'In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in
Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, 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." When King Herod
heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; and calling together
all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the
Messiah was to be born. They told him, "In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it
has been written by the prophet:
`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.'"
Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned
from them the exact time when the star had appeared. 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."
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. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed
with joy. 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. And having been warned in a
dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.'
--Matthew 2: 1-12
When did you open your presents
for Christmas? On Christmas Eve,
Christmas Day? What if I told you that for centuries
nobody opened their gifts at Christmas?
Instead, the gift-giving was reserved for the Feast of the Epiphany (or Theophany, as it is called in the East). We celebrated that great feast on Sunday. If we think about it, saving the gifts until Epiphany makes sense; after all, the Magi gave their gifts to baby Jesus on that day, so why shouldn't we wait to do so as well? I'm going to guess, however, that none of you saved your presents to be opened on Epiphany. Still, there are plenty of lessons that the Epiphany has to teach us, beyond simply being the traditional gift-giving day and the one Sunday of the year that we sing We Three Kings.
A depiction of the Magi from the blog Lobe Log.
We’re told in the Gospel of
Matthew that wise people from the East—whom tradition would call Magi—came to
Jerusalem because they heard about a child who was born ‘king of the Jews.’ There’s a lot to unpack here. First, we don’t know exactly how many of them
there were, although three is the magic number because that’s how many gifts
are named, nor do we know their names, although tradition (again) would give them the names Caspar, Balthasar, and Melchior. What's more, we do not really know that they were all men, as the Greek could very well mean a mixed group of both wise men and wise women.
Nevertheless, we
do know that the Magi come from the East; that is, they come from the place of
darkness. In the ancient world it was
always assumed that only bad things came from the East, and in the history of
the Jewish people this was true because the empires of Babylon and Assyria were
in the East, and they had both conquered Israel several centuries earlier. The idea that someone from that part of the
world would come in peace was truly remarkable.
The cover of a publication entitled The East Is Evil, or Truths About Turkey.
Because they come from the East we can safely assume that not only do
they not speak the common language but also that they are not Jewish. Perhaps they are Zoroastrian, which is the
oldest religion in the world that worships a single god, or it could be that
their religion is firmly rooted in astrology, given that they see a star and
follow it first to Jerusalem and then to Jesus’ birthplace. Whatever their faith, they are not part of the story that has been told up to this point about God's work of salvation in the world. That story has been reserved for the children of Abraham, for the Jewish people. By coming to visit Jesus, the Magi open up the Good News of God's salvific relationship to all people of all religions.
Furthermore, in all of the depictions of the Magi, from
antiquity to today, they are depicted in flamboyant dress that is far from
customary for Jewish folks in those days. They certainly don't dress like the shepherds or the Holy Family. They are a strange lot and have odd customs, bringing gifts that none of us would ever think to give to a baby.
Just look at those robes!
Lastly, the Magi exercise civil disobedience by not returning to Herod. The jealous king wanted to use the Magi to his own ends, but they would have none of it. Thus, the Magi are foreigners who dress in an awkward fashion, have
different beliefs, speak a different language, bring odd gifts that nobody
asked for, and even disobey direct orders from a king. There’s clearly a
lot that the Magi can still teach us today.
The fact that the Magi are from the East, that they represent darkness and death, reminds us that we can also welcome the foreigner in our own midst. In a country ripe with xenophobia, we are tempted all too often to think that the folks "over there" would only bring crime, misery, and death were they to come and live among us. But just as Jesus' family welcomed the strangers from far away to the baby's cradle, we can do likewise.
The Magi being non-Jews reminds us that the story of God's salvation and love for this world is so much bigger than just one tribe, one religion. Just as the people in first century Palestine saw Gentiles as outsiders to the story of faith, Christians today have assumed that role, insistent that those who do not belong to our tribe cannot possibly comprehend the fullness of God's grace (nor that that grace is even accessible to them). If these Gentiles could recognize and respect the light of God that day in Bethlehem, can we not do the same for our non-Christian brothers and sisters?
The fact that the Magi are from the East, that they represent darkness and death, reminds us that we can also welcome the foreigner in our own midst. In a country ripe with xenophobia, we are tempted all too often to think that the folks "over there" would only bring crime, misery, and death were they to come and live among us. But just as Jesus' family welcomed the strangers from far away to the baby's cradle, we can do likewise.
The Magi being non-Jews reminds us that the story of God's salvation and love for this world is so much bigger than just one tribe, one religion. Just as the people in first century Palestine saw Gentiles as outsiders to the story of faith, Christians today have assumed that role, insistent that those who do not belong to our tribe cannot possibly comprehend the fullness of God's grace (nor that that grace is even accessible to them). If these Gentiles could recognize and respect the light of God that day in Bethlehem, can we not do the same for our non-Christian brothers and sisters?
The Magi’s strange ways, their
garish dress, their extravagant gifts that they give to Jesus, invite us to
open our own hearts to accept new traditions and customs, the same way the baby
Jesus and his family did. We have a tendency
to fear that which is different, that which is outrageous, simply because we
don’t understand it. A colleague of
mine, who is a gay man and an Episcopal priest, wrote an excellent post about
this day on the blog called Modern Metanoia that can be found here. In his post he notes how he
and other queer people are so often met with the same kinds of fear, especially
when they too express themselves with garish dress and extravagance. The Magi invite us to welcome such strangeness in our midst, and even to embrace the queerness of our own communities; after all, we wear dresses on Sundays, chant in weird languages, and throw smoke from our purses that are on-fire. Thanks to the Magi we can not only welcome those who are strange and different, but we can more fully embrace and appreciate the inherent queerness of our own tradition.
Lastly, story of the Magi
reminds us that no matter how many times individuals try to snuff out the light
of God’s grace and goodness—whether they be kings, governors, or common folk—they
will never succeed. Herod failed when he tried to use the Magi to advance his agenda to have his rival snuffed out. Like the Magi, we too are sometimes called to stand up to tyrants, to say, "No!" and to make no friends with oppression. Our God is a liberating God, who promises justice and peace for all people. Whenever a despot tries to further their aims by squashing the light of God in the world, it is up to the followers of Christ to be the ones to stand up to them and say no, to disobey when necessary, and to remind them that they cannot ever win.