Penelope Bridges
Alleluia, to us a child is born. O come let us adore him, Alleluia.
Our lectionary cycle of readings gives us three choices of Gospel for this second Sunday of Christmas: we can hear the story of the Holy Family’s flight into Egypt; or Luke’s story of the boy Jesus in the Temple; or the visit of the wise men to the manger in Bethlehem. I chose the last option: we are looking ahead just a little today and anticipating the feast of the Epiphany, which will happen officially on Tuesday. I didn’t want you to miss out on singing We Three Kings, and we all know that by next Sunday, Christmas carols will feel like a distant memory.
The Epiphany is also known as the Manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles, and in some parts of the Christian Church it is the day when Christmas is celebrated. That’s due to an accident of history: the earliest Christians didn’t have a firm date for the birth of Jesus – they were much more interested in his death and resurrection – but by the fourth century western Christians were celebrating on December 25 while in the east they chose January 6. Why these two dates?
The explanation starts with the date of the Crucifixion, which the Gospels tie to the Jewish Passover. An ancient scholar calculated that in the year when Jesus is believed to have died, the Passover took place on March 25. A belief developed in the church that the conception of Jesus, which we know as the Annunciation, took place on the same day of the year as the crucifixion, so his birth had to be nine months later, on December 25. Eastern Christians did the same calculation, but they used a different calendar at that time, with the result that they dated the conception and crucifixion 12 days later, putting Christmas on January 6.
Very occasionally Good Friday and the Annunciation fall on the same day in our calendar, and the great 17th century preacher and cathedral dean John Donne wrote a poem about this happening in the year 1608. I won’t read you the whole poem, as it’s quite hard to follow in the Elizabethan English, but Donne writes,
“This Church, by letting these days join, hath shown,
Death and conception in mankind is one.”
That line alone is worthy of some reflection, reminding us that in the moment in which we first come into existence, we are inextricably destined to die. That’s another whole sermon.
So, to today’s Gospel:
Wise people came from the East seeking the King whose star they had observed. We might ask lots of questions about this statement – who were they, where in the East did they come from? – but the questions that jump out for me today are: what made this sign so important that a group of wise people would risk a long journey across dangerous terrain simply to say hi? And, what does this piece of Scripture have to say to us in our faith journey today?
If we have read the whole Gospel, we understand why Matthew makes a big deal of this episode: the birth of Jesus was the beginning of something that would turn the world upside down, and it’s important for Matthew’s readers to know that its significance was recognized by people who weren’t Jewish and who lived far, far away from Israel; it was even recognized celestially, with the appearance of a special moving star. No other birth could even come close to being so historic.
The birth of Jesus wasn’t just for those whom God had originally chosen, but for all people. It expanded the promises of God to all of humankind. And that brings us to the second question: what does it have to do with us?
Every Sunday I welcome the congregation, whoever you are and wherever you find yourself in the journey of faith.
The Bible is full of journeys, starting with Abraham following God’s call to settle in a new land. In each case, God takes the initiative and those who are faithful follow. This is how the life of faith works: we learn to listen for that still small voice, and we learn to trust in what it says to us, so that we can find the courage and imagination to step out into unknown places, confident of God’s blessing and companionship.
The story of the Wise Ones’ journey tells us that even people without our faith can tune in to that voice calling them forth; even people outside of the fold can become important actors in God’s story of salvation. The wise ones were obviously not Jewish, yet they paid attention to what the universe was telling them, and they followed the star through hardship and danger to the place where the incarnate Word of God lay, vulnerable and helpless, God’s precious gift to the world that God loves so much.
And the wise ones proved their wisdom when they heard Herod’s weasel words “Tell me where he is, so that I too may go and pay him homage”; and correctly interpreted them as a euphemism for deadly intent; so they found a different road by which to go home, their lives irrevocably changed, the world still a dark and dangerous place, but with a tiny light shining out from Bethlehem.
The carol that we will sing at the end of the 10:30 service, We Three Kings, brilliantly conveys the complex emotional mix of the birth of Jesus, in the description of three gifts: the gold is to crown him as the true King; the incense honors his divine nature; and the myrrh foreshadows the suffering and tragedy, that must inevitably color the story of one who came into the world to upset the balance of power and to offer transformation to all who are wise enough to accept it.
The prologue from John’s Gospel, that we heard earlier in this season, reminded us that the Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness does not overwhelm it. Even in the darkness of today’s world, where still corrupt power often wins the day and justice is denied, the light of Christ shines out, lighting our way on the journey of faith. God grant that we may have the wisdom to perceive the star, that leads us to the places where we too may kneel in homage and offer our meager gifts.
Alleluia, to us a child is born. O come let us adore him, Alleluia.
