Epiphany.C.25(04)
Matthew 2:1-12
The Rev. Melanie McCarley
Luke’s account of the birth of Our Savior paints a peaceful, pastoral scene. In his gospel, we find Jesus, safely nestled in the manger surrounded by Mary and Joseph. About the only threatening thing in the picture is a cow, looking longingly (and perhaps hungrily) at the manger, once filled with hay. In Luke’s gospel, angels sing in the heavens while shepherds hasten to see the newborn babe.
Fast forward to Epiphany—and we arrive in a strange, if not threatening place in the Gospel of Matthew. We discover that today we need to relinquish our picture of a peaceful nativity scene and see the holy family as individuals surrounded by the threat of evil and the promise of political intrigue. All is not safely gathered here—instead, soon-all too soon, the little family will find itself on the move in an effort to flee the wrath of King Herod and escape to safety in the bordering country of Egypt.
Here, in Matthew’s Gospel, the Wise Men from the east find themselves to be both the cause of the Holy Family’s trouble, and to some extent, its protectors as well. They arrive in Jerusalem asking: “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews?” They don’t know that King Herod, despite his renown as a ruthless fighter, cunning negotiator and subtle diplomat, was also disposed to paranoia (either real or imagined—or, more likely, a bit of both). They do not know that Herod harbors a suspicion of all those who would hold a potential claim to the throne. Indeed, Herod’s increasing fear of revolt and usurpation have led him to murder not only his wife Mariamne, but also his sons Alexander and Aristobulus. Of Herod it was said, “It is better to be Herod’s hog than to be his son.” Understanding this about Herod helps us to better comprehend why not only Herod, but all of Jerusalem, was frightened when Herod learned of the birth of one who would be known as King of the Jews. The Wise Men know nothing of this. And so, supposing the best path towards finding the prince is to go to none other than a King himself, they arrive at Herod’s doorstep asking for directions. Herod, who despite his other less-than-noble qualities, is no fool says: “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.”
The Wise Men follow the star and arrive at the house where Joseph was with Mary and offer their gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. Then, being warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they return to their own country by another road.
In this story there is mystery, intrigue and suspense. I wonder, why these wise men are looking for a child? Certainly, in an era where childhood death was commonplace, why would a person (particularly a wise one) place their hope for the world in little more than a baby? Shouldn’t they have waited—and begun their search when this holy child had grown old enough to prove his mettle in the political, theological or economic realm? I don’t know about you, but if I were searching for a king, I’d be looking for the most able person around—not someone in swaddling cloth.
Yet, it is true (is it not) that a child is itself the embodiment of hope. Looking at the face of a newborn, don’t we all look for the possibility of what that child will become? In no small way, children are the hope of the world—they personify potential.
So, perhaps, on this Epiphany Sunday, we should consider what made the Wise Men wise? It may be that part of the answer is to be found in the fact that these people weren’t trapped by preconceived notions of what kingship entailed. They were willing to search outside the box. They weren’t convinced that kings lived only in palaces, nor were they fooled by Herod. They looked at a star, and trusted the heavens more than they trusted the conventions or expectations of their day. Interestingly enough, precisely what made the Wise men wise, would not necessarily translate into wisdom in our own day and age and the culture in which we live. That’s something to consider.
In the end, the difference between the Wise Men and myself (and perhaps a good deal of the world) is that these men weren’t looking for proof, they were searching for promise. These individuals placed their trust in expectation, not in a well written resume, with a healthy number of recommendations to back it up. What’s more, they were willing to search for their king in unexpected and unlikely places, rather than confining their search to where most of us would expect a king to be found. Perhaps that is why Herod himself missed the mark in searching for this holy child—he looked for the obvious, and so overlooked God.
The question we must ask ourselves is this: Do we, also, overlook God? Could it be that we, too, find ourselves lured into the trap of preconceived notions of what God should be and where God is to be found? Consider your ideas of God: Is God an old man seated on a throne in the heavens; Is God impervious and indifferent to the plight of humanity? Is God angry? Does God only judge—or does God come to us, in our humanity—eating, drinking and laughing with saints and sinners alike in order to save us? Is God found only in church—or in the workplace as well? Does God love us? How was it that people, living in a distant land and practicing a different faith, were able to see in the heavens a promise of God to all people—and those closest to Jesus missed the holiness of the Almighty in their own town?
As we begin a new calendar year, perhaps we should turn from making the expected resolutions—spend more time with family, less time on social media, eat less, lose weight, exercise more, yadda, yadda, yadda, and instead resolve to ask God to help us become wise—opening our hearts and minds to search for God in the unexpected places, willing to hear about God from people who look or speak differently than ourselves. Resolve to open both your mind as well as your heart, to search the unlikely places for the holy—and in so doing, to find yourself surprised and gladdened by the presence of God in your life and in our world. Resolve to become wise. In Jesus’ name. Amen.