January 5: the Second Sunday after Christmas
Today is the Twelfth Day of Christmas. Tonight is Twelfth Night, which means that tomorrow is the Epiphany of Our Lord Jesus Christ, a cherished day in the ecumenical calendar of the church, a feast day observed with great devotion and festivity in many branches of Christendom. In some places and cultures, it even rivals or outshines Christmas. The Epiphany inaugurates a new season in the church year in which we hear the good news of God made manifest in Jesus.
An epiphany is a divine manifestation in the midst of human history. The Epiphany is of course deeply rooted in the celebration of the visit of the magi (the wise men) to Bethlehem, as it is told in the Gospel according to Matthew (2:1-12). The gospel story points to the birth of Jesus as an incarnational event that involves simple and humble people—most especially Mary and Joseph—who are transformed into the vessels of God’s purpose and blessing.
At the heart of today’s story are the magi, sometimes called “wise men”—astronomers, or perhaps more accurately, astrologers, who studied the night sky for signs and omens for the future. Over centuries the story of the magi grew in the telling. The wise men became kings. Their number, not specified in the text, was fixed at three, corresponding to the three gifts they gave to the Christ child: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. They were given names: Melchior, Caspar, and Balthasar. And each of them was identified with one of the continents of Christendom: Asia, Africa, and Europe.
Barbara Brown Taylor invites us to consider how a close reading of today’s text from Matthew “offers a rare opportunity to rescue the magi from their fixed places in the annual Christmas pageant and restore them to their biblical roles as key witnesses to both the threat and promise of the Christ child.”
Let’s first consider the promise. When we meet the magi, they have travelled from afar, in search of the one who has been born king of the Jews. They inquire about the whereabouts of the newborn king in the place of Herod. It’s a logical place to begin—kings are born in royal palaces to royal families. They explain to Herod, who is king of the Jews, that they had seen a star that heralded this glad event—the birth of a new king, who would be the one to sit on Herod’s throne. They come bearing gifts, for their intent is to do homage to the new king, to bend the knee, to worship him.
Notice that outsiders are the first to see the Christ child: the magi are foreigners. When they find Jesus, they rejoice that have found the one they have been seeking!
The magi present their gifts of gold (a kingly tribute), frankincense (a priestly offering of incense) and myrrh (a precious balm used for preparing a body for burial). Gift giving is worship.
Where did they find the Christ child? Herod consulted with the clergy, who pointed to the place in scripture: Bethlehem in the land of Judah. This small town becomes the center of human aspirations and dreams, the city of God, in which Jesus, the Messiah, is king. To find that obscure provincial place, which sounds like it was a backwater Hicksville, they had to follow the star. There were no neon lights or illuminated road signs to show the way. They had to follow the star. For the child of the promise was hidden in poverty. The prayer book says that for our sake he became poor. A weakling, a nobody. They needed a sign from above, a divine sign, to find Jesus.
What about the star? It won’t help to seek a scientific explanation for how a star might appear and guide someone to the person they are seeking.
Barbara Brown Taylor writes: “It is not that the facts don’t matter. It is just that they don’t matter as much as the stories do, and stories can be true whether they happen or not. You do not have to do archaeology to find out if they are genuine or spend years in the library combing ancient texts. There is another way home. You just listen to the story. You let it come to life inside of you, and then you decide on the basis of your own tears or laughter whether the story is true. If you are in any doubt, it is always a good idea to watch other people who have listened to the story—just pay attention to how the story affects them over time. Does it make them more or less human? Does it open them up or shut them down? Does it increase their capacity for joy?”
The star is a symbol of direction and knowledge for the magi. It is a manifestation of God’s guidance, the light that shows them the way.
What star, what sign, what vision, guides and directs your life? What are the lights by which you see and navigate this world? The magi followed the star. I suppose, we, too, might look upon the stars on a clear winter night, and be filled with awe at the radiant beauty of the heavens and wonder at the vastness of the universe and our place in it (as I did as a youth), and ask where this world came from and what about me and my destiny? Is there a God who set the stars in the night skies and made this earth and everyone in it? And if so, as I asked as a young adult, when I was seeking my way, what is my purpose?
Let’s not get fixated on the stars. Some may find their focus closer to earth—in the garden: planting, pruning, and tending to the delicate lives of flowers and vegetables, our hands in the soil, immersed in the wonder of it all, the cycle of life—spring, summer, fall, and winter.
If you’re looking for a sign, any baby, any child, will serve. Our arms may hold a newborn and gaze in wonder. We may feel a new tenderness born in us, the surprise of a new love in our lives, and feel our lives to be upended and our priorities gloriously changed.
How about you? What are you seeking in the new year? What are you wishing for, hoping for, praying for?
Many voices will tell us what we can expect in the new year. Astrologers, futurists, social forecasters, influencers, and pundits will offer predictions about the future: what will happen, whose star will rise, what will trend, what we will eat and drink, wear and watch, and what teams will go all the way to the top. One prediction in particular recently caught my eye: Someone has predicted that in 2025 we will become “more accepting of wrinkles”—wrinkles will be in style!—that sounds like good news for me, and for everyone who is growing older, which, of course, is all of us.
There is another dimension to the Gospel story: Promise and threat usually go together. The Christ child is a threat to the status quo. According to Matthew, the people of Jerusalem and their religious and political leaders are plenty threatened by the astral birth announcement, especially Herod, who is king of the Jews, and who clearly perceived the magis’ news to be bad news for his career and tenure in office. What the poor receive as a promise, the powerful hear as a threat to their privileged position at the pinnacle of the social pyramid.
Herod tries to use the magi to find the child, whom he perceives as a threat. The help that he gives them is for the sake of his own selfish purposes, the protection of his power. After the magi have found the newborn king and paid homage to him, they will not return to Herod, having wised up to his intentions, having received a sign in a dream that they should go home by another road.
Tyrants respond to threats to their power with drastic measures: mass arrests, deportations, and killings. Herod, if we read on in the Gospel story, will order the murder of every infant in the vicinity of Bethlehem in order to eliminate the Holy One, who is hidden in poverty. Mary and Joseph, guided by an angel in a dream, will flee for their lives to Egypt and live as refugees in a foreign land, where they will rely on the hospitality of that country. Later, the angel will again appear in a dream to tell them that they may return to their homeland and to safety in Nazareth, where Jesus will grow in wisdom and stature.
All this goes a long way to explain why we might not dare to seek, to follow a divine sign all the way, as did the magi, as did Joseph and Mary. Even when we follow a star, when the signs of God’s will are unmistakable, we will meet with resistance. Others may perceive our walk with the Lord as a threat. Change is always threatening.
Have courage! In Matthew (7:7-8 KJV), in the Sermon on the Mount, our Lord encourages us to seek: “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.”
So, I ask you again: What are you seeking in the new year? Is it health? Is it hope? Are you looking for a sign? A sign of God’s presence in the midst of a challenging situation? Are you seeking God’s guidance and direction for your life? Christ’s call to you?
Here’s one place to begin: Perhaps what we are really seeking is Christ. Young and old, we want to go again in heart and mind to Bethlehem to see the thing which has come to pass and the babe lying in a manger. And the way to go there, to find the Christ child, who is hidden in poverty, is to consider the children who are in need of hope, care, love, compassion, and solidarity. What other children of God today need our attention and gifts? What light does the Gospel shine on our world? How might the Gospel help us to discern our way into the new year?
One final word of encouragement: In his holy gospel our Lord promises us: “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did it to me” (Matthew 25:40).
If we go to those in need—the hungry, the sick, the naked, the imprisoned, we will find him, Jesus, our shining star, the hope of our hurting world.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
The Rev. Gregory Bezilla