Epiphany is one of the oldest days of celebration recognized by the
church – they celebrated the Day of Epiphany for several hundred years
before anyone thought of celebrating the day of the birth of the baby
Jesus.
Truth be told, I think we should do far more with the twelve days of Christmas and Epiphany than we do.
The deepest satisfactions in life are not those objects of gold, frankincense or myrrh . . .
The secret lies not in our possessions,
but in taking possession of ourselves.
It's the light that burns from within that truly counts.
The secret lies not in our possessions,
but in taking possession of ourselves.
It's the light that burns from within that truly counts.
Isaiah 60:1-6
Matthew 2:1-12
Matthew 2:1-12
Maybe you heard the story about the elephant who was thoroughly enjoying himself as he splashed about in the river.
And a mouse ran up to the sandy shore.
It was obvious that the mouse was agitated and disturbed about something.
And, the mouse yelled at the elephant, "Come out of the water now."
The old elephant laughed and said, "Why should I come out?"
The mouse was not about to be humiliated by this mountain of flesh. He kept yelling and yelling.
The elephant realized that if he wanted any peace and quiet he had better come out of the water.
So, slowly the elephant lumbered out of the water and stood on the shore towering over the mouse.
And spoke: "Now, why did you want me to come out of the water?"
The mouse looked up and said, "I wanted to see if you were wearing my bathing suit."
Of course, it is a nonsensical story,
but the theological punch line is this:
It is easier for us to understand how an elephant could wear the mouse's bathing suit than it is for us to understand the awesome mystery of the incarnation – Emannuel – God's Word became flesh.
The God of all creation became a tiny babe in a manger.
The church recognizes the Day of Epiphany as being January 6 – the first day after the twelve days of Christmas – but, most churches celebrate on the Sunday closest to January 6.
(So, sometimes Epiphany Sunday is a couple of days before, and sometimes a couple of days after January 6.)
It may surprise you to know that many cultures of the world make far more to do over the twelve days of Christmas and Epiphany than they do over Christmas day itself.
In fact, Epiphany is one of the oldest days of celebration recognized by the church – they celebrated the Day of Epiphany for several hundred years before anyone thought of celebrating the day of the birth of the baby Jesus.
Truth be told, I think we should do far more with the twelve days of Christmas and Epiphany than we do.
So today, on this Epiphany Sunday, we remember the story:
We remember that thousands of years ago those mysterious strangers were heading toward Bethlehem.
As everyone knows, they came to Bethlehem "following yonder star."
And a mouse ran up to the sandy shore.
It was obvious that the mouse was agitated and disturbed about something.
And, the mouse yelled at the elephant, "Come out of the water now."
The old elephant laughed and said, "Why should I come out?"
The mouse was not about to be humiliated by this mountain of flesh. He kept yelling and yelling.
The elephant realized that if he wanted any peace and quiet he had better come out of the water.
So, slowly the elephant lumbered out of the water and stood on the shore towering over the mouse.
And spoke: "Now, why did you want me to come out of the water?"
The mouse looked up and said, "I wanted to see if you were wearing my bathing suit."
Of course, it is a nonsensical story,
but the theological punch line is this:
It is easier for us to understand how an elephant could wear the mouse's bathing suit than it is for us to understand the awesome mystery of the incarnation – Emannuel – God's Word became flesh.
The God of all creation became a tiny babe in a manger.
The church recognizes the Day of Epiphany as being January 6 – the first day after the twelve days of Christmas – but, most churches celebrate on the Sunday closest to January 6.
(So, sometimes Epiphany Sunday is a couple of days before, and sometimes a couple of days after January 6.)
It may surprise you to know that many cultures of the world make far more to do over the twelve days of Christmas and Epiphany than they do over Christmas day itself.
In fact, Epiphany is one of the oldest days of celebration recognized by the church – they celebrated the Day of Epiphany for several hundred years before anyone thought of celebrating the day of the birth of the baby Jesus.
Truth be told, I think we should do far more with the twelve days of Christmas and Epiphany than we do.
So today, on this Epiphany Sunday, we remember the story:
We remember that thousands of years ago those mysterious strangers were heading toward Bethlehem.
As everyone knows, they came to Bethlehem "following yonder star."
According to convention they were three kings who made their way to the stable where Jesus was born.
They made their journey in fulfillment of the prophecy of old:
"The Lord will rise upon you and God's glory will be seen over you. The nations will come to your light, even kings to the brightness of your rising."
According to tradition those kings had decoded the secrets of the stars;
they realized that the mysterious light in the sky brought news of a new ruler.
So they traveled toward Bethlehem in homage to the one who would eventually rise to a position of preeminence and power.
But when the magi told their story to King Herod it touched off his paranoia and fear.
Suspecting that Herod would want this pretender to the throne put to death, the three visitors paid a brief visit to the manger,
left their gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh,
but departed for home by another way.
So three ancient monarchs followed a star to a place where a child was born... so what?
What does that series of events so long ago have to offer us, here in the modern world where star-gazing and even the title of King seem to convey such little power?
You have, no doubt, heard that is the oft quoted advice of Ralph Waldo Emerson:
Hitch your wagon to a star.
Hitch your wagon to a star.
That was the philosopher's way of saying that all of us need high ideals, a commanding sense of purpose, great ambitions.
Well, these days, we are pretty apprehensive, aren’t we?
I don’t know about you, but before hitching my wagon to a star, I’ve learned that I'd better take a closer look at the fine print.
I'd like to read the warning labels and make sure what kind of an adventure I'm signing up for.
Before heading off into parts unknown, I'd like to check and see that the fail safe systems are in order, [wouldn’t you?]
that the seat belts are fastened,
and above all, that the landing gear is operational.
In fact, the story of Epiphany reveals as much about the dangers of star gazing as its promise.
A careful reading of the Bible reveals a number of telling details.
First, we notice that those strange and mysterious visitors to Mary and Joseph and the new baby, are nowhere referred to as kings.
Nowhere is it specified that there were three royal visitors to the Christ child.
Though most modern versions of the Bible translate the Greek word as “wise men” – one calls them a band of scholars, another “some men who studied the stars”, the word is magi – the same Greek word that we use for magician – and magic.
And again, it's plural, to be sure, but we just don't know how many of them there were;
one ancient source puts their number at twelve – another at 120.
And the group might easily have included women.
(Only hundreds of years after the fact have we come to imagine three kings beside the manger. )
In fact, these magi were a common sight in the Middle East of that time.
Magi traveled constantly throughout the Mediterranean world, sometimes playing the part of sorcerers and magicians,
sometimes practicing the burgeoning science of astronomy,
sometimes selling their services as interpreters of dreams, and/or purveyors of wisdom and enchantment in the court of many a monarch.
The magi were descendants of the Medes, a people who once constituted a great empire.
But the Medes were conquered by the Persians and so they lived as a subject people.
Once they mounted a rebellion against their Persian oppressors,
but they were hopelessly overpowered and the rebellion was crushed.
And, from that hour the Medes were relegated to the sidelines of history,
their kings and queens became the gypsies of the ancient world.
They were ministers without portfolio,
They were kings without a country,
They were queens without a crown.
They turned to the stars for guidance because they had no armies,
they had no subjects,
they had no territory to call their own.
They would turn up in all the palaces of the empire ingratiating themselves to the real potentates of the world, but they had no province of their own.
The magi had become prisoners of their own dreams,
hoping beyond hope to recover the lost tribes and territories.
By sheer exertion of wit and skill they managed to maintain a finger hold in the palaces of the empire, but no matter how successful they became,
they could not forget the basic fact that they were a defeated people.
But, then one day the magi of our story saw a star shining in the east.
They saw a strange light on the horizon, and for one last time, the dream of glory beckoned within them.
Once again they gathered their belongings,
they packed their camels,
they carefully wrapped those trinkets of gold, frankincense and myrrh,
and mounted their horses [most certainly, folks of their class and ilk would not ride camels] and they headed out, following yonder star.
Now this is one of the major points of this story, and one of the reasons it is told again and again every year at this time, [don’t miss it]
Like everyone else in the world –
like everyone else in Bethlehem at the time –
like everyone else in Jerusalem –
like everyone else in Rome or in Egypt –
like everyone else in the world –
Until this encounter with the Christ child, they believed that the favors of God belonged to the rich, the powerful and the mighty.
But in Bethlehem they saw the truth.
All of us -
all people -
are simply lost souls looking for a star that will not fail.
And there is no star in the sky that will lead us to the truth.
He is the bright morning star that rises in our consciousness.
He is the light that shines when we see that God has found a dwelling place within us.
And so they turned over their gold, frankincense and myrrh,
not in tribute to a new king,
but in the realization that they would no longer need these trappings of their former life.
Some scholars have even suggested that the gold, frankincense and myrrh were not meant as gifts. Rather these were the tools and instruments of their magical arts.
These were the props they used in spinning their illusions of power.
But what they found in that stable in Bethlehem made these paraphernalia of an ancient superstition suddenly obsolete.
No longer would the magi search in vain for the glory of a forgotten empire.
Now they could live as a free people knowing that God has a sure foothold in the here and now.
All the light we need is here within us.
If only we have the faith and courage to look and see!
When we read the story of the magi carefully
everything is turned around 180 degrees.
This baby Jesus is not glorified because kings come to do him honor,
rather these would-be kings are liberated from their dreams of power and glory and they leave Bethlehem a free people.
More truly free then they had ever been even in former days of imperial majesty.
Now that the hustle and bustle of Christmas are behind us,
now that the ritual of exchanging gifts is past,
you and I are free to receive the true gift of this season.
And that is the same gift which the magi received so long ago in a crowded manger.
In Christ we are freed from the necessity to shore up our lives with the trappings of wealth, power, fame or other forms of stardom.
The deepest satisfactions in life are not those objects of gold, frankincense or myrrh,
not those dvd players,
not those fancy cars,
not those Oscars,
not those superbowl championships or any other honors that the world has to give.
The secret lies not in our possessions,
but in taking possession of ourselves.
It's the light that burns from within that truly counts.
Rather than searching the distant stars for the secrets of our destiny as the magi did,
we need only survey the quiet places of our own hearts.
It is appropriate that we celebrate this season, not with relics of gold, frankincense or myrrh, the trinkets of astrologers.
Instead we turn to the simplest of things,
a word of truth,
a song,
a prayer,
a warm welcome to ones we love,
the struggle to do the work of justice and to fulfill God's promise of peace.
It is about Emmanuel!
In the birth of this baby Jesus,
God has come as close to us as the bones of our own bodies,
as near as the blood coursing through our veins.
He is our bright morning star,
a light that shines within our hearts even when all else fails.
Let us not hitch our wagons to any lesser star than this!
Amen.
The congregation of Christ Presbyterian Church in Drexel Hill, Pennsylvania, USA, experienced this sermon during a worship service on Epiphany Sunday, January 8, 2012.
