Sermon: "Why I Follow the Star," January 5, 2020
“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.”
We are all likely familiar with the scene of Jesus’ nativity. There’s Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus. There are animals, shepherds, angels. And then there are three kings. Or three wise men, maybe with a camel or two. All gathered at a stable, gathered around a manger. Star above in the sky.
Our scenes, as lovely as they are, are actually a combination of two very different, very distinct stories. From two different books: the good news according to Luke. And the good news according to Matthew.
The shepherds, angels, and animals all belong to Luke’s story. Shepherds are minding their business with their sheep in the field, and they’re interrupted by an army of angels who direct them to Bethlehem. There they find Mary, Joseph and Jesus in the stable. And where there’s a stable, there are animals.
Luke’s story is told this way to identify Jesus’ humble beginnings. No comfy home, born among animals. And those who come to greet him are shepherds: these are the poor. Those considered unclean and unkempt. Luke’s story proclaims the good news of God’s coming as good news for the weak, the outcast. The workers, the oppressed. The coming of Christ to the poor as poor reveals God’s love for the least, the last and the lost.
That’s Luke’s nativity scene.
Now, you’ve probably noticed a few figures missing. There’s no star to be seen. No star, meaning no wise men to follow. And no wise men to follow, meaning no camels to hop on and off of. Which is because all three of these are derived from Matthew’s telling, rather than Luke’s.
Luke’s story’s very earthy. It’s agricultural, and there’s a birth so ordinary that simple people can understand it, hear it as good news, and respond like the shepherds. Matthew’s story, though, is exotic. It’s mystical, it’s cosmopolitan and international.
They’re “wise men,” it says. Later tradition morphed these figures into “we three kings from orient are.” But they are Magi. They’re well-read scholars, people with royal connections. They observe the movements of the stars and try to decipher meaning from them. Our most modern equivalent might be scientists. Though no the kind of killjoy ones who see scientific method as the explanation for everything. These are the kind of scientists that are caught up in the wonder and beauty of the natural world. For them, the universe is brimming with meaning. This is how they end up spotting the star and following it.[i]
They’re wise men, it says. But they’re also wise men from the East, it says. They’re probably from Persia, modern day Iran. Meaning they’re foreigners. And they’re pagans. Meaning that they don’t worship the God of Israel. They have their own gods, and own traditions. And they practice astrology—which has a pretty bad rep in the Bible, especially the Old Testament. So they’re political and religious outsiders, through and through.
They’re outsiders from the East. Even so, they’re drawn by the star to Bethlehem, the land of the God of Israel. When they arrive, they’re filled with joy. They kneel in worship, offering their allegiance to the newborn babe. And they place treasure fit for a king at Christ’s feet. No stable mentioned, no animals. Just a house containing mother and child.
So here we have in this nativity scene influential intellectual scholar-scientists. We have foreigners from the East, strangers from an international, exotic locale. And they come bearing the incredible wealth of their nations, which they lay at Christ’s feet.
Luke’s nativity was very ordinary, for ordinary people living very locally rooted lives. But Matthew’s nativity is extraordinary.
It’s written for those who prize intelligence and learning. It’s written for those with a broader, liberal-minded, and international perspective on things than the average shepherd. And those who have plenty of wealth to spare.
You could say that Matthew’s nativity scene was especially crafted for people like us.
“Three Wise Men,” from “The Hipster Nativity Set”
We are the most educated society in human history. Even those of us with little education are in many ways as knowledgeable as an ancient scholar. We’re the children of scientific progress, analyzing the data of the cosmos to discover deeper meaning, and uncover interconnectedness. We also live in a globalized world. A society of immigrants, intertwined economies, and instant-worldwide communications. Plus we’re also the richest society in human history.
It's funny because often critics of religion will paint believers as gullible, or brainwashed fools. But Matthew here has some of the world’s best and brightest show up. This suggests there’s room at the manger for both our hearts and our heads. Brain and gut. Both the unsophisticated ancients and sophisticated moderns alike. We have all the characteristics of modern Magi. Luke and Matthew together say that the Christian message is for everybody.
And what is that message, exactly?
We’re coming to the end of the Christmas season. You know the song--”on the twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me.” Today we celebrate the Epiphany of the Lord. Epiphany means “manifestation.” I means something that was hidden has come to light. It’s like the little lightbulb goes off above your head. We say we had an Epiphany when something finally makes sense.
What makes sense points in two directions.
The first is this: According to the Christian tradition, this is the moment where Jesus Christ we have been shown the truth at the heart of all things. We have been shown the truth about God in the face of this child, the mystery in his eyes. And in him we have seen God is love. Not just any kind of love. But self-giving, cross-shaped, sacrificial love. As Jesus says in John’s gospel, “I am the light of the world.” He is the image of the invisible God. The Epiphany is first about the nature of God.
In this child, We have seen the glory of God.
The second Epiphany is this: also according to Christian tradition, Jesus has fulfilled all righteousness. He has fulfilled the law of God in living a full, authentic human life, life as it’s always intended to be. He’s put flesh on the God of love. Loving, feeding, healing. Teaching, challenging, disrupting. Emptying himself for friend and enemy. Saint and sinner alike. Jesus says also in the gospel of John, “I am the Way, the truth, and the life.” He is the image of the invisible God. And the pattern for our living. The Epiphany is, secondly, about the nature of who we are to be as human beings with our lives in union with his.
W.H. Auden, one of the great English poets of the mid-twentieth century included the wise men as part of his beautiful, epic poem, A Christmas Oratorio. In it, he retells the Christmas story as a modern one, with each of the characters telling their own story from their own perspective. In the Bible, we never get inside the Magi’s heads. We never hear why these sophisticated, scholarly, and wealthy people were drawn to by the star. But in his poem, Auden has the wise say these words in explaining why they’re following the star to Christ:
“To discover how to be truthful now
is the reason I follow the star,” says the first.
“To discover how to be living now
is the reason I follow the star,” says the second.
“To discover how to be loving now
is the reason I follow the star,” says the third.[ii]
How to be truthful now. How to know the truth. How to live the truth. It’s easy for people like us in the era of relativism and “fake news” to downplay the importance of truth. But Jesus said “you shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.” Jesus gives us a truth to build our lives on. And in following him God makes us into truthful people. People of deep integrity the people around us can depend on.
How to be living now. We are people who know incredible distraction. Our minds are always thinking towards our phones, preoccupied with the next thing. Unable to be here and now. In following Jesus, God frees us from our anxieties. We are able to see each and every moment as one shot through with the glory of God. Epiphany tells us what’s important is here and now on earth in the flesh, and not somewhere off in heaven. “Trust in God,” Jesus says. “And trust in me.” No need to be enslaved to our pasts, nor be consumed by fear of the future.
How to be loving now. Our world as it is makes loving seem all the more impossible. A divided culture, with hostile opposing sides. The gap between the rich and poor continues to grow while war and violence loom large yet again. Epiphany tells us that there is a different way. “Love God with everything you’ve got,” Jesus says. “And love your neighbor as yourself.” In following the star, kneeling and offering our lives at the manger, God frees us from our fears and hatreds, helping us to love friend and enemy alike.
These are the reasons, according to Auden, that Magi seek the child in Bethlehem.
And then he has them all speak at once to say this:
“To discover how to be human now
Is the reason we follow the star.”
To be truthful. To be living. To be loving. To be human. This is the reason the wise men were drawn by the star. And the same promise of transformation is given to us this day. Make no mistake—the journey will take all we’ve got. It means that, like the Magi, our intellects, our ambitions, our time, our money and our possessions all will be offered up at the feet of Christ. It’ll cost us everything we have. But the promise is that we, like they, will come to know true joy. To know God, our Source, and our end, more deeply. And to become more like Jesus, the manifestation, the Epiphany of our Creator. In the end, to become fully and truly human. To become the people we were created to be.
So, in the words of the hymn we began worship this morning:
So may we with holy joy,
pure, and free from sin's alloy,
all our costliest treasures bring,
Christ, to thee, our heav'nly King.[iii]
May it be so. Maybe even especially so for modern, sophisticated people like us.
Amen.
[i] This reading of the Wise Men is indebted to Fleming Rutledge’s imaginative interpretation. See Fleming Rutledge, “Who Are Those Wise Men?” in The Bible and the New York Times (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998), 61-66.
[ii] Quoted in Michael Mayne, “Following the Star,” in To Trust and to Love: Sermons and Addresses, ed. Joel W. Huffstettler (London: Darton, Longman & Todd, 2010), 18. I am indebted to Mayne’s sermon for the insights I build on following.
[iii] William Chatterton Dix,”As With Gladness Men of Old,” in Voices United: The Hymn and Worship Book of the United Church of Canada (Toronto: United Church Publishing House, 1995), 81.