As a child, I was a sleep walker. During dreamtime, I’d act out the content of my dreams. Our family didn’t watch a lot of TV before my bedtime—because, if we watched something that was just a little bit disturbing, scary or sad, I’d be re-enacting the scenes during the night.
When my grandmother moved away for a few months, night after night, I’d search through our home—looking in closets, behind doors, calling out “Grandma, I can’t find you.” Eventually the dream would end, and I’d go back to bed without ever waking.
Our brains are designed to use dreams—they help us process the world around us. Mostly, we don’t remember them. Sometimes, a dream is so vivid that we awake still aware of it.
Many years ago, I woke one night after dreaming about an estate tax return (as one does). These tax returns are due exactly nine months after a death—so the timing of the filing is irregular. When I woke up, I realized that I hadn’t seen the file since we accepted the engagement – eight months earlier. At the office, I checked the taxpayer’s date of death. It was exactly nine months earlier.
Sometimes our dreams are providential.
Immediately before today’s Gospel text, the three wise men offered their gifts to the holy family -- and then left town. We don’t know how many days have passed since Jesus was born; but we do know the family is still in Bethlehem.
Matthew added a few red herrings to our reading: Geography (Egypt, Israel, Judea, Galilee, and Nazareth); and worldly power structures (Herod and Archelaus). They are red herrings because they distract our attention from all that is holy in the text: Joseph, God’s way of engaging in our world, and spiritual gifts.
In the first dream, God spoke through an angel: “Joseph, get up—take the child and Mary and flee to Egypt…remain there until I get back to you.” I googled the distance from Bethlehem to Egypt: 429 miles. That’s the distance from Fort Worth Texas to Jackson, Ms. Imagine walking to Jackson with a newborn baby and a woman who’s recently given birth.
They weren’t prepared for that trip. When they left Nazareth for Bethlehem, they expected a quick round-trip. They left behind all their material stuff, family and community.
Joseph and Mary were dislocated from the life they knew—and relocated with a new life. A life entirely centered on Jesus the Christ.
It is remarkable that Joseph never spoke in this text. The angel said, “Joseph, get up and go” and Joseph got up—and went.
Matthew doesn’t tell us how long they’d live in Egypt, and Joseph didn’t ask.
In the second dream, Joseph was told, “Get up, take the child and Mary and return to Israel.” Joseph got up—and went.
While they traveled, he had a third dream: a warning to avoid the region of Judea. And so he did.
From the very beginning, God orchestrated the birth and life of Jesus through Joseph’s dreams. Remember when Joseph first learned that Mary was pregnant? He was prepared to break off the engagement. But God spoke through his dream saying, “…the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit…she will bear a son and you are to name him Jesus.” When Joseph awoke, he took Mary as his wife.[1]
Matthew painted a portrait of Joseph for us. Like Mary, he is deeply connected to God. He had an unusual spiritual gift—the ability to interpret his dreams and discern correctly, when God was speaking to him. Joseph was a man of action. He didn’t question God’s guidance—he humbly followed God’s Word. Every time.
All of us have dreams for our lives. Before we leave grade school, we have answered the question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” at least one hundred times. Throughout our lives, we are constantly honing and refining our dreams. Sometimes our dreams become so fixed that its difficult for God to interrupt our dream and invite us into God’s vision.
When I first came to St. Christopher’s, there were about 60 people and all of us had a dream for St. Christopher’s future home. The scary part (for me) was that there were 60 different dreams! No two dreams were the same.
Over time, we allowed God to interrupt those dreams—we began focusing on ministries like immigration, mentoring, food for the hungry. Together, we helped Hopewallah begin a program to feed those who are severely affected by leprosy. We watched as Laundry Love expanded its ministry by two-fold.
Christofolx, hospitality, Advent and Lenten learning programs, choir, acolyting, a curate, and on and on. We are building the foundation for a church. Not the bricks and mortar kind -- rather a foundation for the kind of church Christ imagined.
As our ministry expands, so does this community. We are growing in discipleship, in faith, in patience and we’re growing in numbers. One of the characteristics of this community that I love is our connectedness to one another. We are siblings in Christ—and it shows.
Mary and Joseph were dislocated from their lives in Nazareth. The journey to Bethlehem and beyond changed the meaning and purpose of their lives. The family that resettled in Nazareth was different than the one who left.
Nearly four years ago, St. Christopher’s was dislocated from its life on Southwest Loop 820. We were dislocated from the idea that the church was a structure, that the color of the carpet mattered.
We have been relocated to a new way of being, to knowing that we are the Body of Christ, that our calling is to ministry beyond the front door, and to becoming the people God desires us to be.
The journey was not easy. We have been changed—because we allowed God to interrupt our dream and lead us to something new.
This year, we will revitalize the building steering committee and move toward a permanent home for St. Christopher’s—a home that is aligned with our ministries, our calling, and the growth of this Body of Christ.
The challenge for St. Christopher’s is to not return to Nazareth as if we never left.
[1] Matt 1: 20-25
