I just love thinking about the Magi, the wise men, the kings—these icons of curious faith. I admit, I’m going to wander around a bit in this morning’s sermon, because there’s just so much I could talk about; the magi themselves were wanderers too, so I hope that’s ok.
What do we know about the characters in this morning’s story? Centuries of tradition have built up around them. According to the songs and paintings and lore, they are three kings of the Orient, perhaps by the names of Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar; we imagine them riding across the desert on three lone camels under a starlit sky, bearing their gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And yet close readings of the Bible story itself casts doubt on those traditions. Of these elements I’ve mentioned, the gifts appear in Matthew’s account, but that’s about it. Matthew doesn’t call them kings, but rather magi in Greek—astrologers who sought meaning and wisdom in the stars, hence our translation calls them “Wise Men.” Matthew says nothing of how many magi there were; there might have been three or thirty—he only tells us that there were three gifts. The traditional names and the identity of the magi come from opaque references in Psalm 72 and Isaiah 60, but we don’t really know who they were. In light of the pace and difficulty of travel, it is likely that the real image of their journey is not of three lone riders on camels, but rather a caravan, with servants and supplies, for they would have been on the way for a long time. And what happens when they got to the manger? Our nativitiy sets usually suggest that the magi are crowded around the manger along with the shepherds. Matthew seems to know nothing of the shepherds; the timing of this account suggest the magi might have arrived days, even weeks or months later. There is so much about these characters and this story that is shrouded in mystery and lost to time.
You may worry that these discrepancies kill the story, but for me its quite the opposite. For me all of the unknowns add to the mystery, the curiosity, the wonder of these magi. Whoever they were, they were motivated to travel a great distance following a Star in search of a child. Why? What made them go? At least one thing is sure: these were the original seekers of faith in Christ; they were deeply curious people, determined to be surprised by whatever God might have to show them.
What do the magi have to do with us? Well thanks to these original seekers, if you too seek greater faith and greater connection to God, there is almost certainly something in this story for you. If we ever feel like outsiders when it comes to matters of faith, well, so were they. They were not Jewish like Jesus and they certainly weren’t Christian, since that hadn’t come along yet. When they knelt down to pay him homage, who knows what traditions or background they brought. If you’ve ever been confused by the traditions or beliefs of church, if you’ve ever wondered how to pray or what you might say or do if you actually met Jesus; if you’ve ever wondered if you really belong here—these magi are probably your people.
At the same time, we can’t call them outsiders altogether, for these magi were clearly people of some wealth and influence who moved with confidence in the world. When the Star appears, they are able to drop everything and assemble a caravan for the journey; they bring gifts, they gain an audience with the local king to ask for directions; when they arrive they announce themselves and the purpose of their visit: “We have seen his star at it’s rising and have come to pay him homage.” They may bow and humble themselves at the manger, but these magi are not timid—they expect to be welcomed. So its also true that if you’ve been in church much of your life and show up on Sunday knowing what to expect, well, the magi might be your people too. But like the magi, we too might need to be ready to find in Jesus something different than what we expected.
For the next few weeks, I’ll be talking about the question, “Who is Jesus?” Who is this child that has been born in a manger? So far as the story of the magi tells us, we know a few things about him: First of all, we know some things that he is not. He is clearly not bound by religious convention, for no one in this story is a religious insider. Nor is Jesus the kind of king we are used to—he is not inaccessible in a palace with riches, but right before us in a manger—so we know that he welcomes everyone. Perhaps most of all, the story of the magi tells us that Jesus is One worthy of our wonder and our curiosity, and who he is cannot be summed up easily. Found at the end of a long journey under a mysterious Star, he will not be anything we can easily know or grasp or put into a box. He challenges us to be curious—knowing him begins only with a long journey.
There’s a traditional name that goes along with this Sunday shortly after Christmas—we call it Epiphany. Epiphany means “manifestation” or “appearance.” According to this story, the light of the Star guides the magi to an appearance of Jesus—an encounter with God. So for my own life and for yours, this story asks a question: how are you being drawn into an experience of God?
It can happen in so many ways.
For some of us, it’s about being part of the curiosity we see in the magi. What is the curious Star in your life? What are you tempted to follow, to go and check out, such that your spiritual life might be deepened? For all of time, people have followed mysteries and even stars in search of something deeper, something new, some knowledge and wisdom—sometimes quite literally. Galileo did so in days gone by, as did the makers of the James Webb telescope in our own time; Isaac Newton years ago and Carl Sagan in our own day linked their seeking in the stars to questions of truth, beauty, and meaning. These are the seekers, the questioners, the doubters who saw possibilities in the stars. Their lives, like this story of the magi are metaphorical for faith. Where might you be led if you look and listen for God and hope to be have an encounter? It might begin with a star, but maybe with some other mystery entirely. Just as it once was with Jesus in the manger, still today, God is looking for willing seekers. Be curious! Where might faith lead you?
For some of us, the questions that come from this story are not only curious, but they are difficult and challenging. They are found on the more threatening side of mystery, where things we find confound and trouble us. Sometimes the Bible takes us from the sweet, harmless nativity scenes of a suburban Christmas, into deeper questions as we encounter with God. What do I mean? Here are a couple of possibilities: As I said before, the wonderful story of the magi is for everyone. But what about those in our own world who seem to be left out?
What is Christmas for the children in our own city whose homes have no nativity scenes, no decorations at all, let alone adequate beds or food to eat, or a place to live without fear. How does the love of Christ appear to them? Are we willing to be troubled by that?
Another example: A part of this story is the frightening, death dealing participation of King Herod. The story tells us the magi were deeply frightened of him, and went home another way. Herod is driven by his fear and jealousy to massacre innocent children, and so the Holy Family flees to Egypt. Many in our own time have asked how that part of the story meets real people: those in Gaza and the West Bank of today—including the very city of Bethlehem. In the homeland of Jesus, a modern massacre has been underway for more than a year, with thousands of innocent children who would flee to Egypt if only they could.
What about even more forgotten parts of the world, in Central Africa, for instance, where on this year’s Epiphany there are more armed conflicts targeting civilians than at any other time we can remember.
We often prefer to ignore these tragedies. The magi would have preferred not to meet Herod. But the tragedies too are part of God’s world. Are any of today’s innocent, suffering people less deserving of meeting Jesus than you and me? Christmas is meant to challenge us, if we are willing. Can we take the leap from carols and gifts to Jesus’ demands for peace and justice? Will you go there with this child who has been born to us? Sometimes curiosity takes us to places we do not wish to go.
Every time I step into the pulpit, I’m aware of the wide variety of people who are listening, even in this little room. Some of you come to church wanting a challenge, or needing one—and others might be struggling mightily and in need not of challenge, but the comfort of Christ. I like to believe that in the richness of these stories, God gives each of us what we need, even if I as a preacher cannot. A great blessing of the Christmas story is the variety of characters we find within it—and every one of them belongs. Some of us are eager to talk about stars and dreams and mysteries and their meanings; others of us are more eager to talk about suffering and injustice. For others, faith is something else entirely. The magi, the shepherds—however numerous they might have been—all of them were invited to follow the Star in their own way, because all of us are children of God. In what way is this story a challenge for you?
We try a lot of things here at Knox to bring people closer to God. Some of them will work for you; some will not. As we live in the light of Christmas and begin a new year, I challenge you with today’s story, to be curious, to wonder where your spiritual life is leading you? What star are you following—or perhaps trying not to follow? Is faith for you an exercise or head or of heart, or of the work of your hands and feet? Is there one of those ways in which you need to be pushed? What are you being called to do, or maybe just slow down and think about for the first time? I pray that you will wonder about that not just on your own but with other members of this community. Who is God for you? A caring parent? An arbitrary and distant clockmaker? A welcoming friend? An angry judge? Have you ever really thought about it? Who is this Jesus in the manger? We are in the season of Epiphany—a time for encountering God. How will you be curious about faith? Amen.