Unwrapping the Layers

Epiphany 2020 Matthew 2:1-12

            Our grandson, Alex, will turn 10 this month. At our family Christmas gathering just a little over a week ago, a gift he received was wrapped in a very special way. Tearing through the paper that wrapped his gift, he found – another layer of wrapping paper. He tore through that layer of paper and revealed another. He tore through that one, and you can guess – there was yet another layer of wrap, and on and on it went through a dozen layers covering his new book.

            Alex is old enough to have had great fun with this, and to have been a great sport about it, never getting frustrated, only more excited as he made his way through each layer, until he reached the real gift.

            The Gospel of Jesus Christ is a lot like that gift, with layer after layer of meaningful history and detail wrapped around the God’s greatest gift to us.

Today is the Twelfth Day of Christmas, the eve of the day we – and much of the Christian world celebrates as the Epiphany. Today we read of the coming of the magi, and God’s work in and through them. The Gospels reveal to us the various ways in which God is revealed or ways in which God reveals something essential through the real gift of Christmas, Jesus.  

            The magi represent yet one more layer of wrapping removed as we seek the meaning of the ongoing gift of Jesus to the world.

Contrary to popular and traditional images of them, the strange visitors from a foreign land were neither kings – magi were more like magicians or astrologers or even men who belonged to a priestly caste from the Eastern religion, Zoroastrianism – nor do we know for sure how many of them there were – the Church probably settled on the number three because three gifts are listed in the gospel, though many Orthodox denominations have twelve magi who came.

Thanks to the King James translation of the bible, the magi are often referred to as “wise men”.  What makes them “wise” however, isn’t their background or origins, but their obedience to the divine message given to them in a dream, not to return to Herod but to go home avoiding him – and to seek the child worthy of their homage. The Bible doesn’t name them – though again, tradition has filled in that detail and given them the names Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar.

            What we do know is that they were likely wealthy, were certainly Gentiles, they came a great distance from the eastern part of the continent, and they came because of astral events or signs they observed in the heavens. Finally, we know that they were compelled to follow those signs until they arrived in Bethlehem of Judea. There, asking around, they finally discover the Holy Family, and worship the Holy Child.

            Jesus is that child, born into a dark, dangerous, and inhospitable world. Herod the Great was a vassal king of Rome. He did not come to power through a royal line of succession and could therefore be considered an unqualified or illegitimate king by those he was sent to rule over. He was therefore particularly sensitive and insecure in his ability to hold on to his power and became fearful when he heard a child born in Bethlehem was being identified as “king of the Jews”.

Of course, we know that it was not his intent to worship, but to murder Jesus. And we know that being unable to find him, he ordered the murder of the innocents – all those baby boys two years and under found to have been born in the region identified by the magi. In his insecurity, through his fear, Herod represents the evil and darkness that work to deny Jesus his rightful place and purpose.

            But God will not be thwarted. God makes himself known through his divine Son, Jesus Christ. The magi know it. And we who believe in Jesus know it. And through this story we become aware that God’s love and salvation are sent not just to a select group of people, the Jews, but to the whole world.

God is there through the darkness and in the light.

            And, God has made his love and mercy plain to us in the Holy Child, Jesus Christ, our Savior.

We still live in a dark, dangerous, and inhospitable world. We still live in a world where those in power are insecure and fearful of losing their power. We live in a world that still seeks to extinguish the true grace and hope of God, who broke the power of death and illumines the way to life and immortality through the Good News of Jesus Christ. But the Epiphany makes plain to us the power of God to thwart evil and grant us his goodness and mercy.  

            For God saves us and calls us to live a holy life; to discern the false claims of divinity and favor on any human being. Through layers of grace God will defeat those who seek to do evil to the innocent of the world and on those who believe in him. By shining the light of His glory, which leads the way to Jesus, God reveals his plan to save us, a plan centered in godly grace and love.

            When we look upon Jesus, and when we come to know his words and deeds, God’s character is shown to us. Through the layers of his teaching, his example, and his cross, God’s character and plan for us are revealed. When we meditate upon his sacrificial death, and when his resurrection is revealed to us, Jesus uncovers God’s compassion and mercy to us.

            In our relationship with Jesus, our Lord and our King, God is revealed through our own merciful deeds; in Christ-like love that shapes our words, our actions, our thoughts and our prayers, His love is known. Our devotion to Jesus is shown as we die to sin and serve as his compassionate hands and heart to the poor, the despised, the weak and the rejected people of the world.

            God delivers hope to the hopeless in the light of eternal life given to those facing death, and to those persecuted, wounded, and murdered because of their religion, race, or identity, and those who stand for God’s forgiveness and mercy.

            The Good News of Epiphany is that as God once revealed himself through the small child of Bethlehem and through the gifts offered him by the magi, God continues to reveal himself through the ongoing gifts he gives through Jesus. As we linger in the light of the star, let us renew our commitment to sharing this good news with the world.

Amen.

             

             

           

           

           

Kings, Sheep, and the Stars in their Courses

Matthew 2:1-12

 Today we celebrate the epiphany, that is, the revelation of Jesus as the Messiah, the light of world, revealed in our gospel lesson by a star that shines overhead. And in our gospel story, strangers – foreigners from another land – outsiders in fact, become key witnesses to both the threat and promise of the Christ child. The question for us today, is this: how will we witness to the light that shines in this world through this Jesus who abides in us and guides the way of the church?

There is a lectionary comic strip called Agnus Day that I occasionally share postings of on Grace’s Facebook page.

It features two “sheep” named Rick and Ted, who we get to listen in on as they meet up at coffee fellowship after church each week. There, they comment on the lessons, usually the Gospel heard in church that day. Rick is Ted’s mentor and tries to help unravel the mystery of the text by answering Ted’s on-point questions. The cartoon is the creation of a Lutheran pastor and can provide some chuckles and well as “ah ha” moments for church nerds like me – and you.

Three years ago, when Epiphany actually fell on Sunday, with the title “The star wasn’t the only miracle that day,” Rick and Ted’s conversation went like this:

Ted: So, the magi just walk in on Herod and ask where to find Jesus?

Rick: Yeah, that’s pretty much it.

Ted: Amazing!

Rick: What, that they are seeking the Messiah in the company of a tyrant?

Ted: No! That three men would actually stop and ask for directions!

You’ve seen similar cartoons and punchlines to a similar joke, I’m sure – the absurdity of men asking for directions.

        But the cartoonist points out another strange detail from the gospel lesson for today – that these travelers, foreigners from the East, likely from Babylon or beyond, would not only stop and ask for directions – but that they ask these directions from Herod, who is well known as a tyrant king, and they are asking him where an opposing king might be found.

Surely, if these were, as tradition later defined them, “wise men,” they would have known that they were indeed stirring up some very dangerous waters with their question. Herod’s tyranny and cruelty were well-known. And no king would tolerate the presence and competition nor even the suggestion of another king within his realm.

        But that is not the only strange detail in the telling of the gospel story today. In fact, strange details are stacking up.

        There is this business about that star. The star that the text says, went ahead of the magi until it stopped over the place where they found the child – the now nearly two-year old Jesus – together with his mother.

        Who were these men who have so stirred our imaginations? They have been called “wise men,” and later were defined as “Three Kings.” Yet this term, magi, comes from the Greek text where the word to describe them is magoi.

This is a word that might better be translated “magician” and yet it is highly likely that these men were astrologers – another way this word is used in antiquity, and an apt description of men “from the east” who were known to spend much of their time searching the skies for signs and portents connecting the astrological occurrences to occurrences in the physical, earth-bound world.

We can imagine them as either the scientist astronomers who scan our skies looking for origins of stars and the secrets to the universe locked away in the skies; or as astrologers, who study the skies comparing them to star-charts and seeking to find the keys of the future unlocked through their interpretations.

Either way, they knew the skies. They sought answers to the past, present and especially the future among the stars and planets they studied. And there, in those skies they knew so well, they observed changes that point to something wonderful and strange and awe-inspiring.

If they lived in contemporary times we can imagine them reporting to Science Daily or the Institute for Creation Research: Astronomers have found a new star, hitherto before not observed in the skies and it beckoned them to follow, which they did, stopping in Jerusalem for clarification and direction. Now, they themselves enter the story.

Barbara Brown Taylor writes that the arrival of the magi in Jerusalem signals the fulfillment of Simeon’s prophecy, the prophecy that was reported in Luke’s gospel when Simeon first sets his eyes on the infant Jesus in the temple on the day of his circumcision and naming – “This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed.”

The magi, outsiders, foreigners, Gentiles, no less, are among the first to recognize – and witness – to the miraculous presence of God in human form among us – in the Christ child. By their very presence they themselves become part of the portent of what is to come – that truth that will be born into its own forms of opposition - that through the Messiah God is calling and blessing people of all nations and tongues to participate in the new kingdom God is creating, to share in the blessing of God’s incarnation among us, and to join in the refrain of homage to Christ, the king.

The response of the magi to the vision they behold is that of overwhelming joy. The Greek translation expresses their reaction in terms that go well beyond the contained joy of our Christmas and Epiphany songs and carols. The joy of the magi is expansive, explosive, heart-bursting, mind-blowing, uncontainable joy. It is the kind of reaction that demands movement and action and their first response is to give to this king the finest gifts within their means.

The magi have much to teach us about this business of testifying to the miracle that God has placed before us. Their astonishment at God’s presence among them sends them to their knees.

Their joy is remarkable. In it, they offer their very best gifts. They enter the story as strangers and they leave as friends – friends who teach us the way of obedience to God and wonderment at what God has done.

They pay homage to the Messiah.

This is the story of the first epiphany, for the revelation of God’s glory and incarnation to the magi is for us a preview of so many more epiphanies to come:

In our scriptures, God is revealed in Jesus at his baptism, a story we will hear again next week. Just a few weeks after that we will once again celebrate God’s revelation at the transfiguration of Christ on the mountaintop, where the glory of God shone around him. God’s revelation happens again through the miracles Jesus performs, and then, through his Passion, death and resurrection.

God’s presence among us in revealed in the everyday stories of our lives, too. God’s presence is revealed in ordinary people who do ordinary and extraordinary things.

The news is full of horrible stories of violence and terror and horrible suffering at the hands of fire and storm. But if you listen, if you pay attention you will find within each story the accompanying stories of angels of mercy who reach out to help, rescue, heal, comfort, extend mercy and grace, offer forgiveness, show God’s love, care and compassion.

God’s presence is revealed for us each week as we celebrate God’s Word come among us and as we celebrate the revelation of God’s healing, abiding, forgiving word through the holy meal we share. God’s light is revealed in moments quiet and moments profound.

A couple of weeks ago, the Vatican had announced forward movement in the process that will lead to Mother Theresa being canonized a saint. Regardless of how you view the process and practice of the Catholic Church in the naming of saints, you probably agree that certainly in the way she lived her life and served the poorest of the poor, Mother Theresa shined the light and love of Christ on those with whom she came in contact.

Last week, we received a thank you card here at Grace, from one of the residents of St. Mark’s Village, an elderly recipient of Christmas gifts through Grace’s Christmas adoption activity and also a regular recipient of meals provided through feeding programs in which we engage each month, where the light of Christ shines on our small act of outreach: "Thank you so much for gifts through your Christmas gifting project,” he wrote. “It made my Christmas--made me feel so good. May God bless!!! [I] Just like what your church does for me. Happy New Year!!!"  

On Thursday a young man came through our doors, looking for assistance and thanking us for the help we’ve given before – assistance which has helped him and his wife show their young son what the love of strangers can do, in the name of Christ. At the end of our meeting, I held hands with father and son, as we prayed together for God’s light to continue to shine down on them.  

God’s presence will be revealed when we come together and profess our faith and when we open our doors for strangers and foreigners to enter into this sanctuary, so that together we can celebrate with overwhelming joy the light of God’s love. That love is made alive when together we are sent out to serve the community around us, to proclaim the good news of God’s glory, and when we reach out into the world through our collections and activities to feed the hungry and clothe the naked.

Thanks be to God who uses us to witness to the Light. Thanks be to God who is revealed through the ordinary and the extraordinary. Thanks be to God, who gathers together all the nations of the world and proclaims that tyrants need no longer be feared, because God’s light is revealed in Christ the King. Thanks be to God, the brightest star in the heaven, who blesses us with overwhelming joy, that we may be a blessing for the world. AMEN.

Revolution

John 1:[1-9], 10-18

Greetings to you, my brothers and sisters in Christ, on this, the Second Sunday of Christmas; a Sunday in which we in the church are focused, one last time this year, on the gift of the child born in Bethlehem. Our crèche is still sitting, now, so close to Epiphany with the Magi approaching the stable, right here, front and center. Tonight has long been known as twelfth night, the eve of Epiphany, and according to the old English Christmas Carol, “The Twelve Days of Christmas,” we are preparing to receive the gift of twelve drummers drumming.

Meanwhile, though we may find ourselves in the Christmas season, waning as it is, the rest of the world has already moved on. The year has turned – and we are already several days into a new year, with new challenges and new possibilities. Merchants are displaying Valentine’s Day wares.  You’ve probably already hung your 2014 calendar, you might be in the beginning stages of gathering your documents together for tax season, and you’ve probably even made your New Year resolutions, if you do that kind of thing – and as we are only five days into the New Year, so far, chances are you’ve even kept the resolutions you’ve made – so far.

I’ve seen an AT&T commercial a few times in the past couple of weeks. In it, there is a man sitting at a pint-sized table with a group of small children in what looks like a preschool or kindergarten classroom. He begins a brief conversation with the children, asking an open-ended question – a really risky thing to do with small children, as I have learned the hard way in children’s sermons over the years.

In this ad, the man begins by asking, “Is it better to be more reliable or less reliable?” Of course, the kids all answer, in unison, “More reliable.” So far, so good – I’m sure this is the answer that man is looking for, given that it is a commercial for AT&T, after all. Then he asks the kids, “Why?” One little boy answers in all sincerity, “So you can keep your New Year’s revolution.”

“A New Year’s revolution! Oh no! What are you going to do?” the man asks, in mock alarm at the thought of kindergartners in revolt. (Which, I admit, is a pretty scary thought!)

The boy then answers, “I would have more time to eat jelly beans this year.”

Relieved, the man responds, “Oh, so it’s not so much a revolt, more just like you eating things that are bad for you.”

“Yeah,” answers the little boy, nodding.

“I can deal with that,” the man responds.

This commercial gave me a chuckle at first, but then I got to thinking about the intersection of these words - resolution and revolution – in the Christmas story. Let me explain.

As Christians, we know Christmas not just as a holiday or festival, but rather as a time that witnesses to a reality that permeates our whole life. While God’s love for God’s creation and people has not changed from the beginning of time, in the birth of the savior, God’s tactics for how that love is made manifest not only changed but ignited a revolution.

In the past, God resolved to love, provide for and accompany God’s holy people into the Promised Land in a covenant relationship. And when the people’s sin and corruption and betrayal repeatedly broke that covenant, rather than cut them off forever, God did something revolutionary; God resolved to save God’s beloved from sin and death by entering the world in fleshly form. And God’s revolutionary presence in the world upset things so much that, in John’s words, “his own didn’t know him……they did not accept him.” Instead, they killed him and hung him on a cross. But God’s revolution in Christ Jesus prevailed in victory over death and the grave in the resurrection of Christ.

Our revolutionary reality is that in Christ, God inhabiting human form, God taking on flesh, makes us new. David Lose writes, “God has become flesh, entering a world of sin. God goes to the cross and dies. God becomes our dust so that we are given God’s life and resurrection. The sacred enters the profane and the world will never be the same.” That, my friends, is revolutionary. And it is balm for a world thirsting for peace and for justice.

For while it is still true that through God’s love we are given all we need to live and to love in harmony with one another and with God’s whole creation, sin persists. We find ourselves in conflict, broken, disappointed, defeated, and wandering. The Old Testament text from Jeremiah today reflects experiences of the people of God in the time of exile, but it also describes our own condition: devastated and lonely, lost, experiencing life filled with zigzags, detours and derailments; we find ourselves stumbling, staggering, and falling down. Yet unfailingly, God responds to our overwhelming need, and guides us back to brooks of refreshing water through baptism, where our mourning is turned into joy.

In our gospel text today, John’s Christmas confession extends beyond the baby born in a lowly stable and wrapped in cloths and laid in a manger. It is the belief that he existed before creation and comes to us and lives among us now; that he was always and is always participating with us as we explore what living as heirs of God’s magnificent reign of love means in our lives. In Christ, God is revealed. In Christ, God becomes known. In the Word, this incarnation of God born of Mary, Jesus the Christ, God’s revolutionary stand is burned into the history and life of the world.

As we gather today, we still have the nativity scene here to remind us of the Christmas story that we heard on Christmas Eve. That story includes a baby in a manger, parents traveling to Bethlehem, angels, shepherds, and a star. Later, it includes the magi, too. In our gospel text today, John gives us a version of the Christmas story as well. In John’s rendering, the attention shifts from Jesus’ birth story, to ours. For in this text, we are reminded of our birth as children of God – that, Jesus came into the world so that we – you and I might become children of God.

In John’s telling of the Christmas story, there is no baby, no manger. There is no report of parents traveling to Bethlehem. There are no angels, no shepherds, there is no star nor report of magi bearing gifts to greet the newborn king. This is no historical account of the birth of Jesus Christ, the messiah. Instead, in the gospel of John, we get a statement of faith about God’s incarnation, “And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only begotten son, full of grace and truth.” And it is through this Word, the only Son of God that the fullness and true extent of God’s love becomes known to us and is shared with the entire cosmos, and it changes everything.

For those facing despair, the Word gives us cause to take heart and realize that we are not alone, and that these trials will not overcome us. The revolutionary Word of God is a word of hope for all people. The revolutionary Word of God, whose coming has made us children of God, refuses to allow our lives to be dominated by the trials we face, nor by the circumstances in which we find ourselves. It will not allow us to be identified by the clothes we wear or the color of our skin; it does not count our age or gender, accomplishments or sexuality, the measurement of our intellect or bank balance. God’s revolutionary Word became human and entered the struggle of human life as love incarnate, as God’s inclusive word of compassion, forgiveness and reconciliation with and for a fallen world. Revolutionary indeed.

Kae Evensen writes, “Our lives are messy stuff but God entering every corner of the world means that there is no place God is not: the linen cloth that held the Christ child becomes the Veil that has been torn, and from it we are unbound. Jesus is in our midst. Now, sins are forgiven, wounds are healed, the dead will rise.”

What is ordinary now bears the extraordinary, revolutionary promises of Christ. Promises like unconditional love, salvation, grace and mercy extended to all people.

As God’s resolution for the salvation of humanity took on the form of revolution with the birth of Christ, as God joined intimately with the whole of humanity, God invites each of us to join the revolution as well. We are called as children of God and heirs together in Christ to share the love of God within this world in which we live. Jesus comes into our midst calling us to revolution as well. We are invited as children of God to resolve that we will follow in the Way of Christ, forgiving, healing, and disturbing the status quo that denies the reality of God’s sovereignty. To follow through on this resolution means that we will revolt against all forms of slavery, oppression, discrimination, injustice, poverty and hatred.

On this Sunday and every day may it be our resolution to actively take part in the revolution of God in Christ. In this most powerful, meaningful, transformative revolution, led by God and demonstrated in the live, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, let us bear witness to the miracle that takes place not only in a stable in Bethlehem but each and every day within the hearts of every child of God. May we declare with every sound of the drum that as we have received from God grace upon grace, we resolve to dedicate our lives to the peace, equality, love, mercy, and care for all of God’s creation and for all people.