As I mentioned earlier, tomorrow is the official celebration of Epiphany which, in Western Christianity, celebrates the revelation of God incarnate in the person of Jesus. Narratively, it is the day we celebrate the arrival of the Magi, who were guided by a brilliant star, to the home of Jesus – and their delivery of precious gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. This story, which is only told in the gospel of Matthew, has all the markings of an interpretive sermon, developed from the passage in Isaiah that I read a minute ago. In Isaiah’s account of the coming of the Messiah, the house of David (Bethlehem) will be glorified, “nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn” – and they bring gold and frankincense. This is the core of the magi story.
I know that there is a tradition at UCG that names the fact that there is no donkey mentioned in the birth narrative. To honor that tradition, I feel that I also need to point out that there are no camels in the birth narrative, either. However, they are in Isaiah – a multitude of them, in fact – so your nativities are saved! You may have also noticed that in the Isaiah passage, gold and frankincense are mentioned, but not myrrh. So, where did Matthew get the myrrh? Also, from Isaiah. In Jewish history there was another visit to another King of the Jews, King Solomon, who was visited by the Queen of Sheba. The queen was said to have come on camels, bringing with her spices, including myrrh.
Therefore, since Isaiah mentions that all those from Sheba shall come, to the original audience, it would have invoked the image of spices being brought by the Queen to honor the King and so, myrrh… Although we somehow kept the camels and the spices, we did manage to lose the Queen in our imagining of the We Three Kings story…
Perhaps, though, even above the gifts, the most prominent symbol in this story is the Star, the Star of Wonder that inspired so many beloved carols… the star that calls the nations to it. This star that behaves as no star ever has and indeed, ever could. Not only could this star move through the sky, but the Magi could also tell from afar which town the star was over. I am no astronomer, but I am pretty sure that if any star came close enough for anyone to know which town it was over, there would be no town left to travel to.
One explanation for this mysterious star behavior was given by historian Dale C. Allison Jr. who explained that in ancient times, stars were thought to be living beings. Philo, the first century Jewish philosopher, wrote that stars “are living creatures, but of a kind composed entirely of mind.” We can find evidence of this idea in the Hebrew Scriptures. For instance, the book of Job speaks of a time “when the morning stars sang together and all the heavenly beings shouted for joy.”
This idea, which made stars and angels almost interchangeable, was prevalent in Christian theology until the sixth century, when during the Second Council of Constantinople, church leaders decided that stars were not reasonable beings and therefore, did not have souls.
Despite the church leaders’ pull from the mythical to the literal, stars did not disappear from our imaginings. Indeed, whether composed of mind or of matter, stars have certainly captivated the minds of human kind for all of our existence. Is there a source of greater wonder than the immense beauty and mystery of the night sky? The epiphany journey is a one that manifests in a willingness to embark on an enfolding mystery, guided by a star. What angel of inspiration is beckoning you to follow? If stars “are living creatures, but of a kind composed entirely of mind.” Could it be that our radiance is, in fact, composed of our mindfulness?
No, our magi story is not a historical, literal tale. Those revelations came hard to some in my seminary classes, but I honestly never cared much. Of course it helped that I was never taught literalism in my formative UCC church years. But, somewhere along the way, I had an epiphany, and I have come to believe that faith is about the ability to be inspired. To be able to find truth in stories of stars and camels and birth narratives that remind us that children of peace are born, celebrated, and nurtured.
My faith in this story, my ability to be inspired by it today, rests in the human capacity for reimagining our paths. We get to choose what star we follow, we have the choice to go toward the idea that matters.
Angels of inspiration have certainly led to so many wonderful poems written about Epiphany, but for time’s sake, I eventually had to narrow it down to three for this week’s bulletin. But, what I noticed in every poem I read this week was a common theme – each spoke to a deep sense of calling. Each seems to ask, in its own way, where are you going? And each seemed to answer, in its own way, “we are following a star that may pause and take a breath during important moments, but never truly stops.”
I read these poems and was inspired by thoughts like these: Epiphanies awaken the soul, epiphanies enable you to sense constant creation, epiphany means that God never said that the story of God’s people was a closed book, epiphany means having the ability to look back on our own path and see the energy of the universe present all along the way. What words or phrases call out to you for attention today?
At the beginning of our Advent journey, we were the waiting unkown, our expectations were high and our dreams were big. Now here we are, we have wound ourselves to the center, the Christmas candle has been lit and the gifts have been given – for many the lights and decorations have been turned off and put away.
We made it through the blessings and the stresses of the season and have come out not quite different yet, hopefully, somehow not quite the same. Perhaps we have made peace with the journey ahead, unwilling to release that sense of star-lit hope that is so tangible on Christmas Eve.
I admit, in the news cycle of this New Year, I am already finding it challenging to hang on to that feeling of life and light present in the stories and songs of Christmas – but, this Magi story of Epiphany inspires me to acknowledge the pain and suffering of the world and to know that there is still something to follow, that like the Magi, we don’t have to report to King Herod – we can choose to return home a different way. Perhaps, we can return Isaiah’s way – to the place where all people of all nations come together, rushing to bask in the light of the place where oppression will cease, and peace and justice are true and real and can be seen and heard and felt. We can return by way of the place where people come from anywhere and everywhere, ready to give abundantly and fully of themselves in gratitude. A place where we shall see and be radiant. Radiant, not because we have been changed into something or someone else, but because in that moment we are so at home in our own skin, that we know that the path we are on is the one to which we have been called – the star we have followed is the one that brings light to our world.
I hope that each of you received a star when you came in to worship today. I invite you to take your star and to place it gently in your palm – don’t grab it or hold it too tightly, lest you be the one guiding it. Hold it out comfortably, where you can see it. Consider this star – do you have faith in it? Can it inspire you?
If so, where is it leading you? If not, what word do you wish it was, and how would that path be different? After following your star to the place where it pauses, takes a breath, what do you hope it will it reveal to you? What gifts can you offer to your star? After your year of following this star, how will it help you choose a different way home?
Let our mindfulness beget radiance, and may our becoming guide the way. May we be inspired to follow the stars that matter, and may we be wise in our choosing. Above all, may we be the ones who manifest the gifts of Christmas in our world: hope, peace, joy, and love.
