SERMON FOR EPIPHANY 2020 TEXT: MATTHEW 3:13-17

My friend Judy has two sons. The first year they were both old enough to participate in their Sunday School’s Christmas pageant, they were quite pleased with the parts assigned them. The older child was to play the silent, attentive Joseph; the younger proudly told his mom, “I get to be one of the three wise guys.” “Brilliant casting in both cases,” she told me.

So who were these “wise guys”? Here’s a summary of commentary from several biblical scholars: The visit of the magi appears to have been associated with Epiphany from early on. Although the origins of the festival are obscure, this much we do know. Epiphany, as the name implies, focused from the beginning on the revelation of God in Jesus and included the celebration of the Christ child’s birth before Christmas was established as a separate festival. As an aside, the first recorded date of Christmas being celebrated on December 25th was in 336, during the reign of the Roman Emperor Constantine. It was not until the 9th century that it began to be widely celebrated with a specific liturgy, and even then it did not attain the spiritual and liturgical importance of either Good Friday or Easter.

Back to Epiphany. The story of the magi captured the imagination of Christians for centuries, and they elaborated on the brief episode as related in today’s Gospel. Ancient magi were persons considered adept at astronomy, as well as various mystical arts, such as astrology, the interpretation of dreams, fortune telling and the practice of magic. Matthew clearly thinks of his characters as sages who study the heavens. It was a common idea in the ancient world that the birth or death of great persons was accompanied by heavenly portents. They have seen the rising of the star of Bethlehem and believe it to be just such a sign of world-historical significance. Over time Christians came to identify the magi as kings, most likely due to the association of Matthew’s story with the passage from Isaiah we also read today: “Nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn” (Isaiah 60:3). As royalty, they distinguish themselves from Herod, the reigning King of the Jews at the time. They were called wise men as well, offering another sharp contrast to the chief priest and scribes who advise Herod. These counselors know the prophecy but do not understand its significance for their present moment.

The legend of the magi continued to develop. In the Middle Ages the Western Church decided there were three of them and assigned them names: Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar, the last of whom was represented as an African. The items the magi offered to the Christ Child were standard gifts to honor a king or deity in the ancient world: gold as a precious metal, frankincense as perfume or incense, and myrrh as anointing oil. Christians saw them as having special spiritual symbolism about Jesus himself — gold representing his heavenly kingship, frankincense indicating his role as great high priest, and myrrh prefiguring his death and the embalming that proved unnecessary. Our gift-giving at Christmastime is to be in imitation of theirs, a way of celebrating God’s gift to all the world, the unexpected revelation of God’s glory shining in the sacred face of the infant Jesus. Who knew?

The magi did. “On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage.” They are the first of many characters to worship Jesus in Matthew’s Gospel. The Greek verb used here by the evangelist is the same one used in this exchange between the devil and Jesus during the temptation. “Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor; and he said to him. ‘All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.’ Jesus said to him, “Away with you, Satan! for it is written, ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him” (Matthew 4:8-10). This type of devotion belongs to God alone. It is the first offering of the magi to the holy child; then they open their treasure chests and bring forth their material gifts. The carol In the Bleak Midwinter asks this question: “What can I give him, poor as I am?” And answers: “If I were a shepherd I would bring a lamb; if I were a wiseman I would do my part; yet what I can I give him — give my heart.” For the magi it is their gift as well, as it is for all who would be wise. Love, faithful commitment, trust — our first offering to Jesus to be followed by the sharing of our time, treasure and talents in a life of discipleship. Epiphany is a good time to consider what those gifts might look like in your life through the new year.

The patient, persistent magi on bended knee present a very different picture from that of Herod and his capital city. “When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him . . . .” He feels no curiosity at the sight of the star, no wonder at the sign of something extraordinary in the works. His first reaction is fear, and he moves quickly to the predations of a malignant narcissism. What do I have to do, he schemes, to insure my hold on the throne and my power in the Empire? Who do I have to con? Who do I have to take down? Herod miscalculates. He tries to trick the magi into serving as advance men for his dirty work, but they know how to read the stars and interpret dreams, and they don’t fall for it. He rages at being outmaneuvered and takes his revenge. Herod bloodies his hands with an abomination that costs the lives of countless children, but he fails to eliminate the one he was after, the one born king of the Jews. And while the city of Jerusalem stews in its blind terror, wise men from the East safely carry the news of what they have experienced in Bethlehem to people far away, people destined to see the great light.

The story of the magi is a cautionary tale for Christians. Do not neglect the star rising on the horizon that may lead you to an unexpected place of blessing. Do not devalue the gifts you have to offer. And do not collude with the likes of Herod. His manipulation is artful. He will try to play you for a fool and corrupt you. He will make sure numero uno survives and leave you in shame. He will infect you with his fear and arrogance and rob you of God’s peace. Celebrate Epiphany by identifying the Herods in your life. Then like the wisemen, leave by another road. Here’s a song for the season to go with In the Bleak Midwinter, this one from James Taylor:

“Well, it pleasures me to be here and to sing this song tonight.

They tell me that life is a miracle and I figure that they’re right.

But Herod’s always out there, he’s got our cards on file.

It’s a lead pipe cinch, if we give an inch, old Herod likes to take a mile.

It’s best to go home by another way, home by another way.

We got this far to a lucky star, but tomorrow is another day.

We can make it another way, safe home as they used to say.

Keep a weather eye to the chart on high and go home another way.”

Amen.