Orchard Ridge United Church of Christ

Preached by Winton Boyd on December 23rd, 2008

Matthew 2:1-12

If theologian William Loader is right that the image of the wise men from the east kneeling before the Christ child, offering their gifts, has been an inspiring symbol of worship for countless generations – I am not sure what he would have thought of our house growing up. I am pretty sure every Christmas eve had the infamous bathrobe version of the wise men acted out, followed by a hearty rendition of We Three Kings of Orientar, tried to smoke a rubber cigar… You probably have your version of butchering the song and the story. Probably more than any of the other characters in the Christmas story, the wisemen, magi, star gazers – however many and whatever gender they were – have fascinated people. Loader is right in saying they do, in part, because they link Jesus to the wider world of the orient and to the mysteries of the heavens.
In truth, these mysterious figures from the east reflect the aspirations of Israel that one day the wise and the powerful would come to Zion (Jerusalem) to acknowledge Yahweh. These are variations on the theme of the Gentiles sharing in the blessings of Israel. They foreshadow the expansion of the mission from Israel to the Gentiles, to be announced in Matthew 28:18-20. The image of Gentiles bringing gifts also lies behind Paul’s prayers made among his Gentile converts. In some sense, therefore, the magi are representative of all of us who are non Jews.
This tradition is also seen in Isaiah 60:6, which speaks of gifts of gold and frankincense being brought to Zion; and Psalm 72 which speaks of kings coming bearing gifts of gold.
Another biblical band of threads flows from the wider story of Israel’s exodus from Egypt and especially of Moses.
• Like Israel this child and his family would go down into Egypt and return again to the promised land.
• The angel’s advice to Joseph to return (2:13-14, 19-20) echoes the words of God to Moses in Exodus 4:19-20.
• Herod’s slaughter of the innocents recalls Pharaoh’s slaughter of the Hebrew children.
• Jesus is like a new Israel, a new Moses.
At the same time, this story borrows on other common or known images found in the ancient world.
• Similar legends were told of famous people, including the account of a comparable delegation before the emperor Nero in 66 CE and, perhaps more relevant, before Herod the Great in 10 BCE.
• Astronomical phenomena are recorded at the births of Abraham, Pliny, Alexander the Great, Mithras and many others.
• A comet which appeared in 12/11 BCE in Gemini with its head towards Leo (seen by many as a symbol of Judah) might have heightened messianic expectation or, closer to the time, conjunctions of planets in 7 BCE and again in 6 BCE in the region of Pisces, traditionally associated with the Hebrews, might have done the same.
• Such stories were around.
BUT - Matthew’s version is more dramatic than both the prior biblical and cultural stories: the star moves across the sky and takes up station above the place where Jesus was born. The created world is being called to bear witness to this momentous event. The heavens declare the glory of God – in yet another way.
A statement is being made about Jesus’ ministry and the church: the gospel is to be taught to all nations. In his genealogy of Jesus – a geneology that only names fathers - Matthew subtly adds the names of 5 women –all of them gentiles or outsiders. In the same way he wants us to see here the deeper significance of the story. This is a celebration of inclusiveness. It is a tapestry of hope and of shame, of life and of death.
In its original writing, it became the story of the little people of Bethlehem, of the refugees who must flee their security, of rulers who are anxious and fear change; and of people like most of us, who are seen as wise and educated and are able to offer ourselves and our gifts. Among these characters and realities, we are invited to kneel and place ourselves. We are invited to see this as our story.
What would our gifts be?
One of the first gifts is to acknowledge to ourselves and to others that it is important to move beyond a superficial reading of the story and to acknowledge that we know of Herod and we know of today’s world and it is into this fabric that we live and breathe this story.
I realized the other night that every year I go through a cycle in the season of Advent. Coming off the heels of Thanksgiving, my favorite holiday, Advent starts with the promise of light coming in the darkness and it pulls me ever so gently into its rhythm. But over the course of 4 weeks, there are more and more attacks on the power of the story.
• Sometimes it is the crash commercialization of Christmas.
• Sometimes it is the frenetic energy of life and school and children and self that pull me off center and keeps me distracted and unable, for example, to even read the devotionals we hand out.
• Sometimes, frankly, it is the sugary Christmas music played in stores, on the radio.
• More recently, I have become weary of the constant cultural battle about nativity scenes in public spaces, holiday or Christmas trees, or the attack by heathens on our Christmas celebrations.
I find that sometime in third week of Advent – which this year caught me on Thursday - I am starting to get cranky – cranky that in the midst of all these cultural struggles, I am losing sight of the power of the season.
Somewhere in these final days I realize the toll these diversions are taking on my spirit and re-orient and refocus in a way to remember once again that all of these Christmas stories are our stories – the stories of our lives.
The point is not to obsess about my emotional or intellectual ruminations – but to highlight that the first gift to ourselves and to the world is keep the power in these stories alive – in our hearts, in our families and homes, among our loved ones. While this is a multifaceted season – of stress and loneliness, of family and memories, of celebrations and gifts – it is first and foremost a powerful, and perennial story of light breaking into darkness, of false kingdoms being put on notice that their reign is not eternal. It is an invitation to open ourselves to that story.
But beyond that, the story of the magi is also a renewed invitation to think about the gifts we have to offer?

There is a former colleague of my wife Tammy’s, who had a special and thoughtful way of giving gifts. He kept a small note card in his wallet all year – and every time one of his loved ones would talk about something they liked, or something they wanted – he would jot down a little note to himself. As the time for Christmas gifts came around – he would use that note card to select a gift – one that they he knew THEY wanted – not something rushed, poorly thought through, or as is often the case with children – something they want themselves rather than what the recipient might want! What I love about that practice is the intentionality, the thoughtfulness, and the spirit of listening that makes it work.

Spiritual discernment recognizes that if we are to give our best selves, our best intentions to God and to others – that we will take time to listen, to watch, to be still before the world. In the story of the Magi – the actual “giving of the gifts” is a small portion of the story – following years of travel, years of preparation, years of intentionality. How can we live with the same sense of intentionality, the same sense of awe? Might we make time this Christmas to ponder how we give our best selves, our most authentic selves to the great work of God in our lives? Might we slow down enough to listen for the work of the Spirit around us, within us and through us – in so doing embody yet still the power of light in dark places, hope among fearful refugees and joy in places of pain and despair.

Text for this sermon

2:1 In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem,
2 asking, “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.”
3 When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him;
4 and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born.
5 They told him, “In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet:
6 ‘And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel.’”
7 Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared.
8 Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, “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.”
9 When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was.
10 When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy.
11 On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
12 And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.