Going Home By A Different Route
David C. Myers
January 6, 2007
Epiphany Sunday
Communion
Matthew 2:1 - 12
Text: ". . . they departed to their own country by a different route."
. . . Matthew 2:12b
They story of the Magi, or the Three Kings as later tradition has evolved, has always been one of my favorites. But before I talk about it - well, . . . I have this thing about Biblical accuracy. So please indulge me while I try to correct a few misconceptions about this story.
The stars of this story were Magi (short for magicians, or astrologers) but they were not Kings - that is a late European tradition. Also it should be noted that no where in the story is the actual number of Magi specified; only that three types of gifts were presented. Likewise, no where in the story are these Magi named.
Now that I have satisfied my need for Biblical accuracy, I can proceed. And, despite the strength of the non-Biblical tradition, as I have grown older my appreciation for the story has increased.
Have you ever gone hiking in the woods? If you have, you know that eventually one of your goals is to get out of the woods. But even as you hike in the woods, you probably have some kind of destination in mind. In my childhood, woods weren't very far away. If I went into the woods behind my house, it was usually to go to the spring. If I went to the woods on the other side of our neighborhood, it was to go to the "swamp pond". In each case there were trail markers to guide me - trees that had distinguishing features, rocks that marked the path. Old tree stumps, or fallen trees. Sometimes walking along the path was so revealing - like when an owl would hoot, or a fox or deer would appear in the distance - that going on the journey was almost a destination in and of itself.
But life isn't always that way. There are times we can feel lost and confused; as we see in this exchange in Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, the children's story that is a wonderful study in logic:
"Cheshire Puss," Alice began, rather timidly. . . . "Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"
"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to," said the cat.
"I don't much care where . . ." said Alice.
"Then it doesn't matter which way you go," said the cat.
. . . from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll
Back to the story of the Magi. Unlike Alice, where the Magi were going, and, just as importantly, how they would get back were very important. And this is why this story has become for me, in many ways, a guiding star. It helps me know - not necessarily where I'm going - but that I am being led on a faith journey.
The story is important for two reasons. One is that the story expresses an incredible amount of wisdom in twelve short verses. The second is because it raises the kinds of questions that in a symbolic way lead me much the same way the Magi were led. And although I'm not fully sure of where my faith will lead me, I am unlike Alice in her conversation with the Cheshire Cat; for I care deeply about the direction in which I am pointed by this story, and by the things that guide me.
Dr. Jose Franquiz was my philosophy professor in college who said "it is not the answers you give, but the questions you ask that are important." This morning, while celebrating the January 6 Feast of the Epiphany, which in the Western cultures centers on the Magi's visit to the Christ child, I want to share some of the wisdom of which I have at least passing acquaintance from this story. And then I also want to share the questions and challenges raised and the kind of responses to the story that are still being formed, but none-the-less are also the trail-markers of my faith journey.
It is inadequate to deal with the truths of this story in anything less than a fell-blown sermon for each one, for in this story told by Matthew much of the Gospel is revealed. In that sense the story of the Magi is a mini-Gospel. For examples:
1.) First, we note that people come from afar from different cultures, faiths and perhaps races and by many ways to worship Christ; and we recognize the wisdom of that. As a church in a denomination with the motto, "Open Hearts, Open Minds, Open Doors", we strive to be inclusive of all people of any age, economic standing, race, and culture. The key words are "open" and "all people". No one - no matter what - is to be excluded from worshipping here or being welcomed into our fellowship.
2.) Secondly, we see the truth that when these Magi arrive they reveal to us all that there is no place - even in an animal barn - that is too lowly to kneel in. No much more needs to be said, even though this is a very difficult lesson for us in such an upwardly mobile culture and such a wealthy suburb in which we live.
3.) Thirdly, we also see that a star that leads shepherds and kings can also go unobserved by others, especially those like Herod who could be threatened by its presence. But then the star was only a sign; and a sign is only that - a sign. And how many signs do we pass by not noticing them in our travels? The choice remains ours: to journey toward the star; or, to stay stuck where we are.
Actually, that last truth comes through powerfully in the story. Although Herod and "all Jerusalem" (as Matthew refers to the urbane Jerusalemites who surrounded the King) lived only six miles north of Bethlehem, they never even saw the star until the strangers - the Magi - from distant lands pointed it out to them. Perhaps they were too much in love with and blinded by their city lights, the candles and the torches - a sign of their wealth - to see the heavenly light.
4.) Fourthly, going further in the story we see another reaction. And it's no more surprising than the hostility of Herod, although it is more disappointing, and that's the apparent indifference of the chief priests and scribes. You would have thought that they would have been filled with excitement at the fulfillment of the prophecy they all knew so well; that they would have leapt at the chance to join the Magi on the last leg of their journey - all of six miles. Instead, they apparently went back to their books, preferring their faith as one of study rather than a faith of life.
Today the same choices, the same challenges, face all of us: With Herod and those in power, we can choose to be hostile to Christ; with the chief priests and scribes, we can choose to be indifferent to Christ (and even good church people can be indifferent: say, by being devoted to church work, but not the work of the church!); or, we can choose to be with the wise ones - to fall on our knees and worship, offering to Christ our hearts' best treasures.
My suspicion is that these responses to the Christ-Child come about largely based on what is important to us. Hostility was the reaction of Herod because what was important to him was power. Indifference was the reaction of the Scribes and Pharisees because what was most important to them was preservation of the institution. And lastly, openness was the response of the Magi because what they were most concerned with was truth and wisdom.
About 16 years ago I had the experience of following a star - and it led to a revitalization of my faith. Due to the prodding of a parishioner, I was coaxed into traveling to Nicaragua on a two-week work-mission trip. Now, I know this is hard for you to believe, given my current enthusiasm and commitment to the people of Nicaragua. But up until that first trip I was very much a coward, and indeed had turned down two other opportunities. I was concerned for my health, scared for my safety, and also concerned about what others would think about my going to Nicaragua; a country with whom my own country had been in a near state of war for the previous decade. In fact, I was much more certain about why I didn't want to go than why I did. But when you're facing a cold wintry New England and a parishioner comes to you and says she needs spiritual guidance on her February trip to a tropical climate, . . . well?, what would you do??
So, as I left, I didn't know all the reasons why I was going. But like the Magi who traveled great distances, we found that there is no place too poor or too lowly to worship the Christ-Child. And, like the Magi, we presented gifts representative of our wealth - in our case, clothes, school and medical supplies. Through it all, strangely, in the midst of my fears, I felt that I was going to a place to which I felt deeply led.
5.) My fifth and final point. The last verse of the Matthew text - "And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they departed to their own country by a different route." This also points to the effect of an encounter with the holy. The Magi, we are told, did not go back home the same way that they had come. They changed their route. Those who encounter the holy find their lives changed. Life's directions will change, values also change.
Well, I went to Nicaragua in part because I wanted to be in mission to the poor. On retrospect, it's amazing how subliminal the paternalism of our materialism can be. I had relative wealth, education, and was fairly worldly, - so I had something precious to give them. (Wasn't that special of me?!)
Boy, did that image change in two weeks time. For, when I came back, I came back by a different route, because I realized that the poor had been in mission to me - they gave me something far more valuable than any "treasure" we could give to them - they showed me a much deeper faith, a much more vital faith.
Following a star is difficult. From the story of the Magi, we know that most people, especially the learned and the ones in power, either didn't even see the star, or ignore it when they find out about it. And for the Magi who did follow it, they didn't know exactly where it would lead.
So what does following a star mean to us? Perhaps being tired of the deception of peace through power, of truth through status quo, we are intrigued by the direction . . . and a star will lead us.
Our faith is made up of contradictions - you know them well:
• the last being first,
• the mighty being brought low,
• giving up our lives in order to find them.
We, like the Magi, all have moments in our lives when the star appears. The question is, will we follow it? It may not be to Nicaragua, it may not involve leaving home or work at all, but simply to follow a new direction, a new conviction, to change the nature of our relations with those close to us. And when we do then maybe we will be intrigued by the direction and find that we, too, go home by a different route.
Soon we are to receive the gifts from God - symbolic of Christ's suffering and death for us - the gifts of bread and wine. Let us, as we go forward to partake the symbolically making an offering of ourselves, remember that we go also to receive a gift, a gift of cleansing and grace that allows us to more fully give of ourselves.
It is part of the mystery of faith, a mystery made know to us by the bread and wine, a mystery that often poses more questions than answers, but a mystery that intrigues us by its direction and may take us home by a different route.