Difference between revisions of "Sermon for December 10th, 2023"

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Matthew 2:1-12 (NT p. 2)

2 In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, 2 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.” 3 When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; 4 and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. 5 They 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.’ ”

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

Bless This Mess: Herod & the Wise Men - Politically Messy

A tourist wanders into an old antique shop in San Francisco. Picking through the objects on display he discovers a detailed, life-sized bronze sculpture of a rat. The sculpture is so interesting and unique that he picks it up and asks the shop owner what it costs. "Twelve dollars for the rat, sir," says the shop owner, "and a thousand dollars more for the story behind it."

"You can keep the story" he replies, "but I'll take the rat." The tourist leaves the store with the bronze rat under his arm. As he crosses the street in front of the store, two live rats emerge from a sewer drain and fall into step behind him. Nervously looking over his shoulder, he begins to walk faster, but every time he passes another sewer drain, more rats come out and follow him.

By the time he's walked two blocks, at least a hundred rats are at his heels, and he sees the waterfront, the San Fransisco Bay, in the distance. He walks even faster, and soon breaks into a run as multitudes of rats swarm from sewers, basements, vacant lots, and abandoned cars. No matter how fast he runs, the rats keep up, now in the thousands, so that by the time he comes rushing up to the waterfront, a trail of rats twelve city blocks long is behind him.

With a mighty leap, he jumps up onto a light post, and hurls the bronze rat into San Francisco Bay, as far as he can throw it. Then he watches in amazement as the seething tide of rats surges over the breakwater into the sea, where they drown. Shaken and mumbling, he makes his way back to the antique shop. "Ah, so you've come back for the story," says the owner.

"No," says the tourist, "Actually, I was wondering if you have a bronze politician."

We all love to hate politicians... but most of us seem to have pretty strong political opinions ourselves, especially if someone brings up the right hot-button issue (or the wrong one). And that is bound to happen at Christmas time, when distant co-workers and slight acquaintances gather for Christmas parties, or extended families gather for Christmas dinner. We live in a highly polarized culture, where it seems like every political position (depending on who espouses it) is either the last, best, great hope for humanity, or else the end of the world as we know it. There's no in between. What a mess.

I study a lot of history, and I can tell you that whether you go back in time 100 years, 1,000 years or 2,000, people in most places were just as polarized, just as anxious, and every bit as much convinced that their political position was the reasonable one, while those who disagreed them them were idiots, monsters, or worse.

This is certainly true in 1st century Palestine, around the time of the very first Christmas. The Jewish people at this time were divided into basically two political parties--those who cooperated with their Roman overlords, and those who resisted. It was actually a little more complicated than that--you could break each party into smaller factions based on "how" they resisted or "how much" they cooperated. And there were reasonable arguments on each side: If you cooperated with Rome, you might be labeled as a sell-out, betraying your people and your ethnicity. But if you didn't cooperate, you could be labeled a rabble-rouser, a trouble-maker, threatening the very fragile peace not just for yourself, but for everyone. If you cooperated with Rome, there was much to gain in power, wealth and influence. But those who resisted claimed that God would reward them more than Caesar ever could.

Chief among the cooperators (or should I say "King" among them) is Herod. He's King Herod because the Roman Senate appointed him as King of the Jews, which (as you might imagine) did not sit very well with those in the resistance party. Matthew--the author of the gospel of Matthew--is probably in the resistance camp. He portrays King Herod as a supreme villain, a monster even, who later in the story orders the execution of all Jewish boys under the age of two.

To the cooperators on the other hand, Herod is remembered a bit differently, as "Herod the Great" the one who brought peace and stability to the Middle East for over three decades, the one who rebuilt the temple in Jerusalem, the one who brought clean drinking water into the city.

Do you see the familiar political lines beginning to form? What a mess!

And into this political mess come...some foreigners. The wise men. The word in the original Greek text is μαγοι, or "magi" which literally means "firefighters"--specifically firefighters from the deep south. We know they were firefighters from the deep south because we read that "they came from a fahr." Just Kidding. Actually they came from the East. And μαγοι simply means astrologers.

There's been a lot of speculation about the wise men throughout Christian history. At some point in the medieval era they got promoted to Kings (hence the song "We three kings"). The Bible doesn't actually call them kings anywhere, nor does it specify how many of them there were, although from the three gifts listed, it is often assumed there were three.

In fact, many modern biblical scholars think the wise men are entirely the invention of Matthew, who is trying to introduce Jesus as the new Moses. In the Old Testament, wise men come to Pharaoh (the Egyptian King) to warn him about the prophesied birth of a special child who will deliver the Jews from Egyptian oppression. Pharaoh, in fear and anger, orders that all male Jewish infants be killed, but baby Moses escapes and eventually flees into the desert.

In Matthew's story, wise men come to King Herod to warn him about the prophesied birth of a special child who will deliver the Jews from Roman oppression. Herod, in fear and anger, orders that all male Jewish infants be killed, but baby Jesus escapes and eventually flees with his family (somewhat ironically) to Egypt.

Whether or not there really were wise men, I think, is impossible to prove historically one way or another. And in any case, to do so would be missing the point entirely. In our biblical story, the wise men are foreigners, outsiders--just like us, when we read this story about a place halfway around the world over 2,000 years ago. The wise men have seen something bright and shiny, so they are curious about what it is. They think they may know something, so now they're about to open their mouths...and create a political mess.

Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? Notice, in verse 1 and 2, that they don't come straight to the king to ask their question. They just show up in the city and start asking around. Which is a great way to attract a lot of attention.

"When Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him." Now that's an interesting statement. Why would Herod, a grown man, a king with the full backing and support of the Roman Empire, be afraid of a baby? What's more, why would all of Jerusalem be frightened of this? Weren't the Jews supposed to be looking forward, eagerly, to the arrival of the messiah?

The problem is that Jesus is not the first messiah to show up in Jerusalem. And the ones that showed up before him...it didn't end well for them, or for the citizens of Jerusalem who got caught up in the collateral damage. Hopefully you can see how Herod and Jerusalem are right to be worried about this new potential disruption to the fragile peace.

What a mess. What do you do, at Christmas-time, when you find yourself in the middle of a political mess?

King Herod does his homework. He does some research, and finds out where the messiah is supposed to be born. He consults with his consultants, then he consults with the latest news-bringers (the wise men). Basically, Herod gathers information, which is not an entirely bad thing to do in a political mess.

Unfortunately, it's not that effective, either. All the facts, figures, quotes, testimonials and anecdotal evidence rarely ever change anyone's mind or position. Especially when it comes to politics.

1. The wise men were following someone else's star. As ancient astrologers, they likely believed that stars were connected to people. A bright new star in the heavens was a sign of an important new person on earth. Each one of the wise men was important in his own right, in his own context, and yet, each one left that context behind to follow a greater light.

Herod, on the other hand, was following the light of his own star. He was most concerned with himself. The wise men were following a star in order to see where and on whom it shone. Herod's only interest was in extinguishing its light so that his own could continue to shine.

The point is this: If we want to be like the wise men, we must always follow the greater light wherever it leads. We must be willing to acknowledge that we may not be the brightest star in the sky.

2. The wise men were following a star. They were on a spiritual journey--they were going somewhere, they had a direction and a dynamic purpose. They were willing to leave behind their place of power and comfort, and journey into an unknown land where they were strangers, where they were vulnerable.

Herod, on the other hand, was going nowhere. It is telling that he summoned the wise men to come to him, and then dispatched them to go find the child for him. Herod is playing it safe, walled up in his fortress, surrounding himself with those who were just as static, just as hardened as he is. Who do you surround yourself with?

If we want to be like the wise men, we need to be ready to drop everything, to leave it all behind, to step out in faith, out of our comfort zones, risking and hoping and believing that God will lead and guide us along the way.

3. Finally (and this one is important given the season) the wise men came to give of themselves. Long journeys were costly, but they judged the sacrifice to be a good one. The brought costly gifts and laid them at the feet of the savior. These powerful men bowed themselves at his feet, in a sign that they were willing to give their allegiance, their worship, their dignity. In other words, they gave much.

Herod, on the other hand, was intent on not giving up anything. He clutched and clung to his riches, to his title, to his power. He hoarded these things, and when a blessed opportunity presented itself, his paranoid, jealous, hatred only tightened his grasp.

So if we want to be like the wise men, we too must be willing to give of ourselves and make sacrifices, to lay all of our treasures at the feet of the true king. We give gifts at Christmastime precisely because of this story--in memory of the gifts that the wise men gave to Jesus. But in our present-buying consumer-shopping Christmas-wrapping frenzy, we sometimes forget that our best and most precious gifts should be offered to the one who gave us everything, including his son.

All of our gifts, and all of our possessions pale in comparison to this. All of our wisdom and all of our power fades away, and all of our long journeys bring us at last to encounter the Christ child, lying in a simple manger, underneath a bright star.

Because even for the wisest of men, even for the most powerful of kings, even for the most hardened of hearts...God's love is still the greatest gift of all.