"A Rising Star"

The birth of new stars

January 6, 2013 (Epiphany)

Matthew 2:1-12

¹In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, ²asking, “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.” ³When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; ⁴and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. ⁵They told him, “In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet: 
⁶   ‘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.’”

⁷Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. ⁸Then 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.” ⁹When 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. ¹⁰When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. ¹¹On 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. ¹²And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.

Sermon: “A Rising Star”

“We three kings of orient are.”  Well, not quite.  I wasn’t a king, nor was I particularly wise (just ask my wife).  But any person can be seen as wise when they choose to study one thing all of their lives.   A farmer is wise in the ways of growing things.  A teacher is wise in the ways of teaching things.  A professional athlete is wise in the ways of making ridiculous amounts of money.  My wisdom was in the stars. 

“Magian” we were called, which means astrologers.  Now, if you are picturing someone who promises Capricorns great wealth or Libras troubling conflict all month, you’ve got us all wrong.  We were astrologers long before those silly phone-a-psychic scams.  Perhaps calling us astronomers would be closer to your understanding today.

We were members of a sacred order, made up of so-called “wise guys” from many nations, but most of us wound up in Babylon (which I believe is near what you call Baghdad these days), the seat of learning the lore of the stars.  If you’d like to have a permanent crick in your neck, y’all, become a Magi.  We stared at the stars all the time. 

Often your Bible speaks negatively about us, as sorcerers or soothsayers, conjuring up lies to persuade people away from worshipping God.  While every art and religion is susceptible to the corruption of power-hungry leaders, I, for one, never told lies. 

Through the dance of the stars in the skies, I saw truth in its clearest, brightest form, and followed wherever it led.  I knew the stars by name, memorized their patterns and walked with them like one might walk with their beloved dog.  They were my constant companions, my faithful guides, and often led me to great events.  The birth of that Jewish baby in a nondescript stable was not the first visit I made to a King, led by the patient light of a new star.  But it was my most memorable.

You can’t see a shift in the fabric of the heavens, a light where light never was before, if you’re not looking for it.  Thankfully, we were.  We saw a star rising from the East, and being learned in the prophecies of old – even those that were not our own – we knew that it fit the description of the coming Messiah, the King of the Jews.  A star like that rises once in a lifetime.  Perhaps once in the lifetime of the entire universe.  But once is enough. 

In your nativity plays, this star is pictured as larger-than-life, like a great cosmic spotlight illuminating the path to that child, similar to stage lights on American Idol. 

What an exaggeration: it was a star, ordinary like any other, if you are jaded enough to call any star ordinary.  You also like to think of this star as a heavenly GPS device, perhaps with a monotone angelic voice urging, “Turn your camel left at the next palm tree…wait, recalculating…”

It was not that sort of star, either.  But for those of us Magi, it might as well have been a spotlight or a GPS, we could follow it just the same.  That was our art.

Knowing it foretold of a Jewish king, we first followed that star to Jerusalem, to seek the counsel of King Herod.  This was more out of respect and formality than the need for his wisdom.  That Herod was a nasty piece of work.  Paranoid and insecure, and when those ingredients are mixed with unbridled power: deadly and dangerous.  We did not long linger there. 

His scribes and chief priests proved helpful though, confirming the text we had remembered: “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.’”

Had they realized that they would usher in a new world order with those words, perhaps they would have kept silent.  But, as you know, preachers seldom keep silent, y’all.

Onwards we went, matching the light of that rising star with the light of ancient wisdom, all the way to that little town of Bethlehem.  Bringing kingly gifts, we expected to see an infant who looked somehow different, somehow holy and Godly.  In truth, though, he just looked like an ordinary baby.  Like that rising star looked just like an ordinary star.

 But what makes the ordinary extraordinary is what it can stir within us: the star stirred hope of a foreign, unknown King; the child stirred the most surprising thing of all in us: worship.  We came in formality.  We left in total awe.  The fact that this baby seemed so ordinary was what was remarkable – like a new star shining light where darkness had once occupied, this child filled our hearts with unbridled joy. 

We gave all we had, partly because this greatest of Kings deserved the greatest we could offer, and partly because those worldly possessions of gold and perfume did not seem so impressive anymore.  We had witnessed the true wealth of heaven come down, a shining Godchild, a Star unlike any we had ever seen. 

The joy he brought us made all of those years and years staring at the stars worth it, all of that time spent waiting for what we didn’t even know we were searching for: lasting light, true wisdom, radiant joy.  Like I said before, you cannot see God guiding you through the ordinary, a light where darkness seems so powerful and a hope when all hope seems distant, unless you are looking for it.  I am so glad we were.

We had promised to tell King Herod when we found the child.  But after meeting that child, Herod didn’t seem like such a King anymore.  We returned home by another road, still looking up at the stars, but also with our eyes opened to the light of God come down, shining all around us with each new step.

I tell you my story from so many years ago, with so many false retellings of it, not to set the record straight.  I do not need to be remembered for the awesome journey I made to Bethlehem.  That is why I do not bother telling you my name. 

I tell you my story because I want you to see that the same star that shone on us that night, that led us from a false king to a true king, that led us from duty to worship and from cynicism to wonder, shines still.  After all, it was just an ordinary star. 

If I learned anything from my journey, it is that the face of God looks surprisingly ordinary.  This is why you have to be looking for it to find it.  But when you look, when you open your eyes and heart to the One who weaves together the fabric of this world with true wisdom, you will always find that child once more. 

He will fill your heart with inexplicable joy, and your fitting response will only be to worship, to give all you can in service to others, and to follow that light for the rest of your days. Amen.