Discerning God’s Call in Uncertain Times

Introduction

Our Scripture today speaks of what we might call a Christmas strike...

...ordered by Herod the Great, who ruled Judea from 37 to 4 BCE.

Herod was not Jewish. He was a ruler installed by the Roman Empire...

...a puppet king whose authority depended on keeping Rome satisfied.

...and Herod ruled from a place of deep insecurity.

This was a leader who had members of the Hasmonean family executed to eliminate rivals.

A leader so fearful of losing power that he had his own wife and sons killed.

A leader so threatened by the rumor of a child called King of the Jews that he ordered the slaughter of innocent children.

This was the first Christmas strike in our history.

But it was not a strike rooted in righteousness, justice, or grace.

It was a strike intended to display power, secure status, and demonstrate loyalty to the empire...

...at the cost of innocent lives.

...and while we may want to keep this violence in the past, we know better.

We have seen similar strikes in our own day...

...some during Christmas...

...others at different times of the year.

Acts of violence that were justified as necessary.

Power exercised to protect insecurity.

Innocent lives caught in the crossfire.

St. Matthew does not turn away from this reality...

...and neither should we.

Scripture is honest...

There are times of cruel and harsh uncertainty. When such times occur, Scripture reminds us that God’s grace is already at work, drawing life out of what harms.

As we wrestle with a world that often feels marked by fear, violence, and uncertainty, we are invited to ask…

When faced with times of cruel and harsh uncertainty, how do we co-participate in God's redemptive purposes?

Trusting God’s Call

We co-participate in God’s redemptive purposes by trusting God’s call.

Let us examine this scripture through a modern-day parable…

—

There was once a young family living quietly in a crowded neighborhood of the United States.

They had come seeking safety, working hard, keeping their heads down, loving their child fiercely.

The child was small...

...too young to know fear...

...but already carried a hope larger than the world knew how to hold.

One night, while the city slept, the father woke suddenly from a dream.

In the dream, a voice spoke with urgency…

...not thunder,

...not accusation...

...but clarity…

“Get up. Take the child and his mother. Leave now.

Danger is coming.

Those in power are afraid of what this child might become.”

The father did not argue.

He did not wait for morning.

He gathered what little they had...

...documents, diapers, a jacket too thin for winter...

They did not say goodbye.

They did not make plans beyond survival.

—

Today’s scripture and this modern parable reveal a God who moves ahead of danger.

A God whose grace goes before us, working within us, even when we cannot yet see the way forward.

God’s call often comes unexpectedly, and it requires change.

Rather than resisting God’s call...

Joseph takes Jesus and Mary and flees to Egypt.

Today, at a moment’s notice, parents still gather what little they have and move their families from town to town, seeking safety.

We talked a little bit about trusting God’s call during our Advent study.

A common question is: How do we discern God’s call?

Some Christians discern God’s call primarily through concerns for order, security, and preservation of social structures they believe have been entrusted to them...

...including strong national borders.

Other Christians discern God’s call through scripture’s repeated witness to welcoming the stranger, caring for the poor, and sharing our abundance with those who are vulnerable, seeing hospitality as central to God’s redemptive work in the world.

We don’t resolve this tension by taking sides first.

We resolve it by learning, together, how to discern God’s call.

How do faithful Christians respond when we disagree in moments of cruel and harsh uncertainty?

The question is not whether we are listening, but whether we are listening together with humility and love.

In the Wesleyan tradition, we have a gift for discernment called the Wesleyan Quadrilateral...

…Scripture, Tradition, Reason, and Experience…

...all held together in prayerful conversation.

A conversation that requires us to be in community with one another.

Scripture is primary.

...and in St. Matthew’s gospel, God’s voice does not come from the halls of power or arguments about security.

It comes through a warning meant to protect a child, a family, and life itself.

Again and again, scripture bears witness to a God who hears the cries of the vulnerable and welcomes the stranger.

Tradition reminds us that the Church has long wrestled with how to follow Christ in times of instability.

From the early church’s care for refugees to monastic hospitality, to Wesley’s own ministry among the poor...

...the Christian tradition consistently ties faithfulness to care for those on the margins.

Reason asks us to consider the consequences of our discernment.

What kind of world are we helping to shape?

What kind of people are we becoming?

Does our response bear the fruits of the Spirit—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity?

Experience calls us to listen, especially to those whose lives are most affected by our decisions.

The stories of migrants, refugees, and displaced families are not distractions from the discernment process; they are essential to it.

St. Matthew does not give us Herod’s policy rationale...

...He gives us the experience of a family on the move, trusting God enough to survive.

The Wesleyan Quadrilateral does not guarantee that we will all reach the same conclusions.

But it does form us into a people who listen deeply, love boldly, and trust that God is still at work…

...even in cruel and uncertain times.

Co-participating in God’s redemptive purposes means committing ourselves to this kind of discernment… TOGETHER.

Finding Hope Within Suffering

We co-participate in God’s redemptive purposes by finding hope within suffering.

Let us continue this scripture through a modern-day parable…

—

Before dawn, sirens echoed in the distance.

Unmarked vehicles moved through the neighborhood.

Doors were knocked on… then pounded...

Families hid in closets.

Children were pulled from beds.

Some parents were taken.

Some children were left behind.

But this family was already gone.

They crossed state lines the way others once crossed borders...

...by night, by fear, by trust that movement was safer than stillness.

They lived for a time in borrowed spaces...

...a friend’s couch, a church basement, a room where the walls were thin and the future thinner.

They learned what it means to live undocumented…

…not just on paper, but in their bodies:

...to flinch at footsteps,

...to silence a child’s laughter,

...to rehearse what to say if separated.

Meanwhile, in their old neighborhood, grief spread like wildfire.

Families mourned children taken.

Mothers cried out with grief that would not be comforted.

The sound rose all the way to heaven.

—

St. Matthew shows us that the world which greets our Redeemer...

...the world that greets Emmanuel, God with us...

...is a fallen world where fear, violence, and sin run rampant.

Friends, this gospel convicts me.

It convicts me because...

I believe in Jesus Christ, fully human and fully divine.

God who does not remain distant from suffering...

...but enters it.

From the very beginning of the Gospel, our salvation is already being shaped...

...not through power, but through vulnerability.

...not through domination, but through solidarity.

In this text and in the parable we have heard, we see that God in Christ stands with the marginalized, the displaced, and the threatened.

God does not save from a distance.

God saves by drawing near.

The suffering of the innocent here… and ultimately at the cross...

...does not reveal God’s will.

It reveals the cruelty of oppressive systems.

Hatred and fear seek to secure themselves by snuffing out life.

Death is the furthest distance oppression can create.

But friends, death does not have the final word.

The resurrection of Jesus Christ exposes the limits of empire, violence, and fear.

It defeats death itself...

...and offers us a vision of liberation, freedom, and restored communion with God.

Despite how fiercely oppressive forces try to trap families in fear, displacement, and exile...

We have proof, friends.

We have proof that God’s redemptive power is greater than fear.

That God is greater than violence.

That God is greater than death.

We co-participate in God’s redemptive purposes by finding hope within suffering.

James Cone reminds us that hope within suffering is sustained through...

...prayer, song, and shared testimony.

Practices that root oppressed communities in relationship with the living God.

In communion with the risen Christ, the lies spoken by violence, racism, and exclusion are exposed for what they are...

...and not the truth of who God says we are.

Dwell in Restoration

Because friends, you are created in the image of God…

...no matter where you were born,

...no matter your ethnicity,

...no matter your race,

...no matter your faith tradition,

...no matter your sexuality...

You bear God’s image…

You are sacred, loved, and worthy of co-participation in God’s redemptive purposes.

So friends, I invite you to dwell in restoration with our modern-day parable.

—

Years passed.

One day, the father dreamed again.

“It is safe to return,” the voice said.

“Those who sought the child’s life are gone.”

So they returned...

...not to prominence, not to protection, but to obscurity.

They settled in a place no one expected greatness to come from.

The child grew up marked not by safety, but by survival.

Not by privilege, but by memory.

And when the child was grown,

He spoke often of strangers and borders,

of children and cages,

of laws that crush and mercy that restores.

He said things like...

“I was a stranger, and you welcomed me.”

...and some listened...

...and some were afraid...

—

As United Methodists, we are charged to form disciples of Jesus Christ...

...who empowered by the Holy Spirit,

love boldly, serve joyfully, and lead courageously

...in the greater Syracuse community and worldwide connections.

To lead courageously...

...we are called to follow Jesus’ example by resisting and dismantling all systems of evil, injustice, and oppression.

We do this through our work with immigrants in Syracuse by demonstrating peace, justice, and reconciliation.

Here at University United Methodist Church, our Seeking Justice team is already engaged in this work...

...offering welcome,

...raising awareness,

...and advocating for dignity.

But friends, I invite you to listen more deeply...

...to how God might be calling you into this work...

When listening to that call, it can be easy to feel overwhelmed…

...drowned out by the news,

...by fear,

...by the voices of those in power.

But find hope,

...find hope within suffering....

…and when you sense that hope stirring in your soul...

Begin a conversation with Debra Robinson, Tom Boll, and me

...so that we might lead courageously and dwell in restoration.

Well, I threw the book at you...

...scripture,

...Wesleyan Quadrilateral,

...a bit of my beliefs stated in my DCOMM papers,

...James Cone,

...Nancy Pineda-Madrid...

But if you take only one thing with you, let it be this…

Scripture shows us that God’s grace is already at work...

...going before us,

...working within us,

...and calling us to participate in God’s redemptive purposes.

In the name of our Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer. Amen.