Isaiah 60:1-6
Matthew 2:1-12
We don’t often read these passages because we rarely have worship on Epiphany Day—unless it falls on a Sunday. Epiphany Day is January 6—the twelfth day of Christmas. In the early church, it was the day used to celebrate Jesus’ birth, his baptism as an adult, as well as his first miracle recorded in John—turning water into wine at the wedding at Cana. It wasn’t until the 4th Century that the birth of Jesus began being celebrated closer to the winter solstice—probably in order to adapt to pagan worship practices among other peoples and nations.
But Epiphany was always a celebration of God revealing God’s self to the world—through the birth of the Messiah, through the baptism at which God formally and verbally claimed him as son, through the miracles and ministry Jesus did. So, Epiphany naturally became a time to celebrate, as well, the magi from Asia coming to worship this king who seemed to even change the patterns of the stars.
The magi—religious leaders of Zoroastrianism—were astronomers. They looked to the sky for signs of changes in the world. They were men and women, and they probably traveled as a large caravan because there is safety in numbers, and it would have been a dangerous trip. So, imagine, instead of three old men on camels, dozens of men and women making their way to Israel, bringing their gifts to commemorate such a significant shift in the world’s history.
And while we’re clearing up what Scripture says versus the legends and myths built around it, let’s sort out a few other things. The star appeared when Jesus was born. It would have taken the magi months, if not more than a year, to make it from their homes to Bethlehem. So, while we like to imagine them standing there in a stable surrounded by donkeys and sheep and the shepherds who were just told about the birth by angels, the holy family would have been living in a home. Jesus would have been a small toddler, crawling around and keeping his parents hopping, sleeping with his mother or in a proper crib.
So, the magi follow the star to Israel, and naturally, they go straight to the capital city—to the palace. They’re there to celebrate the birth of a king. Or a prince, they suspect. And they ask Herod about the new baby. It’s kind of like asking a woman when she’s due before you actually know if she’s pregnant. Foot. In. Mouth.
But Herod covers his shock and anger and fear and consults his own religious leaders about this. Surely Scripture has something to say about a king being born—especially if it isn’t in the current king’s household. They do their research and come up with Bethlehem…the city of David, the rightful and greatest king Israel has ever known. Uh oh.
And so, Herod fears his time on the throne may be finished…unless he can do something about this child. The text says that “Herod was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him.” That’s equivalent to saying, “The President was frightened, and all Washington with him.” Meaning the other political leaders who support and benefit from the current leadership. It’s not referring to the common folks of the city.
And why were they frightened? Because God has just challenged the status quo. What has been will no longer be the case. All those who have lived well because of the current state of things will potentially be revealed—for their corruption, their greed, their false power, their privilege. They will be brought down. And those who have been vulnerable to the ways of leadership will rise up. Herod and his legion are afraid of an uprising—a coup—a takeover of power by the people. He’s rightfully afraid. He hasn’t been the king the people needed nor the king that God designed. He was a ruler for himself and his supporters. He was beholden to the powers of Rome. He was a sham. A figurehead. And he knew it. But he thrived on the position and its power. And no one was going to kick him off that throne—not if he could help it.
So, he sent the magi in the right direction and asked them to come back and tell them where he would find this child so that he could worship him, too. He must have had some real charisma to con these travelers because anyone as slimy as he seems would be so obvious. They go, they present Jesus and his family with their gifts, and then God warns them in a dream to return home by a different route. Take the long way home. Don’t go back. And they obey.
Once they’ve seen true power, true glory, true God, there is no going back. In the face of Jesus, the cunningness of Herod is revealed. In the face of Jesus, the ugliness of greed and pride and ill-gotten power is made known. In the face of Jesus, the world takes on a different look, and the magi can see things as they are.
What do we see in the face of Jesus? Do we see an opportunity to solidify our standing? Do we see the potential to exploit the gospel for our own advantage? Or do we see love? Tenderness? Joy? Hope? Do we look on him for a moment and then turn back to our old ways, striving to get back to business, take care of ourselves, and get on with our lives until the next crisis shakes us up? Or do we gaze on him? Does he draw us into a different way of viewing the world, ourselves, and others? Will he change our paths and our lives, or just become a blip on our radar—something to be dealt with until Christmas comes around again next year?
I guess it depends on where we’re standing. For those of us who stand in places likely to be shaken when the mighty fall, we can’t help but look at Jesus with a fair bit of fear. He is going to challenge our way of life. He is going to mess up our fragile system of quid pro quo. He’s going to take the little sense of control we think we have out of our hands.
But for those of us who stand among the piles of lives destroyed by this world’s power, the revelation of Jesus is good news. And we will look at him with hope and longing, not fear. Because he will rebuild relationships that have been destroyed by greed, hate, and anger. He will lift up the lowly and bring down the powerful. He will give sight to those who cannot yet see. He will heal the broken and liberate the oppressed. He will set the captive free and feed those who hunger and thirst. To all who are in need, Jesus the Messiah brings good news. To those who think they need nothing from God, Jesus the Messiah is a threat.
And to those who seek the good news of a new day, they will be forever changed. For one cannot look upon the face of Jesus and return to old ways and half-lives. All who worship him will discover a new way home.
Pastor Tobi White
Our Saviour's Lutheran Church
Lincoln, NE
Matthew 2:1-12
We don’t often read these passages because we rarely have worship on Epiphany Day—unless it falls on a Sunday. Epiphany Day is January 6—the twelfth day of Christmas. In the early church, it was the day used to celebrate Jesus’ birth, his baptism as an adult, as well as his first miracle recorded in John—turning water into wine at the wedding at Cana. It wasn’t until the 4th Century that the birth of Jesus began being celebrated closer to the winter solstice—probably in order to adapt to pagan worship practices among other peoples and nations.
But Epiphany was always a celebration of God revealing God’s self to the world—through the birth of the Messiah, through the baptism at which God formally and verbally claimed him as son, through the miracles and ministry Jesus did. So, Epiphany naturally became a time to celebrate, as well, the magi from Asia coming to worship this king who seemed to even change the patterns of the stars.
The magi—religious leaders of Zoroastrianism—were astronomers. They looked to the sky for signs of changes in the world. They were men and women, and they probably traveled as a large caravan because there is safety in numbers, and it would have been a dangerous trip. So, imagine, instead of three old men on camels, dozens of men and women making their way to Israel, bringing their gifts to commemorate such a significant shift in the world’s history.
And while we’re clearing up what Scripture says versus the legends and myths built around it, let’s sort out a few other things. The star appeared when Jesus was born. It would have taken the magi months, if not more than a year, to make it from their homes to Bethlehem. So, while we like to imagine them standing there in a stable surrounded by donkeys and sheep and the shepherds who were just told about the birth by angels, the holy family would have been living in a home. Jesus would have been a small toddler, crawling around and keeping his parents hopping, sleeping with his mother or in a proper crib.
So, the magi follow the star to Israel, and naturally, they go straight to the capital city—to the palace. They’re there to celebrate the birth of a king. Or a prince, they suspect. And they ask Herod about the new baby. It’s kind of like asking a woman when she’s due before you actually know if she’s pregnant. Foot. In. Mouth.
But Herod covers his shock and anger and fear and consults his own religious leaders about this. Surely Scripture has something to say about a king being born—especially if it isn’t in the current king’s household. They do their research and come up with Bethlehem…the city of David, the rightful and greatest king Israel has ever known. Uh oh.
And so, Herod fears his time on the throne may be finished…unless he can do something about this child. The text says that “Herod was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him.” That’s equivalent to saying, “The President was frightened, and all Washington with him.” Meaning the other political leaders who support and benefit from the current leadership. It’s not referring to the common folks of the city.
And why were they frightened? Because God has just challenged the status quo. What has been will no longer be the case. All those who have lived well because of the current state of things will potentially be revealed—for their corruption, their greed, their false power, their privilege. They will be brought down. And those who have been vulnerable to the ways of leadership will rise up. Herod and his legion are afraid of an uprising—a coup—a takeover of power by the people. He’s rightfully afraid. He hasn’t been the king the people needed nor the king that God designed. He was a ruler for himself and his supporters. He was beholden to the powers of Rome. He was a sham. A figurehead. And he knew it. But he thrived on the position and its power. And no one was going to kick him off that throne—not if he could help it.
So, he sent the magi in the right direction and asked them to come back and tell them where he would find this child so that he could worship him, too. He must have had some real charisma to con these travelers because anyone as slimy as he seems would be so obvious. They go, they present Jesus and his family with their gifts, and then God warns them in a dream to return home by a different route. Take the long way home. Don’t go back. And they obey.
Once they’ve seen true power, true glory, true God, there is no going back. In the face of Jesus, the cunningness of Herod is revealed. In the face of Jesus, the ugliness of greed and pride and ill-gotten power is made known. In the face of Jesus, the world takes on a different look, and the magi can see things as they are.
What do we see in the face of Jesus? Do we see an opportunity to solidify our standing? Do we see the potential to exploit the gospel for our own advantage? Or do we see love? Tenderness? Joy? Hope? Do we look on him for a moment and then turn back to our old ways, striving to get back to business, take care of ourselves, and get on with our lives until the next crisis shakes us up? Or do we gaze on him? Does he draw us into a different way of viewing the world, ourselves, and others? Will he change our paths and our lives, or just become a blip on our radar—something to be dealt with until Christmas comes around again next year?
I guess it depends on where we’re standing. For those of us who stand in places likely to be shaken when the mighty fall, we can’t help but look at Jesus with a fair bit of fear. He is going to challenge our way of life. He is going to mess up our fragile system of quid pro quo. He’s going to take the little sense of control we think we have out of our hands.
But for those of us who stand among the piles of lives destroyed by this world’s power, the revelation of Jesus is good news. And we will look at him with hope and longing, not fear. Because he will rebuild relationships that have been destroyed by greed, hate, and anger. He will lift up the lowly and bring down the powerful. He will give sight to those who cannot yet see. He will heal the broken and liberate the oppressed. He will set the captive free and feed those who hunger and thirst. To all who are in need, Jesus the Messiah brings good news. To those who think they need nothing from God, Jesus the Messiah is a threat.
And to those who seek the good news of a new day, they will be forever changed. For one cannot look upon the face of Jesus and return to old ways and half-lives. All who worship him will discover a new way home.
Pastor Tobi White
Our Saviour's Lutheran Church
Lincoln, NE
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