The True Gift of the Magi

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?

Epiphany is not about historical facts like whether the star was real (astronomers can find no trace of it) or if the Magi actually did come (they are never mentioned again in any Christian text).  Fact isn't the point.  Truth is.  The truth of Epiphany is that the light of God's love has broken into the world and is available for all the world to see.  No one is excluded.  No one is beyond that love.  And even those who are not part of our own personal faith stories are to be valued, honored, and recognized for who they are:  bearers of the light of God's Epiphany.  May we invite and welcome the Magi in our midst as Jesus' family did, and may we go and be Magi ourselves, eager to find the holy and to honor it.  This is the gift the Magi have given us. This is the good news of Epiphany for all people!

Lessons in Maturity from a 12-Year Old

'The parents of Jesus went to Jerusalem every year for the festival of the Passover. And when he was twelve years old, they went up as usual for the festival. When the festival was ended and they started to return, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem, but his parents did not know it. Assuming that he was in the group of travelers, they went a day's journey. Then they started to look for him among their relatives and friends. When they did not find him, they returned to Jerusalem to search for him. After three days they found him in the temple, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. And all who heard him were amazed at his understanding and his answers. When his parents saw him they were astonished; and his mother said to him, "Child, why have you treated us like this? Look, your father and I have been searching for you in great anxiety." He said to them, "Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father's house?" But they did not understand what he said to them. Then he went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them. His mother treasured all these things in her heart. And Jesus increased in wisdom and in years, and in divine and human favor.'

--Luke 2: 41-52

An Eastern icon of the child Jesus in the Temple.

There is quite a lot that we can unpack from this story of 12 year old Jesus in the Temple. The first thing we might think is that Mary and Joseph are just the worst parents. How could they lose the Son of God?!  Well, to be fair to them, a journey of importance like going up to the Temple for Passover would’ve been done with a group of possibly hundreds of people, mostly relatives, caravanning from Nazareth. It would’ve been easy to assume that Jesus was just with another one of those relatives.  

Yeah, but he’s only 12, we might say.  Why would they not keep a closer eye on him?  He’s a kid and bound to wander off like every other 12 year old boy.  We have to remember, though, that 12 years old in 1st century Jewish culture is not 12 years old in 21st century Western Christian culture; in fact, it was considered the beginning of adulthood and technically still is, marked by the celebration of a bar mitzvah for a boy and a bat mitzvah for a girl. So to expect Jesus to be following behind or leaving the Temple at the appropriate time would not have been unreasonable if his parents were expecting him to act like any other adult. Let's cut Mary and Joseph some slack.  They aren’t as bad at parenting as we might initially think.

What I appreciate most about this story is how it characterizes a young Jesus. A common misconception when retelling this story is for folks to say that pre-teen Jesus was teaching in the Temple. This often inspires us, imagining a young person so filled with wisdom that even the old rabbis gather around him to hear what he has to say. As a young clergy person, I totally dig the image of the youngest person in the room teaching a room of older folks who are actually listening to him! But if we look a little closer at the text we notice that Jesus isn’t teaching! He’s listening. More than that, he’s asking questions. Sure, those around him are amazed at his understanding and his answers to their questions, but it’s the listening and asking questions that seem to define Jesus at this critical point of transition in his young life.  This is, after all, the last time we will see Jesus until his baptism, at which point he is presumed to be in his early 30s. 

In a way, though, I suppose we could say that Jesus is teaching in the Temple, just not the way we might expect. He may not be giving a lecture or taking the traditional rabbi's position, but he is teaching by example.  What he teaches, therefore, are two very important skills:  the ability to listen and the ability to ask questions. How many of us really cultivate these two qualities in our lives?  How often do we just nod in agreement with someone when they’re speaking, or reply back, with a personal opinion or statement, rather than an inquisitive, qualifying question?  Rather than a conversation, it seems we are more engaged in a kind of verbal tennis match, just passing our personal takes back and forth between one another. I worked in a summer camp prior to seminary, and when I asked the director for one last piece of advice before I started he told me to listen more than I speak, and to ask more questions.

I don’t think it’s a mistake that Jesus is 12 years old and exhibiting these qualities. As far as his culture is concerned, he’s an adult, and here we see him showing a level of emotional and spiritual maturity the likes of which we cannot imagine from a 12 year old, let alone from someone much, much older. What the young Jesus is teaching us is how to be emotionally and spiritually mature people ourselves. We do not grow in maturity when all we do is speak. We do not grow in maturity when all we do is make statements and mild observations. We grow in maturity by intentionally listening to one another, not just hearing words that are coming out of someone's mouth.  This is especially true when we are engaged in heated conversations with people with whom we disagree. This is holy listening and holy questioning in which Jesus is engaged. Our culture today is not concerned with holy listening and questioning.  Our culture is more concerned with who can have the last word in a Facebook comment thread, or who can have the wittiest, snarkiest comeback to someone. We’re not concerned with asking questions or trying to understand where the other is coming from, only repeating our own experiences and positions, effectively gaslighting and silencing the other. Some might be quick to label this an immature attitude reflective of millennial or Gen-Z culture, but this millennial will remind you that my social media feed shows every generation guilty of neglecting the most basic principles of listening and asking questions. Especially after the week we just experienced in our nation, we desperately need to remember those principles. It’s not about age, it’s about maturity. We learn this, ironically, from a 12 year old kid.

If Christmas is, indeed, about us sharing the divine life with the One who humbled himself to share our humanity, then right here, in the person of a pre-teenager we have the divine coming among our condition so that we can understand and put on the divine condition. When the divine condition was among us, he listened to people and asked questions. The divine condition was characterized by an inquisitive spirit, one that sought to understand more than to be understood, borrowing words from Saint Francis. So how will we learn from Jesus?  Maybe we can be more interested in listening than speaking. Maybe we can ask more questions than we give statements. Maybe in doing so we can grow ourselves and show the level of emotional and spiritual maturity of 12-year old Jesus.