Matthew 2:1-12 [13-15]
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.
[Now after they had left, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, "Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him." Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt, and remained there until the death of Herod. This was to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet, "Out of Egypt I have called my son.”]
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And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, the wise men left for their own country by another road.
Today’s gospel is a story of travel.
A star rises in the sky. A bright star, perfectly aligned with all of the right planets, a clear sign to a group of astrologists in the east that a king has been born. A divine king. A king worth seeking out.
So the magi pack up and head out on the road. They travel with the star as their guide, and their road first takes them to Jerusalem, to Herod, the sitting king, who seems as good a person as any to inquire about the newborn king who has been revealed to them.
Herod is threatened by news of this newborn king, so he plots with his advisors, calls the wise men to himself in secret and tells them to go find this rival king. “Pinpoint his location,” Herod asks them, “and then return home by this same road, and swing by Jerusalem on your way back, and tell me what you learn about this baby, so that I also might ‘worship’ him.”
So the wise men continue along the road, following the star, traveling onward because stars and kings are exciting business, alluring, irresistible. They travel until the star stops over the place where the child is.
They enter the house, see Jesus, and Mary his mother, and they rejoice. Before them is the child who is called Messiah, God-in-the-flesh, prince of peace. The child who will threaten all political order by preaching a message of love instead of power, a policy of forgiveness instead of retribution, an agenda of servanthood instead of exploitation.
The wise men rejoice. They come face-to-face with Jesus, and they are filled with joy, not fear. They meet Jesus, and they see there eternal light and life, and they know in their hearts and in their dreams that there is no good to be done by returning to Herod. And so they set out for home once again, returning not by that same road through Jerusalem, but by a different route.
I don’t know why you are here today, watching from wherever you are. Maybe it’s habit, to get up on a Sunday morning and attend church; maybe it is what you did as a child and what you mean to do for your children as well. Maybe you met Jesus years and years ago, and your heart has long trusted God’s promises of grace and mercy, and you come here to repeat your joy, week after week. Maybe you believe but are doubting, and come here for answers or assurance. Maybe you are intrigued by this Jesus-guy, but still unsure, and you are here because you are following a light toward a child who you have not yet seen, and you wonder if one day, you will meet him here.
Whatever the reason, each of us, like those traveling magi, has come here because some star in the sky has captured our imagination, and we want to find the place where Jesus is, and meet him face-to-face.
We want to draw near to love and to forgiveness. We want to know that we are not past hope. We want to know that there is a power beyond our own selves, our own governments, our own deeply-entrenched prejudices and conflicts. We follow the star to Jesus because we want peace and we want to be restored and we want the old, rough parts of ourselves and our world to be made new. We want to know that there is life beyond life, abundant life, life that wins out even over death.
And so we travel together, following a star in hopes that we will meet Jesus. Maybe we’ll meet him in the waters of baptism or in the bread at the table, or in the witness of the scriptures, or in acts of mercy and hospitality and love. Maybe we’ll meet him in friends who shine with divine love, or in places of hope, or even in places of fear and despair that leave us clinging to faith instead of to our own ambitions.
But you have to know something. I have to warn you. Something happens when we meet Jesus face-to-face. Something happens when the star stops over the place where Jesus is. Our hearts leap for joy, yes, but then something else happens. We are changed. We are made different. We travel home by a different road. Meeting Jesus makes all of our old roads obsolete.
When we have been forgiven so deeply and completely, we cannot walk our old roads of spite. Christ calls us to new roads of grace and mercy.
When we have been fed with holy food and drink, and bathed in cleansing, forgiving waters, we cannot walk our old roads of luxury. Christ calls us to new roads of feeding others, and giving them water when they are thirsty, and caring for their basic needs.
When we have received peace and hope that pass all understanding, we cannot walk our old roads of division and distrust and war. Christ calls us to new roads of reconciliation and unity and love.
When we have been given abundant life, we cannot walk our old roads of ignorance or greed. Christ calls us to new roads where we are dissatisfied with oppression, poverty, and death, new roads where we seek life and abundant life for all.
When we have received such great joy, we cannot walk our old roads of keeping our faith hidden. Christ calls us to new roads of witness, of letting our light shine in word and deed, of making an account for the hope that is in us.
Like the wise men, when we meet Jesus, we are transformed, and there are only new roads to be walked after the encounter.
But the wise men aren’t the only ones who travel in this story.
The account in Matthew 2 doesn’t end with the wise men returning home by another road. The story continues:
“Now after [the wise men] had left, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, ‘Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.’ Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt, and remained there until the death of Herod. This was to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet, ‘Out of Egypt I have called my son.’”
Joseph and Mary, also, traveled a new road, one very much not of their own choosing.
After learning of Herod’s pursuit, they left home, took a different road out of town, became refugees, traveled first to Egypt, and then later, back to Israel, to Nazareth in Galilee, where they finally settled once gain.
Mary and Joseph traveled these scary new roads because they, too, believed in the love and the power ofthe child they first met under a starry sky in a stable, a child whose very existence had already demanded that they take roads less traveled: unexplainable pregnancies, adoptive fathers, parenting the very son of God. Even before the flight to Egypt, Jesus had caused Mary and Joseph to depart from whatever they had otherwise expected their life paths to bring.
We might feel a particular kinship with Mary and Joseph today. 2020 asked each of us to travel roads we’d never planned on walking. Roads we’d never imagined. Roads we perhaps didn’t even know existed.
For many of us, these roads were filled with fear, grief, and uncertainty; the same feelings that accompanied the travels of the Holy Family fleeing to Egypt and the secret travels of the wise men back home.
But like the frightened disciples who would meet Jesus on the road to Emmaus after his resurrection, we walk these unexpected and difficult new roads changed and influenced by the Jesus we’ve met, the Jesus who has transformed us, and the Jesus who walks with us.
It is because we have followed the star and met Jesus, and because we keep following stars and keep meeting Jesus again for the first time, that we can walk with with hope both the new roads to which faith calls us and also the new roads that have and will be put upon us beyond our control.
Dear ones, along all the roads you are still traveling, and all of the new roads that will be put before you, be blessed by the Holy Family and by the Magi and by all fellow travelers, who have walked roads of shadow with deep grace and deep faith, their pathways illuminated by the light and love of Christ. And now receive for your journey, this day and each day, the Blessing of the Magi in the words of Jan Richardson:
Blessing of the Magi
Jan Richardson
There is no reversing
this road.
The path that bore you here
goes in one direction only,
every step drawing you
down a way
by which you will not
return.
You thought arrival
was everything,
that your entire journey
ended with kneeling
in the place
you had spent all
to find.
When you laid down
your gift,
release came with such ease,
your treasure tumbling
from your hands
in awe and
benediction.
Now the knowledge
of your leaving
comes like a stone laid
over your heart,
the familiar path closed
and not even the solace
of a star
to guide your way.
You will set out in fear.
You will set out in dream.
But you will set out
by that other road
that lies in shadow
and in dark.
We cannot show you
the route that will
take you home;
that way is yours
and will be found
in the walking.
But we tell you,
you will wonder
at how the light you thought
you had left behind
goes with you,
spilling from
your empty hands,
shimmering beneath
your homeward feet,
illuminating the road
with every step
you take.
Blessings on your journey, my friends. Blessings on your new roads. May the light of Christ that meets you in the star and in the manger accompany all of your steps. And may you shine always with the light of Christ who walks with you. Amen.
Mary and Joseph traveled these scary new roads because they, too, believed in the love and the power ofthe child they first met under a starry sky in a stable, a child whose very existence had already demanded that they take roads less traveled: unexplainable pregnancies, adoptive fathers, parenting the very son of God. Even before the flight to Egypt, Jesus had caused Mary and Joseph to depart from whatever they had otherwise expected their life paths to bring.
We might feel a particular kinship with Mary and Joseph today. 2020 asked each of us to travel roads we’d never planned on walking. Roads we’d never imagined. Roads we perhaps didn’t even know existed.
For many of us, these roads were filled with fear, grief, and uncertainty; the same feelings that accompanied the travels of the Holy Family fleeing to Egypt and the secret travels of the wise men back home.
But like the frightened disciples who would meet Jesus on the road to Emmaus after his resurrection, we walk these unexpected and difficult new roads changed and influenced by the Jesus we’ve met, the Jesus who has transformed us, and the Jesus who walks with us.
It is because we have followed the star and met Jesus, and because we keep following stars and keep meeting Jesus again for the first time, that we can walk with with hope both the new roads to which faith calls us and also the new roads that have and will be put upon us beyond our control.
Dear ones, along all the roads you are still traveling, and all of the new roads that will be put before you, be blessed by the Holy Family and by the Magi and by all fellow travelers, who have walked roads of shadow with deep grace and deep faith, their pathways illuminated by the light and love of Christ. And now receive for your journey, this day and each day, the Blessing of the Magi in the words of Jan Richardson:
Blessing of the Magi
Jan Richardson
There is no reversing
this road.
The path that bore you here
goes in one direction only,
every step drawing you
down a way
by which you will not
return.
You thought arrival
was everything,
that your entire journey
ended with kneeling
in the place
you had spent all
to find.
When you laid down
your gift,
release came with such ease,
your treasure tumbling
from your hands
in awe and
benediction.
Now the knowledge
of your leaving
comes like a stone laid
over your heart,
the familiar path closed
and not even the solace
of a star
to guide your way.
You will set out in fear.
You will set out in dream.
But you will set out
by that other road
that lies in shadow
and in dark.
We cannot show you
the route that will
take you home;
that way is yours
and will be found
in the walking.
But we tell you,
you will wonder
at how the light you thought
you had left behind
goes with you,
spilling from
your empty hands,
shimmering beneath
your homeward feet,
illuminating the road
with every step
you take.
Blessings on your journey, my friends. Blessings on your new roads. May the light of Christ that meets you in the star and in the manger accompany all of your steps. And may you shine always with the light of Christ who walks with you. Amen.