Let Us Follow the Light

Christmas 2 (Epiphany observ.) + Matthew 2:1-12 + December 2, 2011
Plymouth UCC, Milwaukee

One of my Bible professors, while discussing the material in our course, once told of taking his family and some friends with him on an expedition of the Holy Land.

A fine academic, this professor has credentials a mile long – he knows the historical evidence backwards and forwards, he has been involved in archeological digs and other research projects, he is currently finishing up new Old Testament book translations for a forthcoming Bible edition.

He explained the importance of tempering our eagerness to always be right in biblical studies, using the example of this particular experience.

As they visited various pilgrimage sites – like the Church of the Holy Nativity in Bethlehem – he would interpret for his group as any good tour guide would, leaving off references to the historical inaccuracies that any of the claims surely make. “It doesn’t always impact the lives of the people to go that deep,” he told us. “Sometimes the tradition is more important to hold on to than the actual reality as a form of devotion.”

I say all of this as preface for this: while all of the songs and the theme here today is wonderful, there were not three kings who came to visit Jesus in Matthew’s account of the gospel. They weren’t kings, we don’t actually know how many of the visitors there were, and it does a great disservice to the text.

Sorry, professor.

Let us pray.

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts here in this place be acceptable in your sight O God, our rock forever. Amen.

Remember back to 2007 – four years ago to this day, in fact – when an off-duty New York City construction worker was commuting with his two daughters on an early January afternoon. A young man, a student in his 20’s, had gone into seizure and fell below the platform in between the train tracks as a subway train quickly approached. In a split-second decision, the construction worker leapt down and covered the man as the train passed overhead with just inches to spare.

Both men survived, and the newly-dubbed Subway Hero was even recognized in that year’s State of the Union address for his bravery. To the family of the man who had fallen on the tracks, he was a hero who they viewed as a literal lifesaver. To New Yorkers and the rest of the United States, he was a sacrificial, selfless man worthy of honor. Through it all, however, the man maintained an aw, shucks personality, deflecting the praise as being simply in the right place at the right time.

The Subway Hero – his name is Wesley Autrey, and he still lives and works in New York – captured the attention and imagination of the nation for a while that year. It was a welcome distraction from the scandals and destruction that plagued the news throughout 2006: the Enron trials, the downfall of Ted Haggard, the Mumbai train explosions, the Sago Mine disaster, and North Korean nuclear tests. The U.S. was embedded with no exit strategy, or even hope for one, in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. The earliest signs of the impending financial crisis were surfacing. The good news coming out of New York, the warmth of the story of Mr. Autrey selflessly protecting Cameron Hollopeter gave us a form of respite from the endless media barrage of fear and violence.

The stories of everyday heroes capture our collective imagination, I think, not out of a connection to the prototypical American dream – though I do think they are related archetypes. In addition to being heartwarming, to helping us think better of our own experience and the human condition, they give us a certain meaning and hope. If I were in trouble, real trouble, I can count on my neighbor to step in and help when I’m up against the wall, we might think. It’s not about being a hero, it’s just what one does when they come upon a situation; I know I’d do it, we might say to ourselves.

That internal hope, that internal empowerment, is exactly why Matthew isn’t talking about three kings – or the equally related common false interpretation, three wise men. (Even the esteemed New Revised Standard Version that we read today incorrectly translates the Greek magoi into “wise men.” Other English translations read “magi,” and based upon the time the Gospel writer was working, it would better be translated as the men from the East being magicians or wizards, people who are skilled at a magical art that is generally identified with some level of astrological interpretation.) The Gospel isn’t directing us to pay attention to these men from the East because of their imputed wisdom or power, but precisely to demonstrate the relationship of the two kings that are named in the story: King Herod, and the newborn Jesus Christ.

Herod is a despot and tyrant. He takes comfort in his power and lords over his subjects without real regard for their well-being, instead seeing them as pawns in his game to maintain his position and authority. This is contrasted with the words of the prophet in verse 6, witnessing to the day when a ruler will come who ‘shepherds’ the people. This shepherd rules from a place of humility – indeed his entire authority depends upon his vulnerability, his compassion, his ministry of presence.

There are wise men in this story – learned men steeped in academic knowledge and the tools of interpretation – but they are not the ones from the East. They are Herod’s chief priests and scribes, who function as his key advisers. They possess the learning that Herod and the magi lack; they are the ones who know the prophecy, but it is not to them that the full effect of Jesus’ birth is revealed. Instead they consort with Herod and become party to a plot to kill Jesus as soon as possible.

God’s revelation here and throughout Matthew consistently does not privilege the wise and powerful. The Gospel writer later on, in chapter 11, contrasts the wise with infants, and in chapter 20 again contrasts kings with servants. The magi seek no honor for themselves, and indeed humble themselves in front of the infant king and his mother – Jesus and Mary: a statusless child born to a poor single mother. That the text indicates the magi kneeled before Jesus to worship him and pay homage to him and his mother yet does not express similar action toward Herod is imperative. These magi are certainly wise, but as a result of God’s revelation and not because of their own status or experience. If Jesus as literal infant is contrasted with Herod, the magi as metaphorical infants are to be contrasted with Herod’s advisers.

God is revealing Godself to those outside of the established religious community. The magi are not Jews – in fact, as magicians and wizards, they are outright rejected by the Jewish community. In today’s first reading from Isaiah, we are reminded of the faithful community’s responsibility to be a light to all people, destroying the dichotomy between “in” and “out” to suggest that expansion and restoration are necessarily connected. On Christmas Eve, we heard of God’s angels revealing news of the Christ-child to common shepherds. God’s presence – God’s very self – has been revealed in Jesus as Emmanuel. This was shattering news to a people who believed that God was literally “in the God box,” that God’s presence was contained within the temple in the Holy of Holies, necessarily mediated for the common people by the priests and religious leaders so as not to be overcome.

That Matthew identifies this manifestation of God to those outside of the religious community is testament to the breaking of divisions, to the new life and the new order promised in Jesus Christ – a new covenant between the Creator and the created that brings good news of liberation, empowerment, hope, and promise for all the people and not just those who enjoy a privileged status.

It is ironic that the magi are recast as the kings or wise men here, thus subverting the awesome impact of the true message here – and even supporting those very notions the text is trying to overcome. I think that indicates the difficulty posed by such a message. Liberation and empowerment often come with a certain sense of obligation and responsibility for those being released, and a loss of status, authority, and even freedom, for those being deposed. In imagining the magi as the wise men or the kings, the structure is preserved while the key players simply change – it’s almost as if we simply have new representation in Congress following an election.

But make no mistake: the glory of today is that of the very glory of God, manifested even in the places where we least expect it. Sometimes it is through our own activities, that we are called to be a light to others as from the Isaiah text, or in the example of everyday heroes like Mr. Autrey. Sometimes we are blind to that same light coming from others, as is the case for one of the actual kings and wise men of this story – Herod and his advisers. But there God is, always, showing forth light that graciously, mysteriously, defiantly breaks into human life. Jesus Christ has come. Let us follow the light.

Soli Deo Gloria: to God alone be glory. Amen.