Matthew 2:1-12
University Presbyterian Church
Chapel Hill, North Carolina
Epiphany Sunday January 8, 2012
I know Christmas seems almost a distant memory to some. The holiday travels (or the holiday guests) are behind us. Some of us have had two full work weeks since then, but liturgically speaking, only today do we reach the conclusion of Christmas. The day before yesterday was the day of Epiphany, also known as Twelfth Night, or the last day of Christmas. We celebrate Epiphany this morning. Merriam-Webster defines lower-case "epiphany" as "a usually sudden manifestation or perception of the essential nature or meaning of something." But the day we mark today is upper-case Epiphany, which means a "manifestation or revelation of God," and particularly the revelation Matthew describes in our text this morning, the revelation of God in the Christ-child to the magi... and thus to the Gentiles... to our forbears.
We don't know much about the magi at all. They are such mysterious characters that it is no wonder so many stories and legends have grown up around them. Of course, therein lies a problem, because many of those stories and legends have no moorings in the Biblical story and thus tend to obscure the meanings Matthew is trying to communicate in his telling of the story. There were three of them... they rode camels: that sort of thing.
So what do we know about these wise men? Pastoral theologian Bill Arnold offers six observations from Matthew's text that help us understand them a bit better:
First, these wise people had been studying. They knew their history. They hadn't merely stumbled onto this momentous event. They had searched their own past and their sacred texts, and the result of their study was a readiness, or at least a willingness, to recognize the sign when it appeared.
Second, these scholarly folk did not keep their noses in the books all the time. They were also keen observers of the world all around them. Without those two characteristics...the Epiphany might well have been missed.
Third, they were willing to seek confirmation of what they had learned and seen. They... put their feet...in motion to follow this sign. They took a chance on being proven wrong...or right!
Fourth, they were willing to ask for directions along the way, even if they were wrong in their choice of resources (Herod). [This observation, it seems to me, supports the idea that some of the magi were women.]
Fifth, having found the confirmation of their convictions, they responded with all the [homage and] gratitude they could muster.
Sixth, after seeing the child and having all their hopes realized, they still remained vigilant and attentive - open to further visions and insight - and thus were responsive to their dream-delivered warning to go home by another road.[1]
Those characteristics, I might add - study of Scripture and awareness of the world, a willingness to act, to seek help, to demonstrate awe and reverence, and to be vigilant and attentive - are the same qualities we looked for in the church officers we ordain and install today. There's a lot before us in these days, and we need people of such character. But, I digress.
So, here's what we know: the magi came from the East, and thus that they were Gentiles, not Jews. We know they had a star to guide them, but not so precisely that they didn't have to ask for directions from Herod and his constituents. And we know that Herod and his constituents and the magi had one thing in common: they were all recipients of the "epiphany" we celebrate in these days.
Herod and his entourage were not Gentiles; they were Jews, yet they received a revelation of the birth of a child. They received it oddly enough from these magi as they came to ask the king of the Jews where the new King had been born; only then did Herod and his scholars discover that they had had that news all along in their scriptures. Now remember, these were people who gathered every Sabbath around the Book, the law and the prophets. They had access to sages of old. And yet they did not know, did not understand. Herod, representing the entire religious establishment, was surprised when the magi come seeking the Christ-child.
The wise men, on the other hand, did not have the scriptures. They did not have access to the traditions of Judaism and its ancient wisdom. Their epiphany came in nature, in the form of a leading star. Also, since they were not Jews, they seemed the least likely persons to receive a revelation. The popular wisdom of that day said that only the chosen people could receive this revelation. Yet here were outsiders, Gentiles, who saw a star, rightly interpreted its meaning, and went in search of the One whose birth it announced. All through the Old Testament there were times when God chose outsiders as instruments of the divine will, but still the coming of the Magi seemed to surprise people.
And therein is the clever part of Matthew's way of telling the story, says K.C. Ptomey. Neither of these groups - neither Herod nor the magi - have everything they need to find the child. The people with the scriptures need the outsiders to help them understand. The outsiders, with the revelation in the stars, need the scriptures to help them understand what it is that is being revealed. Matthew's stunning point seems to be that God's truth is revealed to Jew and Gentile alike, but to each only partially. Jew and Gentile, religious insider and religious outsider, need each other in order fully to understand the manifestation of God's truth. Another way to say it is this: God has a way of working outside the religious establishment as well as within it. Religious folks do not have the corner on God's truth. In fact, as New Testament scholar Alan Culpepper points out, "The magi were looking for the Messiah, but the Jewish religious leaders did not join them in the search, and as a result they did not witness the child Jesus. A new era was dawning, but those who had the Scriptures missed it because they did not join with the magi in their quest."[2]
More often than not, it is outsiders who see best. Matthew is not content to make this point just here in chapter two. He keeps coming back to it again and again throughout his gospel. For example, he tells of the Canaanite woman, a non-Jewish foreigner, who comes to Jesus seeking help for her child. Jesus says to her rather curtly, "I came for the lost sheep of the house of Israel, not for foreign dogs like you." But she catches him with her reply, "But Lord, even the dogs are allowed the crumbs that fall from the master's table." And Jesus responds, "Woman, great is your faith." (15:21 ff.) At another point, Matthew tells of the centurion who approaches Jesus because he has a servant who has been paralyzed. The man does not dare invite Jesus to his home, as he knows Jews are not allowed to be in close contact with Gentiles. So he says to Jesus, "Only say the word, and my servant will be healed." And Jesus says to him, "Truly I tell you, in no one in Israel have I found such faith." (8:5 ff.) Remember also the centurion on watch at the crucifixion. Seeing all that happens at Golgotha he proclaims, "Truly this man was the Son of God." (27:54)
Matthew simply cannot let go of this important point; he wants us so to grasp it. God's revelation is not limited to any one nation or religion or people. When God's Messiah comes into the world, this manifestation of truth and love and goodness is not limited by narrow human boundaries. It is available to all people... to all people. The sign of the star is a sign to all.
The story of the wise men has an edge to it, I believe, that speaks to what has been going on in recent years in our increasingly globalized world, and particularly in our own culture. Our nation has become increasingly religiously pluralistic, so much so that one wonders how long it will be before Christianity ceases to be the dominant religion in America. At the same time, our culture has become increasingly secularized, and at times the raising of voices of faith and voices of conscience may seem to be about as effective as whistling into the wind.
Now, some folks have felt the need to circle their theological wagons in an attempt to protect themselves against what appears, to them, to be the "enemy." There are voices in our denomination... and, in truth, in all denominations... calling us to do so, to perpetuate an "us/them" frame of mind and to wage our battles. It is as though they think God can not reveal God's grace and goodness and truth to anyone but them! It is as though they think God cannot be at work in the so-called "secular" world. Matthew's wonderful story of the wise men should give us reason to pause and to think critically on such an attitude.
Do I believe that Jesus Christ is the light of the world? Yes, I do. Is he the eternal Word made flesh? Yes, I believe he is. Is he the way, the truth, and the life? Yes; that I believe. And I believe that if the world would only live after the manner of Christ, we would not be in the mess in which we find ourselves in these difficult days. But I also believe that God is larger than we can conceive God to be. I know from our history that God uses people outside our circle to judge us, to teach us, to humble us at times, and to remind us of who we are meant to be. I think that happens globally to nations and peoples that assume too much and claim too much and act too much as though they are the only ones that count. I know it happens to religious people who do the same. It happened to God's own chosen people once... at Bethlehem... when it took some outsiders to help them see the light... light that shone like a bright-beaming star above a rude stable... a guiding star that still shines... for those who have eyes to see.
[1] William V. Arnold, "Matthew 2:1-12: Pastoral Perspective," Feasting on the Word, Year B, Volume 1, Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009, 212, 214.
[2] R. Alan Culpepper, "Matthew 2:1-12: Exegetical Perspective," Feasting on the Word, Year A, Volume 1, Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009, 217.
















