So often have we heard the Christmastime story about the coming of the Wise Men – and sung the time-honored carols about their intrepid following of a yonder star – that probably some can recite by heart the details of the Magi’s bold voyage across field and fountain, moor and mountain.
But what we think we know and remember about the Big Three bearing gifts and traversing afar doesn’t entirely jibe with Matthew’s Gospel telling of the miraculous event.
Though their visit with the Christ Child is traditionally shared as part of the Christmas story, biblical scholars believe that these wise guys from the east – probably astrologers, not kings, coming from a home in what today is the country of Iran – may not have dropped by to see Jesus until as much as two years after his birth. So, the story of their arduous journey and surprise visit doesn’t have to be associated solely with Christmas.
Sure, these gift-bearers – probably more than just the three we sing about – bring to Jesus valuable tokens that connote the uniquely wonderful significance of his birth. Gold symbolizes that Jesus was, and still is, the King of Kings. Frankincense, a type of incense often burned on altars of worship, emphasizes the divinity of Jesus as God in human flesh. And myrrh, an oil often used in embalming, points to his death on the Cross.
Yet, when you start peeling back the layers of this treasured story that seemingly wraps up everything you need to know about Jesus’s birth, you discover some groundbreaking, revolutionary truths that serve well your living long after you un-deck the halls, pack away the holiday trappings, and settle in for a long winter’s nap. Here in Matthew 2, our Scripture lesson for this morning, the evangelist spins not a Christmas yarn but instead shares a story for all seasons. So, listen with all your senses for the Word of the Lord to you this day.
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. (Matthew 2:1-12)
An angel coming to the Wise Men in a dream to warn of Herod’s gory ambitions: That’s the honeyhole of this story.
God’s spiritual messenger returns the Magi by another road, heads them for home by another path – somehow different, someway changed. The star draws them, and the story sends them. Fast forward 2,000-or-so years, and here we are today, somehow gathered in worship around the same scene.
Somehow, the same Scripture has been read, and the same ancient promises have been made: God now includes not just Jews but also Gentiles, non-Jews, in God’s sovereign plans and redemptive purposes. God’s own dearly beloved people now include chosen folks of every race, tribe and language!
Somehow, here we are again following the star, hoping and maybe-even finding the overwhelming joy of an up-close-and-personal encounter with God and the love of heaven come down: The kind of epiphany – the brand of a-ha moment – that, like the Wise Men, sends us down a different way, following a different path, somehow changed into different people; kneeling humbly in worship before the holy One who embodies the fulfillment of God’s promises, and finding in this assembly a place to share your joys and your hurts, as well as your gifts and talents – and your treasure – to fuel God’s work among us.
The Lord is graciously using his dearly beloved people to help build the “spiritual house” that is Christ’s Church. In that “house” Jesus’s followers offer ourselves in a kind of holy, loving service to our God and our neighbor. And in that humble sacrifice of self our identities are affirmed and empowered, and knowing who and whose you are is transformative.
Melba Pattillo Beals was a 17-year-old girl living in Little Rock, Arkansas, when she and eight other students integrated Central High School in 1957.
Spurred by the state’s governor, segregationists flaunted the U.S. Supreme Court’s edict to integrate and attempted to halt integration. The African American students, known as the Little Rock Nine, experienced tremendous adversity in their quest for acceptance by the white majority.
Melba Beals was motivated to continue the fight for integration by her wise grandmother who said, “We are … God’s ideas, [and] you must strive to be the best of what God made you.” Passed from one generation to the next – at once tenderly and mightily – was the gift of identity: Each of us is God’s idea in creation and purpose. The apostle Peter describes it thus –
“You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy. … For you were going astray like sheep, but now you have returned to the shepherd and guardian of your souls.” (1 Peter 2:9-10, 25)
You and I are people whom God has enlivened, for the primary purposes of declaring in word and deed the night-and-day difference that God has made on us. And following this new path of a transformed life, we declare in word and deed God’s same desires for Creation’s shadowy brokenness. God raises Jesus’s friends from death to life to, among other things, point people away from ourselves and toward the person and work of the living God in Christ.
On Monday, Jan. 6, the Church’s feast day of Epiphany, our community lost a strong, colorful thread of our rich, civic tapestry.
The Reverend Monsignor Edward Lechtenberg – “Father Ed” to many – entered eternal life with the Lord. He was a beloved pastor to both Catholics and Protestants, a kind and gentle soul who exemplified the grace of God to all whose paths blessedly crossed with his.
In an interview published last September, Father Ed reflected on the lesson and legacy of his earthly life. He conjured memory of his widowed mother and all that she did for him and his four siblings, who at the time of their father’s death ranged in age from three months to nine years. Of his call to his life’s vocation, Father Ed recalled, “When I started to think about what I wanted to do, the example I received from my mother of being unselfish was very important. She never thought of herself.” To a family member Fr. Ed once said, “Every morning when I say my prayers, I simply ask God, ‘What can I do to honor you today?’”
In prayer with my friend Ed: Lord, where would you have me go today? How do you desire my humble service to your dearly beloved people of every color, creed, and tongue? I am your idea, this day and forevermore, so what are your ideas for me?
At the start of this new year, let the star draw you in, and let the story send you out. The work of Christmas is not a luxury for the privileged few but a roadmap for all gifted with the privilege of declaring, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward all!”
Listen to the Word that God has spoken: Ancient words, ever true!
Pastor Grant M. VanderVelden shared this message on Epiphany Sunday, January 12, 2025, at First Presbyterian Church in Waukon, Iowa, USA. Scholarship, commentary, and reflection by Melba Beals, Doug Bratt, Jeannine K. Brown, Scott Hoezee, and Edward W. Lechtenberg inform the message.