Matthew 1:18-25; Isaiah 7:10-16

Here we are on the fourth and final Sunday of Advent, just two days away from Christmas. Throughout this Advent season, we’ve followed the lectionary texts from the Old Testament book of Isaiah as we journeyed with our spiritual ancestors in their longing and waiting for a place of peace, a provision of hope and a promise of joy in the coming of the Messiah. But this morning, we will turn our attention to our Gospel lesson taken from Matthew. This story is one of the few passages in the Gospels that is devoted to Joseph, who, as Matthew was careful to point out in his genealogy, was a direct descendant of David and Abraham.

Matthew tells the story of how the birth of Jesus Christ came about. His mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph. Now, in those days, being pledged to be married, or being engaged, was a serious, legal matter. Back then, parents arranged the marriages of their children, and they were often pledged to be married at a very young age. Being pledged to be married wasn’t the same thing as our modern-day engagements. For us, if something goes wrong during the engagement period, the couple can just call the whole thing off. But back in Bible times, an engagement required signing legal papers which made the couple as good as married in the eyes of the law. And breaking off an engagement required a certificate of divorce. Therefore, even if the engaged man somehow died before the wedding ceremony, the woman was legally considered a “widow.” And if, during this betrothal time, the woman had an affair with another man, that act would be considered adultery.

Engagements were a serious, legally binding matter, and Matthew wastes no time to let us know that this engagement of Mary and Joseph was in deep trouble. For you see, before Joseph and Mary ever had a honeymoon, Mary got pregnant. Sure, Matthew tells us that “Mary was found to be with child through the Holy Spirit,” but Joseph didn’t know that. Besides, I doubt the answer, “the Holy Spirit did it,” would have been on the “Top Ten” list of reasons explaining an out-of-wedlock pregnancy, even back in Matthew’s day! No one would blame Joseph for concluding that Mary had been unfaithful to him. In the midst of this scandal, Joseph was faced with this dilemma: “What to do now?”

A Promise of Joy

Preached by Michael Cheuk
December 16, 2007, Third Sunday of Advent
Isaiah 35:1-10

Every summer while she was growing up, Beth went to stay with her grandparents in the Texas panhandle, up near Amarillo and almost in New Mexico.  It’s very dry country over there, and parts of it even are classified as arid, or desert-like.  That’s the case with the Palo Duro Canyon, the second-largest canyon in the United States, which is also located near Amarillo.  Beth and her grandparents would go to the canyon periodically to see the sites or to see an outdoor musical about Texas’s history that the park service stages on the canyon floor.  The people who run the musical don’t have to worry much about rain cancellations, because, as I said, the canyon is a desert!

But this summer, while Virginia wilted in a drought, the Texas panhandle got rain, lots and lots of rain.  In July, Beth and her dad took our kids on a driving tour around Texas, stopping to see family and friends.   When they were near Amarillo, Beth wanted to take the kids to see the sites she remembered as a kid, so she took them to the canyon to go on a trail ride and see the musical.  But the canyon was not as she remembered it – all those rains had turned the arid wilderness into a lush garden.  Instead of bare rock, there was a carpet of green, peppered with colorful wildflowers.  All those seeds that had lain dormant for years, maybe decades, suddenly burst into bloom as the rains that they had been waiting for finally came to bring life to a dry, parched land.

As we examine our Old Testament lesson today, I’d like for you to keep that image of the Palo Duro canyon in mind-normally a desert, but transformed into a garden by this summer’s life-giving rains.  It was the image of a desert in bloom that the prophet painted for his dejected people as a he proclaimed a promise of joy.  According to theologian Donald Bloesch, Isaiah 35 was most likely a prophetic promise of the return of the Jewish exiles from Babylonia to Jerusalem.[1]  It spoke of a time when Jerusalem was defeated, when God’s temple was destroyed, when God’s people were deported to a foreign land.  Life for many of these Jews was dried up, desolate, despondent and dire.  And between the land of their captivity and the land of their ancestors was a desert.  Like a moat filled with burning sand, parched earth and ferocious beasts, this wilderness presented a major obstacle for anyone wishing to return home to Zion.

But the Jews back then were not the only ones who’ve ever experienced “wilderness times” in their lives.  Life can be like that for all of us.

A Provision of Hope

Preached by Michael Cheuk
December 9, 2007, Second Sunday of Advent
Isaiah 11:1-10

This week, our whole community has been all abuzz over a local family being chosen to be on the TV show, “Extreme Makeover: Home Edition.”  For the last six days, many contractors, construction workers, local businesses and volunteers have worked 24-7 to build a house for the Lucas family, all in time for the “final reveal” tomorrow afternoon when they “move the bus” and show the family their new house.  It is hard to imagine what the Lucas family is feeling right now.  But can you imagine the hope and excitement you would feel if one morning, Ty Pennington, the carpenter host of the Extreme Makeover TV show came knocking at your door, and, with his moussed up hair and goofy smile, said “Good morning!” and told you that you’ve been chosen to be his show?  Owning a big, brand-new house is the quintessential American Dream, and I imagine that we might get our hopes up just a little if we saw the Extreme Makeover bus driving around our neighborhood.  We would be especially hopeful if we did not already own a home, or if our current home is dilapidated and in shambles, and we desperately need a safe and secure place of rest for ourselves and our families.  If you’re in a situation like that, having Ty Pennington come knocking at your door is a God-send, a provision of hope for a better future.

Well, in today’s Old Testament lesson from Isaiah 11, Isaiah is speaking to a people needing a provision of hope. 

A Place of Peace

Preached by Michael Cheuk
December 2, 2007, First Sunday of Advent
Isaiah 2:1-5

I have in our bedroom an overstuffed chair that Beth and I bought when we got married.  It is quite comfortable, and as you sink into its cushions, the chair just seems to envelope you in its welcoming embrace.  I have spent many an hour upstairs in our room, with the door shut, just sitting in that chair reading books, writing sermons, surfing the internet and just vegging.  As I’ve shared with you before, I’m actually an introvert by nature, which means that, while I like to be around people, eventually I need to be by myself, to have some peace and quiet, in order to recharge my emotional batteries.  After an especially exhausting day at work, I’m ready to plop myself down in that chair.  When the kids are rambunctious, running around screaming and shouting, I’m ready to retreat into the sanctuary of that chair.  When the house is a mess, and Beth is approaching me with a long “honey-do” list, I suddenly feel a strong magnetic pull to go upstairs and attach myself to that chair.  That chair is a place of peace for me.  It’s my man cave!

I wonder if you have “a place of peace” in your life?  It doesn’t have to be a chair.  It could be a mountain trail that captivates you with its breathtaking vistas and bracing air.  It could be the beach that calms you with the rhythm of the waves as they wash over your feet.  It could be the kitchen that comforts you with the wafting aroma of baking cookies.  It could be a hot, bubble bath that caresses you with its luxurious warmth as you sink into it and sigh like that woman in that old commercial: “Calgon, take me away!”

It’s good for us to have a place of peace in our lives, because the world that we live in is anything but peaceful.