Sermon for December 10th, 2023
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 research (the wise men). Basically, Herod gathers all the information he can, 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, charts and graphs, and anecdotal evidence in the world rarely ever change anyone's mind or position. Especially when it comes to politics.
What else does Herod do to get himself out of this political mess? He makes a plan. A plan to win. A plan to defeat his enemy, so he can keep on being right, keep on being safe, keep on preserving the peace (and the status quo). Ultimately, that approach will not prove too effective, either. In politics you can be completely right, you can demolish the arguments of your enemies...and still lose.
No, if you're looking to escape from political gridlock this Christmas, I think the wise men are a much better example to follow in this story. But to see what they did, we're going to work backward, we're going to start with the end result and reverse-engineer the process. We read in the second half of verse 12 that when all was said and done, the wise men "left for their own country by another road." On the surface, that sounds geographical. They took an alternate route. But remember, this is the gospel of Matthew--everything is symbolic, including probably the wise men themselves. They went home (they arrived at their desired destination) but they went by a DIFFERENT WAY. In other words, they were transformed, changed, never the same again. They found a new road. Which is exactly what you do in a political impasse--you look for a new approach, a new path forward.
Backing up one step before that, what happened? Second half of verse 11: "Opening their treasure chests, they offered him (Jesus) gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh." When the wise men set out on a journey, they brought stuff. You know what we call all the things you bring with you on a trip? Baggage. And that has a double meaning. All of us bring lots of baggage on our spiritual journeys, as well as our political ones. We bring it because we think that it's something valuable, to us and and maybe to others as well. But do you really think that myrrh is valuable to a baby? Or frankincense? Gold might be valuable to his parents, but does a baby really, really need gold, either? Value is in the eye of the beholder, but the greatest value to what the wise men did...was that they laid down their most valuable baggage at the feed of the Lord. They let it go. They weren't burdened by it any more.
We bring a lot of golden cows to our political messes--things we think are non-negotiable, concepts or ideas or commitments that we really want for other people to see and recognize. But to get out of our polarized mess, we need to be able to let some things go. To set them down at the feet of the Lord, trusting in him (and not ourselves) to be the ultimate judge of what has worth and value. Maybe the wise men were able to take a different path home because they were traveling lighter. Maybe we can get further in our political impasses if we're willing to lay some things down, too.
Backing up again, right before the wise men laid down their gifts, we read in verse 11 that "On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage." I believe that Jesus is at the heart of all our most profound personal transformations, so this makes sense. If you want to rise up out of any kind of mess--political, financial, social, whatever--you start by kneeling down, worshipping the son of God in prayer.
So. Let's put that all back together, but going forward this time:
If you're worried about the state of the world, if you feel stuck at an impasse in your political conversations and perspectives, or if you're just looking for hope this Christmas season, and a way out of the messes we have made for ourselves, then be wise men and women:
1. Make it a point to kneel before the true king this Christmas--not Herod, not Elvis, not Santa, and not yourself, but the Christ child, God's son, the one who came to save the world as fragile, vulnerable baby lying in a common manger.
2. Lay down your baggage at his feet, all the things you carry in your heart and in your mind, all that you think is important and valuable. Give it all to him, and trust that he will take care of the things that truly matter, the ideas, the arguments... much better than you ever could.
3. Go home a different way than the way you came. I don't mean with your GPS. I mean, look for the new path forward, the one you can take now that you're not carrying so many preconceived and non-negotiable ideas.
Let God's love transform you and radiate through you bringing joy and kindness to the people he places in your path. And if your Christmas conversations get a little political, and a little messy--that's okay, too. By the grace of God, wise men and women have been navigating through it all for thousands of years. And so will you.
