This past Sunday my church celebrated the Feast of the Epiphany, the culmination of a Christmas festivities, complete with a wonderful and hilarious pageant from our children at our 10:30 service. Still, the early birds at the 8:00 service needed a sermon, so this is reflection is what I offered.
I asked them this: What if I told you that we have been doing this Christmas
thing all wrong? What if I told you that for nearly 2000
years it was Epiphany, not Christmas, that was the big celebration, with gift
giving and merriment abounding; in fact, Epiphany was considered the second
most holy day of the entire year—behind Easter—and was the only service apart
from the Easter Vigil where folks got baptized.
What happened to poor Epiphany?!
Well, a bunch of factors from
Charles Dickens to Hallmark, from Protestantism to capitalism, all led to an isolated Christmas and the phenomenon
now that, rather than celebrating for two weeks starting ON Christmas Day, we
celebrate in the days leading up to Christmas Day. Epiphany has become a forgotten holiday. Yet while we may have forgotten the celebratory
particularities of Epiphany, we cannot, we must not, forget just how important
this day is in the life of our Christian faith.
'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
It’s a day marked by a very peculiar
story that is found only in Matthew's Gospel. Who are these guys that
come to see the baby in his home in Bethlehem—and yes, I say home because
according to Matthew not only was Jesus born in a house instead of a stable,
but the holy family lived in Bethlehem until their time as refugees in Egypt,
only settling in Nazareth afterwards.
The figures who come to see the child are called wise men in our
translation, but we have a whole song about them called We Three Kings. They are, in fact, neither of these things. The term Magi, which is used in to describe them in the the original text, is the Greek word used for priests from Persia, whose leaning was chiefly astrology and enchantment; after all, they
follow a star to get to where the child is.
In other words, they’re sorcerers from Iran, folks who were clearly not
Jewish—most likely Zoroastrian, which is the world’s oldest monotheistic
religion. Matthew doesn’t tell us exactly
how many they are, but he does name three of the gifts they bring: gold, frankincense, and myrrh, all of which say something about who this child will become. Gold represents his kingship, frankincense his divinity, and myrrh his mortality.
What is most significant about the Magi is that they are not part of the story up to this point. They are outsiders, not only Gentiles but a kind of Gentile that the Palestinian Jews of the 1st century rarely encountered. Strictly speaking, they have no business coming to Bethlehem at all, yet they understand that this is a holy moment, a time when God is breaking through into human history, and though it may not be connected to their own faiths of origin, they are able to recognize that divine presence. Thus, they come to honor Jesus, not because they are converting to anything, but instead because they see the holy in this moment.
The Magi have a lot to teach us. They are folks like my friend Muhammad, the local imam, who comes to our church from time to time and speaks of the love of God that he witnesses in our midst. We are not eager to convert him, no more so than his congregation is to convert me when I attend one of their Friday prayer services. He sees the holy in our midst and honors it.
When this story was first shared, Christians found solace in the idea that the story of God's love and mercy was bigger than the story of Israel. Now, however, it seems that we have forgotten this essential lesson of the Magi's visit. We who are the dominant religion on the planet have forgotten that the story of God's love and mercy is bigger also than us! God is bigger than any single religion or group of people. This is what we learn from the Magi. We learn how to be Magi ourselves. Where is the holy, and how will we go and honor it? Is there a mosque, a synagogue, a temple, where we Christians can go, not to convert anyone, but to witness the divine, to share in the very presence of God?
