“What do Wise Men (or Wise Women, for the matter) do? - Matthew 2:12

January 3, 2010

The Reverend Kay E. Huggins, New Life Presbyterian Church

         Well, it’s been a week of stories in our home.  First, the story (polished punctuated and proofed) of the burglary of our home provoked countless stories of other burglaries.  Both friends and strangers participated in the storytelling.  Then, George and I gave ourselves the pleasure of the stories told in the movies:

•       Avatar told the story of imperialism’s abuse, of the corrective of recognition and restitution, and of creation’s beautiful capacity to heal herself

•       Sherlock Holmes offered a tale of intellectual tenacity, quick footed wit and charmed relationships. 

Finally, there was my disciplined return to sermon crafting, a process of turning, turning, turning the assigned text until an entry point emerges and I am lovingly drawn into text to share with my community.  Yes, it’s been a week of stories: cautionary tales, entertaining and revelatory movies, and scriptural text offering illumination.  I can’t imagine a better beginning to a new year, than a deep dip into stories.

         However, my deep dip also teased out questions in me.  How are the stories I tell and the stories others tell me emotionally revelatory...even (and I do believe this) sacred?  Why can movies capture values and fling them across the big screen more easily than conversation? Why I am led back to scripture when truth continues to flash from the big screen or pop up in intimate sharing? And why do I take such delight in studying the text?

         Well, part of the response is, of course, that I am odd.  I’m a throwback, a Christian who loves the Bible, regardless.  I’m designed this way: without daily doses and weekly immersions into God’s word, I’m not me!  I learned this long ago; I’ve ceased resisting it. There’s no point in trying to make myself more spectacular, nor to spin the straw of my life into whatever the contemporary currency of gold may be, nor to be other than I am.  I am my best self when at home with scripture; Bible study satisfies me deeply. 

         But, there’s also an answer deeper than my oddity; there is the precious perspective of scripture...there is divine revelation.  Scripture brings me to my knees, scripture captures me in awe, and scripture lets me glimpse the brilliance of life, of creation, and of God’s great heart. While I don’t deny illumination in many and various ways, Scripture has become my way of wisdom, morality, truth, mystical union and especially love divine.  In short, scripture has made me wise, in much the same way as the wise men in today’s text are wise. 

         So, let’s go there.  Let’s return to the second chapter of Matthew, to his “prelude” to the story of Jesus and let’s listen to his tale with energy, imagination, intelligence and love.

         First, the energy.  It’s always wise, when beginning to study a slice of scripture, to find the vortex and the still point of the text.  Every passage includes both a whirl of inspiration (aka energy) and a calm of awe or rest.  In the case of Matthew’s story of the magi, the vortex swirls two kings into a tense relationship and the rest comes as humble worship. More closely: energy sparks as Herod, the puppet king of Israel appointed by Rome, hears and fears another king, whose birth is heralded by signs in the heavens and whose presence is sought after by magi from the East.  The unique energy of this first textual vortex vibrates throughout Jesus’ life as:

•       often he is in conflict with religious leaders and political powers,

•       usually his way opposes the powerful and the privileged,

•       and always his path leads to the fringes where the outsiders, the meek, the weak and the children gather.

Matthew lets his audience know from the very beginning, Jesus’ life confronts core assumptions of the powerful, whether they be powerful political or powerful religious leaders. It is impossible to understand Jesus without understanding this tension -- if you take away the tension between human assumed power over others and God’s loving engagement with creation, you obscure the light that shines through the whole story of Jesus.

         Likewise, the still point of the text must be respected.  Matthew calmly describes the magi, having arrived at the right place (a place, by the way, far humbler than the royal court of Herod), they see...and amazingly, these foreigners recognize God’s own Shepherding King in a child. (Think about that for a moment...God’s Shepherding King in a child?)  In response, their searching stopped, the scene dissolved in radiant light, and their response was a joyful adoration and a generous sharing of their wealth. 

         Thus, the energy of the text circulates between kings, around foreigners and finally stills before a mother and child.  Keep touch with that pulse as we move into imaginative content of Matthew 2.  For the record, there is no point denying the imaginative brilliance of this story! The magi, variously described as kings, astrologers, wise men, intellectuals (and variously numbered as 3 in Western Christianity, while in Eastern Christianity there are 12, unnamed, but each having symbolic significance), these magi show up on Hallmark cards and in Christmas pageants year after year.  The magi have entered our collective imagination and evidently, they will not be dislodged. Some may try to dismiss them as fluff, others will categorized them as legend, and still others will ridicule them as outdated myth -- but the magi (with the trappings we’ve imagined) endure. Their presence is wrapped in the intrigue of the strangers, dusted with a hint of wealth (and wisdom) and presented annually as an indication that something more than human agency is writing this story. 

         Gladly, the magi’s imaginative hold on us is tenacious; Matthew’s prelude to Jesus’ adult story keeps demanding an encounter with other cultures, other wisdoms, other insights...perhaps, necessarily so.  But, intellectually, what are we to do this story -- specifically, with that guiding star stalled over Bethlehem? Since the renaissance, astronomers have supplied data to authenticate the star of Bethlehem. 

•       In 1614, German astronomer Johannes Kepler determined that a series of three conjunctions of the planets Jupiter and Saturn occurred in the year 7 BC. Although conjunctions were important in astrology, Kepler was not thinking in astrological terms. He argued (incorrectly) that a planetary conjunction could create a nova, which he linked to the Star of Bethlehem.

•       Other ancients suggested that the star was a comet. Haley's Comet was visible in 12 BC and another object, possibly a comet or nova, was seen by Chinese and Korean stargazers in about 5 BC. This object was observed for over seventy days with no movement recorded -- just as the Star of Bethlehem was said to have "stood over" the "place" where Jesus was.

•       Another Star of Bethlehem candidate is Uranus, which passed close to Saturn in 9 BC and Venus in 6 BC. Of course, this suggestion is unlikely because Uranus moves very slowly and is barely visible with the naked eye.

•       And the most recent hypothesis states that the star of Bethlehem was a supernova or hyper-nova occurring in the nearby Andromeda Galaxy. Although supernovae have been detected in Andromeda, it is extremely difficult to detect a supernova remnant in another galaxy, let alone obtain an accurate date of when it occurred.

So far, the scientific data does not substantiate the star and yet, the story is not contrary to the science (astrology) or to the intellectual climate of the first century. It is an event that could have happened...and happened much as Matthew describes it: simply, directly, without fanfare or presumption or kingly attire or royal trappings  His tale of foreigners traveling from ancient Persia (modern day Iraq and Iran) to Jerusalem and then onto Bethlehem, according to the culture and wisdom of Matthew’s time, was a likely occurrence.  

Energy, imagination, intelligence and yet, there’s something more that must be added -- no passage of scared text is complete without love.  So, where’s the love in Matthew 2?

•       In Herod’s place? Hardly, the text declares that Herod, and all Jerusalem, trembled with fear before the magi’s question:  where is the birthplace of King of Israel?

•       Among the scribes who studied the scriptures and brought back the prophecy of a shepherd ruler from Bethlehem? Hardly, there either. These learned men saw nothing of God in the words they delivered --- indeed, they played into Herod’s plot to murder the infant.

•       Was there love as Herod spoke in private to the magi? No, all we see there is the conniving of a crooked heart and the whispers of a threatened “pretend” king.

But there is love in the magi, the “wise” men of Matthew’s story.

These wonderful foreigners who risked their lives and reputations,

leaving positions of power and influence,

to hitch their destiny to a rising star. 

These magi whose journey took them directly

into the center of Israel’s power and praise, Jerusalem --

there to be told by students of Scripture, who seem amazingly detached, 

Look in Bethlehem.

These magi whose search led them to something

far less grand than a palace or temple,

but who nevertheless glimpsed God’s future

in a young mother holding her child.

These magi who lovingly, quietly, respectfully bowed

to the end of their journey.

These magi, who according to Matthew,

were the first to recognize the child Jesus as divine light in the world.

Such a journey from riches to rags, from privilege to poverty, from fear to focused awe only makes sense when interpreted by love. Matthew meant the whole world to see the love of God disclosed in a child named Jesus.  Matthew meant the Jewish community -- to whom he wrote -- to understand God’s intentions in Jesus always included those they called “outsiders.” Matthew even hoped that future generations who sought and eventually found the child named Jesus, who knelt in honor and awe, and who offered their treasurers -- to all who humbly drew near would become wise as the magi.

The magi were, indeed, wise men in that still moment of worship before Mary and her son. Theirs was not the wisdom of personal stories, nor the wisdom of imaginative epics, nor the wisdom of intellectual accuracy, but the wisdom of God’s love hidden within a child. In Matthew

Energy and stillness frame the moment;

Imagination and intelligence draw us in;

But, the scene only makes sense when touched with God’s love.

Then, with energy, imagination, intelligence and love we too receive the wisdom to recognize God’s great sweep of creation, history, reversal and renewal hidden in a child safe in his mother’s arms.

On this Epiphany, may we recognize God in the child Jesus and may we find our way to live, and especially to share, the love that radiates through Jesus, our true light shining in the darkness. Amen.