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Sweet Mystery Of Life

**'Where is the Infant King of the Jews? ... we saw His star as it rose and have come to do Him homage'** (Matthew 2:2)
Isaiah 60:1-6; Psalms 72:2,7-8,10-13; Ephesians 3:2-3,5-6; Matthew 2:1-12

Sermon Topic Incarnation

Sermon Week The Epiphany of the Lord Cycle A

Scripture Summary Matthew 2:2


I paid a dime for a package of seeds,
the clerk tossed them down with a flip.

"We have them assorted to everyone's needs,"
he said with a smile on his lip.

"Pansies, poppies, asters and peas, ten cents a
package, now pick as you please."

Now seeds are just dimes to the clerk in the store,
and dimes are the things that he needs.

And I've been to buy them in the store before,
and thought of them merely as seeds.

But it flashed through my mind as I took them this time, "You've purchased a miracle here for a dime.

"You've a dime's worth of power which no man can create, you've a dime's worth of life in your hand.

"You've a dime's worth of mystery, destiny, faith,
which the wisest man can't understand.

"In this bright little package, now isn't it odd, you've a dime's worth of something known only to God!"1

A dime for a package of seeds? Obviously, that little poem was written many years ago. But whether its material value is a dime, a quarter, a dollar or a million dollars, that package contains a mystery known only to God.

We often hear protests, against our preoccupation with things. But it is well to remember that things, "are part of life and partake of life's infinite character." There is nothing wrong with a thing per se. We go wrong only when we see the thing in a very limited way, as just "this" or merely "that," and not in terms of infinite mystery.

A flower is a thing. But what a thing! Even if you have studied botany, do you know all about that flower? You can give botanical names to all its parts, you can tell your neighbor what kind of fertilizer you used in growing it and precisely how you tended it, but have you told the whole story of how it came to be? It is, afterall, a very long story and a very wonderful one, and we do not know the whole of it. It extends back, as all things do, to mystery.

Alfred Tennyson once plucked a flower, and held it [...]

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