If You See a Star, You May Pack Your Gifts. If you Follow the Star, You May Become a Gift

Feast of the Epiphany Isaiah 60:1-6 Matthew 2:1-12

What it is like in the world

It is a time of turmoil and darkness in the world. A puppet holds political power. He was not born to rule, yet somehow he has ended up in charge. Everyone fears his temper, his capricious nature, his cruelty. Hope has been born in a baby on the borders of society, yet the one who rules sits alone: in the dark, without hope. He knows. He knows he does not really belong on a throne. His crown sits uneasily on his head. It would not take much to topple his power.

Herod may rule the Jewish people, but he is not really a Jew. He was born out of the Idumean people, otherwise known as the Edomites. Edom was an area south of Judea, and after about 324 BCE, the Jewish people conquered the Edomites and forced them to adopt Jewish traditions. So Herod is not a real Jew. He knows he does not fit the ancient prophets’ criteria for the Anointed One who has been promised. The kind of light that shines out of Herod’s eyes is not the kind that invites God’s glory. It is all about Herod’s glory. The kind of light that shines out of Herod’s palace is not the kind that compels nations and kings to make journeys to Jerusalem to bow at his feet.

Pagan Foreigners Arrive at the Court

So when a group of foreign astrologers shows up outside Herod’s court, the king’s illusion of power crumbles. These pagan foreigners ask, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.” We can imagine that Herod’s eyes narrow to slits. What child? What king of the Jews? He is the king of the Jews.

Yet it is obvious that these Persian scholars—travel-weary, yet with hope in their faces—do not think the one they search for is him. These Gentile strangers are not sure just where the real king of the Jews is, but they know he is not the one sitting on the throne in front of them. Herod has not gotten this much power without being shrewd and manipulative. He knows how to hold his proverbial cards close to his purple-robed chest. So he forces himself to smile. He dismisses the group of strangers, then promptly summons the religious leaders to his chambers.

He demands, "Remind me where the Messiah is to be born." (my paraphrase) They tell him, “In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet.” These words rattle Herod to the core. He was not born in Bethlehem. Someone has been born who is a threat to his power. Someone wants his crown—and likely his head. But Herod needs more information. So he secretly calls for the wise Persian scholars to return to his chambers.

Exactly when did you first see this star? How long have you been traveling from Persia? (my paraphrase)

They reply, not realizing that this powerful man is setting a trap for the foreign visitors. According to Matthew’s gospel, the strangers know nothing about Bethlehem—until King Herod sends them there. “Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.” Of course the homage Herod intends to pay is not worship or adoration. It is death—and a quick one—for a particular toddler who sleeps peacefully near his parents in a small home in a small village called Bethlehem.

God's Purpose and Human Purposes

Yet God’s purpose is always larger than any human purpose. It may not happen when you want it to happen, but God’s love and light will win. Always. You can try “to stop the flow of God’s gracious and liberating work in the world; you can do whatever you want, pull any strings you want, commit any atrocity you want, but you will not win.”[1] When all is said and done, God’s light will prevail in a dark, corrupt world that weeps, yet this very world still holds tightly to a tiny glimmer of hope far down the road. God’s love wins. God’s light wins. Always. No matter what.

How does this happen? One way it happened in the first century was that a group of foreign, pagan scholars and astrologers paid attention. A new star appeared in the dark sky, and they saw something new—something in the heavens that wasn’t there last night. Their curiosity was aroused. Then they were so sure about this sign that they went out and bought expensive gifts. They packed for what they knew would be a long journey—likely taking at least a year, if not longer. They had the courage enough to set out on this long journey, following the guidance of a celestial sign.

It took a group of pagan strangers from the East to remind the Jewish people of their own forgotten tradition—the prophetic tradition that said God’s Anointed One would come to bring God’s glory to God’s people. Yes, darkness may cover the earth. Thick darkness may cover the peoples. Yet according to the prophet Isaiah, “the Lord will arise upon you, and his glory will appear over you. Nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn.”

The Jews had been in darkness for so long, ruled by corrupt political and religious leaders for so long, they had closed their eyes to the small glimmer of hope overhead and ahead of them. Yet when pagan magi used both their minds and their souls in a quest for the divine, they found that divine light—shining out of the face of Jesus of Nazareth.

Another way that God’s love and light won in this story happened after the Persian magi knelt to offer expensive gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh to this sweet child of God. One, or all, of them had foreboding dreams that night. Do not return to Herod, their dreams told them. They listened. They obeyed their instincts not to return to the court of a capricious, cruel ruler.

The Light of the World

These strangers from the Far East had seen the Light of the World in person. They had paid attention. They had made an arduous and dangerous journey. Their reward was to be able to offer their precious gifts to the most precious child who has ever graced this earthly realm. And they were changed.

When you are changed by the Light of Christ, you never leave the same way you came. Like the wise men, you may leave to go home to your own country—but you go home by another road. That is because the old road is dark. The one you take is lit with hope. Yes, you will continue to live as all humans being live—“in the tension between threat and promise.”[2] Yet you will understand that no matter what happens in the world—economically, politically, socially, or psychologically, the real struggle is a spiritual one.[3]

The star that shines in a night sky may sometimes be dim. There may be times when clouds completely hide the light. You may get so distracted or fearful that you forget to look for the light. Yet God’s light is always there.

Here is something else that is true. You may see a star. You may pack your gifts for a journey. You may set out on what becomes a long and arduous journey. At times, when valleys are dark and shadows are deep, you will wonder if you have made a fool’s journey. Yet if you persevere, if you protect your gifts and make sure you offer them to the true Messiah, you will never return home the same way you came. In fact, what you may well discover is that you—flawed human being that you are—you have become a gift to God and to God’s world.

We may all travel through challenging things like government shutdowns or volatile stock markets. We may travel through dark valleys of health crises like cancer or heart disease or accidents. We may sit with a loved one who is dying. We may carefully wind our way through the darkness of corrupt leaders who lie for the sake of their own institutional careers, or those I the Church who have sexually abused innocent people, thereby rocking the very centers of people’s faith in God.

Yet flawed as we human beings are, God calls us to see, to hear, to understand that we can carry gifts to God, and we can be transformed into gifts ourselves.

This week, in the midst of whatever you are going through in your life, I invite you to give a gift to someone—not a Christmas gift all wrapped up with a bow. This gift is to do a kindness for someone—and if that person is not someone you particularly like, all the better.

Buy the woman behind you in the drive-through a cup of coffee or a soda. Buy a stranger some lunch. Go visit someone who is ill or dying. Do something kind for that person’s spouse. Write a note to someone in your life who needs some encouragement. Stop for a moment in the grocery store line, look into the cashier’s eyes and say thank you to him or her. (In fact, make sure you use the services of a cashier. It might help save their job!)

In other words, do some random act of kindness. Then go home and write that down on an index card or in your journal, or in your day planner. Sit with that gift for a few quiet minutes. Then write this: “I am God’s child. I am God’s gift. I am a gift of God’s love and light. And with my very self, I am lighting the world—with love.” Amen.

[1] The Rev. Caleb Tabor, Commentary on Epiphany (Matthew 2:1-12) on www.textweek.com. Accessed on Jan. 2, 2019 at https://modernmetanoia.org/2018/12/24/the-epiphany=c-the-light-of-gods-liberation/.

[2] Timothy R. Sensing, “Homiletical Perspective on Matthew 2:1-12” in Feasting on the Gospels: Matthew, Vol. 1, Chapters 1-13, (Cynthia A. Jarvis & E. Elizabeth Johnson, Editors, (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2013), 17.

[3] Ibid, 17.Images accessed through Google or at http://www.unsplash.com

Jesus People Who Become Jesus Community

Mission Impossible?

Good News in the Wilderness