Epiphany, 01/06/2008

Sermon on Matthew 2:1-12, by James V. Stockton

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. (NRSV)

BEING SATISFIED WITH SUBTLE SIGNS

It must have been barely noticeable. Subtle, slightly more than just a hint; the star that the Wise Men followed, and indeed, the manifestation itself, the manifestation in Jesus of the person of God. True, the other Gospel account of His birth in Luke tells of how the birth of the Savior is broadcast by a chorus of angels, suggesting that God's heavenly host were simply unable to contain their delight and surprise. And so a handful of shepherds were fortunate enough to hear from them of the birth of the Christ. Yet, Matthew's Gospel describes, I think, how it must have been for all the rest. For those not stationed on a lonely hillside outside of town, for those too far away to hear the angelic praises or to witness the brightness of the glory of God in the night skies near Bethlehem, it seems the manifestation of God was something quite subtle.

The Epiphany is the celebration of the manifestation of God, God's appearing in our world in the person of Jesus. It recalls the Wise Men who came from beyond the borders of the Hebrew nation, God's chosen people, to worship the King whose appearing they had seen predicted in a star. It's a celebration of God's faithfulness in fulfilling an ancient promise to be a light, a truth, a Joy to all nations. And it's a commemoration of the faith of a few outsiders who journey to the newborn King of the Jews, and dare to praise him and welcome him as their own King, too. They bring with them treasures of their world. Gold, the universal emblem of wealth, frankincense, a symbol of prayers and an expensive way to purify and cleanse the air of odors, and myrrh, perfumed ointment that is an absolute luxury.

In the best way they know how, they use these extravagant prizes to show kingly honor to an infant who is, in all appearances, the son of a mere tradesman. And however absurd, their gifts apparently are received and welcomed by God. For God warns the Wise Men in a dream to avoid King Herod, and so helps them return home safely.

And for all the drama in the story of a long journey and a fantastic star that moves and comes to rest above a stable, yet, ought we not wonder why? Why do we hear of only the Wise Men following the Star? Why can't Herod and his advisers simply do the same, and find their evil way to the new King? In the presence of such a unique event in the cosmos, why don't dozens, hundreds, thousands more people find their way to the baby Jesus?

My point here is not to challenge the reality of the Star. It is to suggest how the Star might have been a challenge to many and the comfort to few. It is to suggest that the Star presented, and still presents, to people an example of the subtle ways of God, and a witness to the God who acts with subtlety.

A little boy is said to have had a driving curiosity for God. Billy asks his parents: "Can anyone ever see God?" "Billy, don't ask silly questions," they respond. Billy goes next to the parish priest (not me!) "Can anyone ever see God?" Billy asks. "Billy, don't ask silly questions," he responds. Billy's at a loss now, but still his curiosity remains. He has no one authoritative left to ask, and so he decides he will simply ask the next person available. This turns out to be Edna, a woman who likes to help with the church's garden. She's elderly, rather poor, and Billy almost didn't notice her there. Billy watches her poke around the flowers a bit, and wonders about asking her his question. Can she possibly help him in his journey to see God?

This, I think, is akin to the question that the folks would have asked who might have seen the Star. ‘Can this thing possibly help me in my journey toward God?'

Of course, this would be a question asked by people intentionally on a journey toward God in the first place. Some folks would have no patience for the question. King Herod, then, cannot be said to be on a journey toward God. He is a puppet of the Roman Empire, treading carefully to protect the power he enjoys as ruler of Jerusalem and Judea. His gaze is aimed much lower than any Star in the sky. His advisors go so far so as to tell Herod that their best understanding is that in fact the new king is to be born in Bethlehem. Nevertheless, it seems that none accompanies the Wise Men. Though they know for themselves where the Savior is born, they lay this aside in order to keep in good graces with Herod.

It may be that despite the prophecy, the wealth and luxury, the privilege and grandeur that they enjoy in Herod's reign may leave them unwilling or unable to consider that the curious prophecy might be real; that in simple Bethlehem, truly there is born a new King and the Christ of God.

There's a little fable about a fellow caught in a flood. The nearby river has overflowed its banks, and his house is being inundated with water. He scrambles to the roof and prays, "O God, save me!' In a little while, a motor boat comes along. A rescue worker calls out, ‘Come on in here, and we'll get you out of here before you drown!' ‘No, thanks,' he replies. ‘I know that God is going to save me.' The water rises up onto the roof. Shortly, a patrol boat comes along. A rescue worker calls out, ‘Get in here, before you drown.' ‘No, I'm all right.' the man calls back. ‘I know that God is going to save me.' Soon the river rises, the man is clinging to the roof, the water lapping at his chin. Just then a helicopter comes by and hovers overhead. A rescue worker calls down: ‘We'll lower a rope, and get you out of there!' ‘No, that's not necessary;' he waves them off. ‘I know that God is going to save me!' Not long after, the man drowns. Up in heaven, he confronts God. "God, I prayed and prayed, I waited and I waited. You never saved me!" Impatiently, God replies, "Didn't you notice? I sent you two boats and a helicopter! What did you want?"

How much more plainly must God speak? How much more obviously must God appear? For the Hebrew king and his people, the mystery of a child in a manger, born to a peasant couple, in a small town, is not plain enough, not bold enough, it doesn't speak powerfully enough to persuade them that this is all a godly business, that however quietly, God really is at work. The sad result is that, for them, there can be no journey toward God, since in their mind, they have already arrived.

But for those far away from the land of God's promise, outside the heritage of the chosen people, the simple light of a single Star is enough to stir them, to convince them to follow it wherever it might lead, and to welcome whatever, whomever should appear beneath its light. Theirs is a willingness to accept subtlety as a way of God; a desire to pursue the mystery of God's revelation, through the ambiguity of God's ways; and so, to find God.

Having asked his parents and his priest, ‘Can anyone ever see God?' and being rebuffed at every turn, Billy is still looking for someone to answer his question, He has doubts whether or not Edna, working in the garden, can possibly help. But he decides to speak to her anyway. ‘Can you tell me,' he asks, ‘has anyone ever seen God?' ‘Oh, darling, yes!" she says. She looks around at her garden, and then back at him. ‘In fact,' she adds, ‘I often think I don't see anything else.'

I think it's good for us to consider that you and I are here because some strangers from a place far away long ago heard God's quiet voice, saw God's small beacon, and delighted in God's little miracle. It helps, I think to remember that we are heirs of these Wise Men, not necessarily as fellow men and women of great Wisdom, but as fellow strangers to the promise, who have find our adoption by God into the mystery of our salvation, not by the myth of apparent certainty, but through the subtle gift of faith.

It helps, I think, because it reminds us of the way God works through us to make us the Epiphany of His presence continuing in the world today. Sometimes barely noticeable, God makes us God's own gentle grace. Slightly more than a hint and a whisper, God makes us God's own quiet voice; together in this place, and in each of our lives, God makes us God's own simple and joyful light, shining to comfort all people, and to call the stranger home.

And so may Almighty God shine upon us the brightness of that Holy Light, that we being illumined by the life of God's Son, and inspired by God's Holy Spirit, may so walk in the light of Truth and the Joy of Grace, that we may share the Joy of Life Eternal; through Christ our Lord. Amen.

The Rev. James V. Stockton
Episcopal Church of the Resurrection
Austin, Texas

E-Mail: jstockton@sbcglobal.net

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