A Sermon preached by the Rev. Michael Anderson Bullock
[Isaiah 60:1-6; Ephesians 3:1-12; Matthew 2:1-12]
Admittedly, I am not very good at identifying the stars in the night sky. Don’t get me wrong. On a clear night, especially with the absence of artificial light, the night sky fills me with wonder. I am humbled by its vastness, and at the same time awed by the fact that I belong to it. I admit that I just have not taken the time nor made the effort to learn the identity of the stars. Like an offspring of this internet era, I absolve myself by using a phone app to compensate for what I have avoided learning. By tapping the phone’s star-gazer app and holding it up to the sky, suddenly dot-like stars are connected by virtual lines; and I can see the ancient constellations and note the planets.
In this, I often think of Bev’s father, who at the tender age of his late teens was being trained as a WW II, Navy, dive-bomber pilot. Lacking anything coming close to our “GPS”, it was a necessity of navigation (not to mention any hope of a safe return) that he knew his stars. For him and all those in that circumstance, the stars were truly guiding lights in the darkness.
In his elder years and living on a mountain in rural Vermont, his training and his awareness of the stars still caused him delight; and he would readily call our generic attention to specific stars and constellations. The stars still beckoned him to follow.
The night sky and its starry content form the setting for this day’s worship. In fact, we have gathered today on the Twelfth (and last) day of Christmas; but because January 6th is such a crucial event in the gospel life, today we anticipate and mark the Day of the Epiphany – or as the liturgical calendar so majestically puts it: “The Manifestation of our Lord Jesus Christ to the Gentiles”.
To the Jeopardy Show’s answer: “It refers to the manifestation of Jesus to all the people, the correct question is: “What is the Epiphany?” (Remember to tithe your winnings to the church!)
In my eyes, January 6th always marks the significant transition – the one from the foundation that is Christmas (the season of Jesus’ birth) to the season of Epiphany, in which that birth and its significance is expressed and made clear – manifest -- by us: that is, those who know and represent Jesus in the world. As you know and as you have just heard, January 6th has its own special story. Unique to Matthew’s rendition, the story focuses on a star that provides the message and meaning of this occasion. The story begins like this.
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.1
In the ancient world, a detailed study of the stars became a fine art of observation and interpretation. Each star was given a particular meaning. The ancients rather insightfully believed that the entire cosmos was of a whole piece: That everything was interconnected, to the extent that what was happening on earth was reflected in the heavens. Alternatively, things in the heavens could indicate remarkable things on earth.
So it is that Matthew reports that “wise men from the East” came to Jerusalem. The arrival of what we know as “wise men” is more accurately translated as “magi”; and the “East” from which they hail refers, not to anything east of the Hudson River, but to Persia and its eastern empire. On the one hand, “magi” were “magicians” and “astrologers”. They involved themselves in the study of the “religious” (that is, the perceived transcendent) interaction between events in the heavens and those on earth. As such, in the Persian Empire’s context, the “cosmic” outlook of the “magi” was highly valued by those in power. As such, their social and political function was that of a kind of religious civil servant. In this service (not unlike our own bureaucracy of experts), they were not rulers; but in fact they were king makers. Every ruler, every “king” would have them on retainer of some sort because only a fool would ignore the wisdom of the ages that the stars purportedly conveyed.
It is precisely this perspective and study that brought our Magi to Jerusalem and to King Herod. After all, in their assessment of the stars and of this one, bright star in particular, they discerned the birth of a new “King of the Jews” – a ruler of significant meaning whom the stars indicated would bring justice and peace to the whole earth. So, the Magi “traveled afar”. After all, what member of the “magi” guild would dare miss this opportunity to make such a discovery? And who should know about this royal birth more than the current “King of the Jews”, Herod the Great?
By and large, modern scholars have raised serious questions about the historicity of the “Magi” story that Matthew tells. For instance, was the “star” (often referred to as “Matthew’s star”) real; or was it a literary device, by which a good tale is told? Historians and astronomers have asked if “Matthew’s star” was really “Haley’s Comet”, but this famous streaking celestial body appeared on its regular route a decade before Jesus’ birth. Was “Matthew’s star” a supernova: that is, a star that expands its size greatly only ferociously to explode itself brilliantly into the darkness?
Less speculative inquiry about “Matthew’s star” has focused on the verified conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn in the constellation Pisces, something that records do show happened three times in the period of Matthew’s story -- from 7 B.C. to 4 B.C. – which is the time of Jesus’ birth. In fact, Chinese documents note this exceedingly bright planetary conjunction occurring in 4 B.C.
The “star-gazing” point of all this is that in Persian cosmology, Jupiter was always regarded as the “royal” planet, with Saturn often thought to represent the Jews. The “Magi’s” obvious interpretation of the “star” is (as they innocently report to Herod) that a child has been born in Judea whose birth indicates not only a new Jewish king but one who is destined to bring justice and peace to all the earth. Significant news, to say the least.
As I have said, modern scholars have tended to tamp down the “Magi story” as containing history and instead have viewed it as metaphoric illustration or even as a parable. For what it’s worth, my own perspective is that no story is strictly a “metaphor”. I and others always wonder what specific event or incident caused the initial splash that produced the subsequent figurative ripples. I think it is clear that Matthew is not telling a tale that might satisfy astronomical curiosity; nor is he fostering a “nice” story for our own Christmas convenience. His Epiphany narrative contains very different overtones, to the extent that one source refers to this narrative as political dynamite”.2 (And if it were political, it must also be rooted in history. Jesus is portrayed and implicitly proclaimed by the “Magi” as the true King of the Jews, which explicitly means that Herod the Great is an imposture and indicted as a barbaric tyrant of the Roman occupation.
The truth is that there are any number of “star/god/visitation stories from the “East” – specifically from the Greek and Persian cultures. Did Matthew borrow this format and update it with “Jesus” material? Nonetheless, it is patently clear from history that the “Magi story” almost immediately sank deep roots into the Christian mind and heart. For instance, in the mid-second century, St. Irenaeus (one of the human bridges between the “Apostolic Age” -- that is, the age of the “eyewitnesses” to Jesus) and to the age of the first Christian thinkers and writers (that is, the first theologians to begin to weave the account of the faith) – Iranaeus taught that there were three “kings” -- largely based upon(not Matthew’s account) but on the fact that there were three gifts. Iranaeus also gave them representative vocations and identity: The gold bearer was seen as a king; the frankincense bearer was viewed as a priest; and the bearer of the myrrh represented the reality of Christ’s death.
In addition, in the middle ages, the “three kings” were given names: Caspar; Melchior; and Balthasar. And underscoring the liturgical and spiritual theme of Christ’s universal Epiphany to all God’s people, each of the kings was associated with a particular land: Asia; Africa; and Arabia.
The further devotion to the “Magi story” is reflected in the Epiphany tradition of “chalking of the doors”. On the Day of the Epiphany, doors to homes and doors of the churches are blessed and signified with chalk on the door’s lintel. Specifically, the current year is chalked in a bracketing fashion with the two numbers of the century being first. Then letters “C” for Caspar, “M” for Melchior; and “B” for Balthasar are chalked with each name separated by a “plus” sign – a sign of the cross. The chalking is completed with the last two numbers of the specific calendar year. Over the years, I have been honored to apply this tradition here at St. Philip’s. Indeed, it is a most holy graffiti.
A further devotional movement saw in the “C”, “M”, “B” lettering a Latin proclamation which summarizes the entire event: Christus mansionem benedicat, -- “Christ bless this house”, which also reflects the tradition that during the season of Epiphany, houses in which the faithful dwell are blessed.
The Epiphany of Christ is a telling and significant time in the life of the church and for the followers of Jesus. It is the bridge between the stunning gift of Christmas: Emmanuel: God with us; Jesus fully divine and fully human; God’s light and life stunningly on our terms and us living and reflecting (manifesting) this light and life. As one biblical scholar and priest has written: “Christmas is not an event. It is rather an invasion of time by eternity.”3
Given the truth of all this, here are some Epiphany questions I’d like us all to think and pray about and discuss in this upcoming season.
What draws you to God’s Christ?
What “star” has your attention?
To what extent do we reflect the light of Christ in the darkness?
I will close with a prayer that I found in the last few months. I have saved it for Epiphany and Epiphany’s message of exploration, discovery, and faith.
It is written by the late Anglican Archbishop of Capetown (South Africa), Desmond Tutu. Very interestingly, the core of the prayer comes from the 16th century, English explorer and global circumnavigator, Sir Francis Drake. Here is the prayer. Its title is, “Disturb Us, O Lord”.
Disturb us , O Lord
when we are too well-pleased with ourselves
when our dreams have come true because we
dreamed too little,
because we sailed too close to the shore.
Disturb us, O Lord
when with the abundance of things we possess,
we have lost our thirst for the water of life
when, having fallen in love with time,
we have ceased to dream of eternity
And in our efforts to build a new earth,
we have allowed our vision of heaven to grow dim.
Stir us, O Lord
To dare more boldly, to venture into wider seas
where storms show Thy mastery,
where losing sight of land, we shall find the stars.
In the name of him who pushed back the horizons of our hopes
And invited the brave to follow.
Amen.
1. Matthew 2:1-2
2. Fr. Dwight Longernekker, “The Magi and New Testament Scholars”
3. Hans Urs von Balthasar. The Light of the World
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