Those of us who grew up in the era just after the Second World War will remember the excited anticipation with which we looked forward each year to the new Disney movie. In those days before television, the appearance of the latest Disney feature was a major entertainment event. I still remember the long lines of children and parents stretching around the block by Kalamazoo’s State Theatre. As I recall, I enjoyed all the Disney movies, though some were clearly my favorites. Now a whole new generation of children is watching these movies at home on DVD’s. Disney’s Cinderella is one of those.

The Cinderella story pre-dates Disney by centuries. In its original form, the story is relatively simple. Cinderella’s mother dies. Her father remarries. His new wife, now Cinderella’s stepmother, has little use for her and less love. Cinderella’s two new stepsisters treat her like dirt, which is where Cinderella is relegated to spending most of her time, hence her name – Cinderella, little cinder girl. She is reduced to living as a menial servant in her own home sweeping out the chimney hearth.

That is what she is doing when news of a great royal ball reaches the household. Though the royal invitation is meant to include all the members of the family, no one can imagine Cinderella being worthy of attending. So off they go leaving Cinderella all alone and feeling very sorry for herself.

Suddenly, Cinderella’s fairy godmother appears, waves her magic wand and, lo and behold, Cinderella is decked out for the ball in a magnificent gown and glass slippers. Off she goes with a magic coach, horses, driver and footmen. When she arrives at the palace she is the belle of the ball and the object of the prince’s rapt attention. She has such a wonderful time that she loses track of time until the tolling of the midnight hour causes the spell to begin wearing off. Cinderella runs away from the arms of her handsome prince before the last stroke of the clock returns everything to the way it was before.

The love-sick prince with only Cinderella’s glass slipper left behind in her flight to guide him, launches a house-to-house – or should we say “foot-to-foot?! – search throughout the kingdom? He is determined to find the mysterious girl of his dreams. Personally, I never understood why Cinderella’s foot was the only one that would fit the slipper, but I knew then and now that it must be accepted on faith if the story is to have the requisite happy ending. Which it does. After working his way through hundreds of feet – shades of Al Bundy! – the prince finds the perfect fit. All’s well that ends well. Cinderella and her prince get married and live happily ever after.

Like all great children’s literature, Cinderella is a children’s story written for adults. Its hopeful message that “cream will rise to the top,” given enough time and the proper circumstances is one we want to believe. The story particularly appeals to those of us who may feel we are “cream” in a “skim milk” world and wonder why we are still stuck at the bottom of life’s bottle (or carton). As adults we know that the world does not lack for people who can’t recognize cream when they see it. We also know the world does not lack for indifferent mothers, impotent fathers, and impossible siblings. We have come to learn that sometimes those who are closest to us treat us the worst. We have realized to our deep distress that sometimes those who should have felt the most responsibility for looking out for us and taking care of us fail miserably.

Once we go out into “the cold, cruel world,” the chances are even greater that many people will fail to see just how “creamy” we really are. Most of them will be quite indifferent to any dreams we have of attending life’s ball and finding the man or woman or opportunity of our dreams. This is not because other people are inherently wicked. It is just that most people are so consumed by their own need to get to the ball that they miss seeing us there at the bottom of life’s bottle.

Now if what I have been describing is the way you feel today – even just a little – and someone should come along and say. . .

. . . You are cream.

. . . Cream will rise.

. . . (And) I am going to shake life’s bottle to get you started on your way to the top. . .

Then you and I probably will receive that messenger with equal measures of amazement and joy. The look on our faces would match those people in the television commercial when the Publisher’s Clearing House people show up with the check. Let’s be honest with one another: we all have fantasies of being rescued from our troubles and miseries, don’t we? At some point in our lives, all of us long for someone to do for us what we believe we cannot do for ourselves.

To add a sharper edge to our longing, many of us feel what we assume Cinderella felt. Something which used to be ours has been taken away. Something which belonged to us by right of birth has been usurped by others. We feel the impotent anger of those betrayed by injustice. Feeling all this, we long not only for a rescuer but also a restorer, some person or power that will put things back the way they used to be, the right way, our way.

Remember that I told you a moment ago that children’s stories are often a mask for adult realities. As I look around the world today, I see many Cinderellas longing for a rescuer or a restorer. I see many people struggling with enormous personal problems. Jobs are hard to find and keep. Bills are difficult to pay. Marriages are hard to maintain. Children are difficult to raise. A sense of wholeness and happiness is hard to find. We look back with longing on the world of our parents and grandparents and wish that things now were as simple as they seemed to be then. We feel more than a little overwhelmed and wish that some rescuer would appear to give us the answer to our problems. You do know that many people feel this way, don’t you? If you doubt it, let me remind you that advice columns and articles are the most widely read, and that television and radio talk shows dealing with personal problems are the most widely watched, and that self-help books are the most widely bought. Yes, many people today do want to be rescued. And some of them – too many of them, I fear – want something else.

As I suggested a moment ago, there is a darker side to

this “Cinderella Complex” from which many of us suffer today. Too many people in our churches, in our communities, and in our country are deeply aggrieved. They believe that some individuals, some groups, some organizations, some institutions, have taken away what is rightly their’s. They have awakened to discover that the power, the prestige, the position, and the privileges that were once their’s now seem to belong to someone else.

For some, the object of their rage and resentment is liberated women. So they band together with other aggrieved men in an attempt to take back what they believe is their proper and God-given role.  Some see liberalism as responsible for all the problems of modern society from welfare to murder. For some, the problem people are African-Americans or other “lesser breeds without the law” who are demanding their rightful place in all aspects of society. For others, the problem people are immigrants or foreigners perceived to be taking away our job or economic privileges. For some, the source of all our woes are those who do not believe that America was once and must be established again as a “Christian” nation, regardless of what that may mean to those of our fellow citizens who hold other faiths or no faith at all. For some here in Chattanooga, they believe homosexual people have a wicked agenda that will destroy our city.

These angry ones among us have very loud voices. They also have achieved a measure of political, economic, and religious power. They are possessed of a deep longing that things should be restored to the way they believe it was in a mythical past, when the right people had the power, the prestige, the privileges, and the positions at the top, and the wrong people kept quiet and subservient in their proper place . . . at the bottom.

I am sure I will not surprise you when I tell you that

such dreams of rescue and restoration are to be found not only in the secular but also the sacred realms. Indeed, these dreams are so pervasive, so much a part of our human condition, that religious people have looked to God for rescue and restoration. “Save me from my troubles, O God. Restore to me what I deserve,” must be the most common prayer on human lips.

The people of Jesus’ day longed for a Savior and a Messiah, some God-given figure who would come with power to save them from their personal troubles and restore the Nation of Israel to what they perceived was their proper role as leaders of the world. This could only happen, they believed, if God stepped into human history in the person of some divine leader to end the world as it is and bring about a new world. Throughout his entire ministry, Jesus had to struggle with those expectations. Over and over again, people asked him if his birth meant the beginning of the end. Today’s scripture lesson is only one of many places in the Gospels where Jesus attempts to correct the popular longing for a God-given rescuer and restorer. But when he dared to challenge people’s dreams of being rescued or restored they became very disappointed and very angry. Some of them deserted him. Some of them betrayed him. And, finally, some of them destroyed him.

In the greatest irony of all, after his death his followe4rs – now become the Christian Church – gave him titles and powers that he neither wanted nor claimed in his life. They insisted that he really was the rescuer and restorer who would come again to do the second time what he had not done the first time. That same belief persists to this day and may be seen in that bumper sticker: “Jesus Is Coming Back Soon, And Boy Is He Mad!”

Though you and I know very well that that bumper sticker is intended as a joke, the belief that it presents is no joke at all. Such a belief is a symptom of the sickness of religion and not an indicator of the health of true faith. And what is that true faith? If Jesus is not rescuer or restorer, what is he?

I am going to run a real risk by using a very traditional religious term and then trying to help us all understand what I think it really means. I believe that Jesus is the redeemer of the world. Not rescuer, not restorer, but redeemer. Now what does that mean? I think I can explain this best not by a theological definition but by telling a story. It was written by the great Danish theologian, Søren Kierkegaard.

Once upon a time, says Kierkegaard, there was a great prince who fell in love with a peasant girl living in the village beneath his castle. He had seen her while driving through the streets of the village in his royal coach, but she had no idea that he loved her. The prince pondered what to do. He wanted to be sure that she loved him for himself. How could he be sure of that if he suddenly appeared before her in his royal crown and robes? Suddenly, an idea came to him. He would leave his palace and all his wealth and power and privileges and go live in the same village with his beloved. He would work as an ordinary person – say a carpenter. He would get to know his beloved in the normal way and, over time, he hoped and believed she would grow to love him. Then – and only then – would he tell her who he really was.

By the way, I do not recall Kierkegaard ending his story by having the prince taking the peasant girl off to the palace. That would be rescuing and not redemption. To redeem someone is be with them, to be there for them, to accept them, and to love them as they are. A true redeemer knows that he or she must live side-by-side, life-with-life, heart-to-heart with someone else. We must be with them so caringly and compassionately that they discover within themselves the beauty, the strength, the gifts, and the possibilities that were always there but hidden, perhaps, by the soot and cinders of life. A true redeemer does not demean us by rescuing us or degrade us by restoring us. A true redeemer is Immanuel, God with us, and calls us to be brothers and sisters, fellow seekers and pilgrims, joint partners in building the reign of God on earth as we know it to be in heaven.

Dear Christian family, this Christmas in the Year of Our Lord 2013, I invite you to discover your Redeemer. I announce to you glad tidings of great joy: our Prince has, indeed, come. And where meek souls are ready to receive that presence into their lives, the Prince will enter. And the greatest wonder of all: we will then discover not only who the Prince really is, but we will discover who we really are. What a wonderful gift of hope Christmas brings for all of us! It’s a presence all of us can receive this Christmas. And when we do, what a hope we will all feel!