Preaching text: Matthew 2:1-12
Approximately every seven hundred years, the planets Jupiter and Saturn come into alignment, appearing for a brief time to be not two distinct lights in the sky, but one single bright star. These planets do this while appearing within the constellation of Pisces, low in the sky, near the horizon.
Now, there was once a time when I was quite the amateur astronomer and such an event, known as a conjunction, would be quite noteworthy to see. But in the large scope of things, something that takes place every 700 years isn't really all that big a deal. After all, when you consider the vast quantities of time and space one deals with in astronomy, 700 is a very small number. It may seem a special event, but it really is rather routine.
A conjunction of Mars and Mercury on Feb 11, 2013
But what makes this particular astronomical event so important is its timing. It will next take place roughly 80 years from now, around the year 2100. Now do the math. It’s last visit was around the year 1400. Prior to that 700, and then around the year 1 AD or so. Now do you know what I’m talking about and why this is something I’ve brought up on this day in our worship? Oh, yes, what I have described to you is what some scholars believe is the origin of the fabled "Star of Bethlehem."
Now, this little bit of astronomical curiosity may have just spoiled the story for you. We like the mystery of the story of the magi. The magical star that leads the wise men to the cradle of Jesus. But the reality is, it was just an ordinary astronomical event. It happens all the time. Every 700 years, the star reappears in the sky. Granted, in terms of our lifetime, that's quite a long time. But in the grand scope of things, it really isn't all that special or unique.
But what makes this event special isn't anything that has to do with the event itself. It's what God does with it. God uses it to announce the birth of his son. An event that the magi would be able to interpret. Why? Because of who they were. They were diviners, astrologers, scholars. We’ve called them kings, but they were more accurately “wizards.” Now, they had no real magic, but in more superstitious times, people certainly believed they did. They looked to the stars to determine the signs of the times. And this time, they looked and saw God at work.
I love the Epiphany story because it is such a wonderful mix of the mundane and sublime. It’s a beautiful picture of the way God works in the world. The star is not magic or miracle. It’s a commonplace astronomical phenomena, and yet this mundane thing is turned into a herald for an event that will change the universe. And the people who see it and understand are not royalty or the rich. Even though they had positions of some influence at court, these magi or magicians were often considered to be a bit off kilter. And the gifts they bring. What statements they make.
Gold, however valuable, is the least controversial. It makes perfect sense for a newborn “king of the Jews.” The other gifts, however, make little sense at all.
Frankincense is, well, incense. You burn it and it makes a pleasant odor and a bit of smoke. It’s purpose was to be used in religious rite and ritual. It’s the gift for a priest. One who would go into the temple and make intercession for sins. That’s not something a king would do, and yet, that is what this king, this Christ, will do.
And Myrrh is embalming fluid of a sort. Perfume meant to mask the foul smell of decay that comes from a dead body. "Hello, Mary, Joseph, here’s the stuff you’ll use to bury your son when he dies. Merry First Christmas.” They’re breaking a taboo here. You’re not supposed to talk about the king’s mortality. “Long live the king!” is the more proper gesture. But not only to the magi disregard this protocol, they do it at the side of the child’s crib, a far different and even more inappropriate place than say, his bed in his aged decrepitude. But for this child, the inappropriate oddity of the gift of myrrh reveals a truth. Death is, after all, the Christ’s purpose.
These magi have revealed how truly wise they are. They understand what Jesus’ later disciples often missed. The Christ has come to die to make intercession for our sins. He is both priest and sacrifice, as well as king. His love for his people will lead him all the way to a cross. It’s the Gospel story in a nutshell. All right here, in one single tale from the very beginning of Jesus’ life. And the magi have figured it all out before Jesus is even out of diapers.
I said last Sunday that the Scriptures tell our love story with God. And that’s here too. The magi are weirdos. Oddballs, the strange and the stranger, as brilliant people often are. They stare at the stars with the expectation that the night sky will reveal some manner of deep truth to them, and they weren’t wrong. Their gifts are unconventional and unexpected, and not entirely appropriate (Or, at least not obviously so). And yet, God has brought them into the story to help tell a very important part of it. As a person who often self-identifies as a “weirdo,” I find immense comfort and joy in God’s choice here. He’s embraced the oddball and made them matter.
The star? The star is ordinary, a routine event in the life of the cosmos. Nothing special really, and yet it too is brought into this story to tell us something important. Many of us are not the rich or the powerful, the famous or the important. We’re the ordinary and routine of the world. And yet God again has chosen to embrace us and show us we matter.
That’s Gospel too. All its parts are here. Who Jesus is and what he’s here to do, but also who he’s here to do it for. For you and for me, regardless of who and what we are.
It’s an amazing story. It’s God’s love for us. Perhaps this is why they call it Epiphany. An epiphany is a realization, a revelation, the appearance of an idea. Here we see it in this mundane little story about a group of wizards following a star to bring gift to a child. Here we find again the width and breadth of God’s immense love. Love for you and me, no matter who or what we are. Amen.
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