One of the real disappointments of my life so far is that I've never had the opportunity to travel to Egypt. I've talked to people who have been there and they tell me that while Cairo is little more than a noisy, smelly and not entirely pleasant city, it nevertheless has a lot of interesting things to visit, and of course not far from Cairo there are a whole variety of historic sites: the Pyramids, the Sphinx, etc. Someday I really would like to go there. I suppose that to date there are two reasons that I haven't made it to Egypt so far. The first is that it's pretty expensive to get there. The second is that – thus far in my life – I've had no need to escape from an angry monarch seeking to kill me. (To date, Queen Elizabeth has been remarkably tolerant of my ambivalent attitude toward the House of Windsor!) Jesus didn't have that second luxury. 

 

     The passage we read this morning is one that we often shy away form at this time of year, because it just sounds so “un-Christmasy.” We like our Christmas season to revolve around this: “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the Town of David a Saviour has been born to you; He is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: you will find a baby wrapped with cloths and lying in a manger.” You know what? If the story had ended there, it would have made a wonderful fairy tale. The shepherds went home and told everyone what they had seen, the Wise Men avoided trouble by going home a different way, and they all lived happily ever after – just like characters in a fairy tale. And that's often the way we approach Christmas. We have a beautiful Christmas marked by gifts and decorations and the presence of family, and then we move seamlessly into New Year's celebrations and January starts on a bright and happy note. It sounds wonderful. It does sound like a fairy tale. Maybe this time we will live happily ever after – but probably not, because life generally isn't like that. It wasn't for Mary and Joseph and Jesus; neither will be for us. There's happiness, of course – but “ever after?” No, life has it's challenges, and 2011 will have its challenges. I suspect that because we don't want to be reminded of that fact, we often skip over this important part of the Christmas story – a part of the Christmas story that reminds us that Christmas isn't a fairy tale, and the folks in it didn't live “happily ever after.” The Wise Men came to King Herod seeking the child. They had seen His star, and they knew that it heralded the coming of a great King, but Herod wasn't amused by that news, and the story reminds us that those on top of the heap don't easily tolerate threats to their position. Herod – feeling threatened by this child – decided to eliminate the threat by ordering the massacre of all the baby boys of Bethlehem. “The slaughter of the innocents” is what this story is usually called. Herod cast a wide and deadly and even barbarous net to eliminate this threat – and Joseph, Mary and Jesus needed somewhere to run; somewhere to hide. We may not have evil kings seeking to do away with us, but as we deal with the storms that do enter our lives, maybe we should remember that God isn't singling us out, as easy as it is to feel that way at times. Even those who had found favour with God (and even Jesus Himself) sometimes had to find a place of refuge to wait out a storm. You'd think that those who had found favour with God wouldn't have to face storms – but that's the fairy tale seeping into Christmas again. Today's story tells us that an angel appeared and basically said to Joseph, Mary and Jesus: “run for your lives!” And off they went to Egypt to wait out the storm.

 

     There are those who like the fairy tale Christmas to be present in the church as well. They want a month of happy Christmas carols and decorations and little more. I wonder if the church isn't called to be more than that during the Christmas season? Don't get me wrong. I'm not advocating that we do away with Christmas carols, or take down the decorations or get rid of the tree. I love these things. They do add to my enjoyment of the season. But at the same time, there are people who desperately need refuge, and from whom will they find it if not the church? There are desperate people in our community – hungry people, poor people, sick people, grieving people, people who've almost given up hope. I think we need to be there for them as well. By all means the church should be a bit of Bethlehem – celebrating the birth of God's Son, but by all means the church should also be a bit of Egypt – offering refuge to those who just can't take it anymore; to those who are sick and tired.

 

     The place in which we're gathered today surely hasn't been named a “sanctuary” for no reason. This place is called to be a refuge from the storms of life, from the tough choices that have to be faced and from the multitude of problems that we might be facing – but we don't escape from our problems by ignoring them. Actually, that usually makes our problems worse. And so we not only offer refuge, we offer relief; and we not only offer relief, we offer hope. In our gatherings week after week, we're not magically transported into a “happily ever after” fairy tale. Instead, we acknowledge and honour each other's challenges and pain, and we're reminded that, no matter how alone we might sometimes feel  as we struggle with whatever battles lay before us, we're never really alone. God is with us, and as God's children, we are asked to be with each other.

 

     The church is to be the place that gives shelter, comfort, hope and protection to those who feel under attack and who are facing the storms of life. And we need to remember that the church is more than a building. The church is us, and so it's fair to say that as a community of people who follow the one who Himself needed shelter and protection we as Christians are called to give both shelter and protection (as well as hope and comfort) to those who are under attack and facing the storms of life. In short, we need to be Egypt – a refuge for those who through no fault of their own are victims of circumstance. We need to be a place of promise for those who suffer from the hopeless fear that their very existence is an accident and that their being here doesn't make a difference. We need to be a place of escape for those who feel overwhelmed by past regrets, failures and guilt. 

 

     We don't actually know how long the Holy Family remained in Egypt, except that they returned “after Herod died” and that they were certainly back a few years before Jesus turned twelve, since there's an account in Luke's Gospel of Jesus visiting the Temple in Jerusalem at that age, and that story begins with the words 'Every year His parents went to Jerusalem for the Feast of the Passover.” But for however long they were there, Egypt was a resting place – a place of refuge and safety. That's surely what the church is called to be as well. Sometimes we become so concerned with “recruiting” people or “converting” people that we forget that our real call is just to be there for people who will often just pass briefly through, but who will remember the healing touch and the feeling of peace and security they were given for however long they were here. Friends, in 2011, let's strive to be Egypt for whoever needs us.