Sermon 12.31.2023: Following the Star (Epiphany Sunday)

Scripture

Matthew 2:1-12

In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, “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.” When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. They told him, “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.’” Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then 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.”

When 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. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On 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. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.

Sermon Text

THE MAGI FOLLOWED A STAR, hoping to bring homage to a king at the end of their journey. But instead of finding this new king in a palace, I imagine they were surprised to find the child in a manger in Bethlehem instead. God is like that sometimes, full of surprises and a great sense of humor.

Now, Epiphany actually falls on January 6. But the Sunday following that day is marked for Baptism of the Lord, so if we wanted to observe this special day of the liturgical calendar together as a congregation, we had to do it on this Sunday. And I was happy to because I’ve always connected with the magi in the Christmas story.

The magi were some of the most unlikely characters to be included in this story. They were the first non-Jewish people to seek out and worship Jesus. They came from some far away land in the east, and if there was anyone that might’ve looked like me in that nativity story, they would’ve been my best bet: three kings from “the orient.”

Asian Americans in the United States, no matter how long we’ve been a part of American history, are still often regarded as “perpetual foreigners.” And growing up in this country, I’ve searched for a sense of belonging somewhere.

Being here, in California now, is a little different because there are generations of APPI families who have lived here and made this place their home. But during the pandemic, and the subsequent spike in Asian American hate crimes, even California couldn’t hide its bias.

And growing up in Texas and becoming an adult in the Midwest, it was painfully obvious that I was different. I never quite fit in with dominant culture. With immigrant parents who hardly spoke English, my distinctly Asian features, and kimchee on my breath (which was not as popular then as it is now!), I was fully aware that I was different from most kids at school. And both they and the grown-up world around me made it clear, that while my differences were tolerable, I shouldn’t play them up. I was to assimilate as much as possible if I wanted to be accepted.

At the same time, my parents reminded me again and again that first and foremost, I was Korean. However, I never felt fully at home in Korean culture either. Each year I lost more and more of my ability to think and speak in Korean, and my English only got better and better. My knowledge and understanding of American history and culture only grew; while, as with most things that have to do with our parents when we’re teenagers, all things Korean seemed to become less and less relevant.

Straddling these two worlds, I searched for a place where I might feel fully accepted, fully embraced, fully at peace with the seeming paradoxes that reside within me.

The magi, too, searched. And they journeyed from afar to seek the promise of hope, the promise of a new reign on earth and for the birth of a king who would usher that in.

These days, we picture them as kings themselves; after all, the song goes: “We three kings of orient are...” Yet there’s nothing in the Greek word magoi to indicate that they were kings. Magi were magicians, astrologers, wise men, yes, but not kings.

The magi were travelers, seeking something, following a star with high hopes that it would pay off. I bet by the time they arrived in Jerusalem they were worse for the wear. Looking tired, haggard, ready to just stay in one in place for a bit.

And when they finally got to Jerusalem, to the palace, they learn that they were off by about six miles. Their journey ends not in the metropolitan city of Jerusalem with all of its glamour and importance, but in Bethlehem with all of its modest promises.

Bethlehem is a “rural place, dusty, unnoticed and unpretentious.” And when they finally arrive to where the star has stopped, they find all that they were seeking but never knew they needed. And even they, these worn-out, strange foreigners from the east, are welcomed to God’s natal party.

Today we remember Bethlehem; how it is bombed and under siege. And we pray for the people there this in Christmas season when Christmas was not able to be celebrated in that same way.

Perhaps we should remember the presence of the magi on that first Christmas.

For me, the presence of the magi in Matthew’s birth narrative always pointed to the radical inclusion and hospitality found in the Christ child.

Even at the beginning of Jesus’ life, we see the dividing walls between races and cultures breaking down. It says in Ephesians: “Through Christ, those who once were far off have been brought near… Jesus created in himself one new humanity proclaiming peace to those who were far off and peace to those who were near,” (Eph 2:13-18).

I’m sure each and every one of us has been “far off” at some point. We’ve all felt alienated, alone, like we don’t belong. But in Christ, at the foot of the manger in Bethlehem, I find where I belong, where we all belong.

Ian Simkins writes:
“2000 years later, we discover that ‘outsiders’ don’t stay outside. They’re invited in, integral to the story. If today you find it unlikely that God would include someone like you, this part of the story unequivocally tells us that God does.
The magi remind us that the breadth of God’s grace is scandalously enormous.

 Today, we remember God’s love for and relentless pursuit of [those considered] outsiders.”

Now, the magi are the ones who come bearing gifts. And my kids have heard me say many times, that the only reason our family does gifts on Christmas, is to remember how (1) Jesus is the greatest gift and (2) because the magi came bearing gifts.

I think it’s safe to say my kids are very grateful that the magi brought gifts to Jesus because this means that we can all share in that gift-giving tradition. And no matter how many times I try to impress upon them that Christmas is about the birth of Jesus, presents seem still to matter an awful lot to them.

So, what to make of these gifts? Gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

There’s a funny meme on social media that says that after the wise men, the wise women brought fresh diapers, casseroles, and formula. You know, useful things for the birth of a new baby.

But gold, frankincense, and myrrh have their place in tradition and in scripture, and perhaps they weren’t so odd. There are two explanations for why the magi brought these particular gifts. The first, referred to in the carol ‘We Three Kings’, interprets the gifts as symbolizing three aspects of Christ’s future: gold representing kingship, frankincense meaning worship, and myrrh indicating his death and mourning.

An alternative tradition holds that Mary and Joseph used the gold to pay for the stable, the frankincense to perfume it, and the myrrh as an ointment for the new-born baby. David Cottis from London writes, “Since, to Christians, Christ represents the meeting-point of the mystical and mundane, the ‘Word made flesh’, there’s no reason why these traditions should be taken as contradictory.”

So the magi came bearing gifts, and we continue to give gifts to one another remembering that in each of us, is the image of God and that we are indeed the hands and feet of Christ.

In today’s story, the magi also follow a star. And that “star of wonder” that guided them then continues to serve as a beacon for all of us who are restless for our true home.

Whether we were born right here in San Francisco, or far away, in another country or hemisphere, our spiritual journey leads us each year to Bethlehem where Christ was born.

And under the meager roof of a shoddy barn, just like the magi, we fall on our knees in wonder and worship the baby who would change the course of human history, bringing together all the paradoxes of the world: birth and death; stranger and friend; god and humanity.

Jan Richardson’s poem that was shared at the Welcome ends with:
But we tell you, you will wonder
at how the light you thought you had left behind
goes with you, spilling from your empty hands,
shimmering beneath your homeward feet,
illuminating the road with every step you take.

So what stars are guiding you today? And how are you being led to the Christ child?

Is there an author or book that points you on your way? Perhaps for you it’s church or worship or volunteering that guides you to Jesus. Maybe it’s your children or your parents or other people in your life who shine like stars and share the light of Christ. I think, often times, what leads us to Jesus are those everyday things we don’t even notice.

Take the star of Bethlehem, for example. It was an unusual sighting; a bright star that guided these magi. But I wonder how many people even looked up into that night sky and if they did, did they even notice it? Sometimes, that which leads us to the holy is utterly ordinary.

We started doing “Star Words” on Epiphany just a few years ago. These words we receive can offer us guidance in the coming year. And following the sermon, you are invited to come forward and take a star.

Like the magi, you are invited on a journey to follow that star. The word on the star may not resonate immediately, or you may love it instantly. But trust that the word you receive is a word from God.

Place it where you will see it regularly throughout the year, and I hope you will consider God’s movement in your life through, around, and in connection to your star word. Ultimately, may it lead us to Jesus again and again in 2024, just as the star led the magi.

So come forward and get a star. If you have mobility challenges, we can bring you a star, just let the ushers know. Come now, and within the walls of this sanctuary, take a journey like the magi did, following the star and then returning to your pews by another way.