Sermon – The Rev. Dr.
Leah D. Schade, PhD
Epiphany Sunday, Jan.
5, 2014
United in Christ Lutheran Church, Lewisburg, PA
There’s something about stars that have captured the
imagination of human beings from the time they gathered around ancient fires,
watching the sparks fly up into the darkened sky.
Long before there were
Kindles and iPods, televisions and movies, or electric lights of any kind to
illuminate our nights, the stars were the only companions to humankind once the
sun went down. And so they would watch
those tiny pinpricks of light, looking at them night after night, observing how
they would seem to move slowly across the sky.
Soon they were seeing images in the sky, the stars becoming points in
connect-the-dots pictures of great warriors, animals, gods and goddesses. After gazing at the night sky in and out of
seasons, these early astronomers began to recognize patterns of movement,
predicting the location of the stars according to the time of year. They learned they could guide the direction
of their travels by coordinating them with the stars.
They began to give names to the lights that were most
prominent, and those names are still with us to this day – the planets we call
Mars, Jupiter, Venus, and so on. They
assigned the names of these fixed stars to the constellations known as the
Zodiac.
And they saw a connection
between the motions of the stars and planets to life here on Earth, a practice
known as astrology. They would try to make sense of the world
around them, make predictions about significant human events by watching the
signs in the skies. When they observed
something out of the ordinary, it caught their attention.
And so these wise men in Matthew’s story, also known as the
Magi, were both astronomers and astrologers.
They were like early versions of scientists making observations, but they
also tried to interpret the meaning of what they saw. And in the year 2 B.C. when they saw the
planet Jupiter, one of the brightest stars in the sky, pass very close to the
star Regulus, “the King’s star” as it was known, they knew something amazing
had happened among humankind. Today
astronomers can use sophisticated instruments and planetariums to reconstruct
what the stars looked like in the sky on any given night in history. And they know that over a period of eight
months in that year Jupiter passed by Regulus three times, appearing to draw a
crown in the sky. And then in the ninth
month, Jupiter and Venus – the two brightest stars in the sky – passed so near
to each other in their planetary travels that they appeared to fuse into a
single brilliant star in the sky.
The
Magi knew that this occurrence was nearly unheard of, and so they were
compelled to follow where that star seemed to lead them. And that is how they came to be in Bethlehem
of Judea inquiring about a newborn king.
They were overjoyed to find the home of the child called Jesus.
His parents, however, were most likely perplexed by the
sudden visit of these strange Magi from distant lands. Star or not, imagine how strange, how
disconcerting it must have been for Joseph and Mary to open the door to their
home and find these foreigners standing on their door step. The author Elizabeth Berg in her creative
imagining of that scene in her book The
Handmaid and the Carpenter describes how Joseph was very suspicious of
these strangers, with their odd clothes, their foreign language, and their
different looking faces and skin tones. He
wanted to keep these foreigners out of his house, away from his family. But they insisted on giving his newborn son
gifts befitting a king.
Many of us would have reacted similarly to Joseph. We are taught to be suspicious of
strangers. We are told that foreigners
are not to be trusted, that they are out to get us or take what we have. Reams of newspaper pages and scads of blogs
are written about why strangers from other lands should not be welcomed, why
they should be kept out, and the harm that they are doing to us. We build walls and establish policies,
construct entire bureaucracies and schedule segments on our talk shows concerning
what to do about the foreigner.
And yet in this story in Matthew’s Gospel, the message is
simply this: the foreigners have a gift
to give. They offer gold, frankincense and myrhh. But even more importantly, they share
important information about Herod’s intention to destroy Jesus. With these gifts of knowledge and priceless
goods, Joseph is able to escape with his family and keep them safe. The wise men, of course, also receive a gift –
simply seeing the Christ child, the one whom the star pointed to as the King.
How do you react
when you encounter the foreigner, the stranger who looks different from you,
practices a different religion from you, has a skin color different than yours,
comes from a place far from where you and your family live? Our first tendency is to pull back, recoil,
put a barrier between us and them. Use
derogatory names, tell crude jokes about them, pass laws against them. We want to protect ourselves from what we are
afraid of that we project onto them.
You’ll notice many stories in the Gospel of Matthew about
what it means to encounter the stranger, the one outside of your circle. Keep an eye and an ear out for these stories this
year as we read through his Gospel.
Because the people in Matthew’s circle were very worried about the wrong
people getting in and messing things up.
They were very concerned about keeping themselves safe, pure and
protected from outsiders, foreigners, immigrants, strangers. So here in this second chapter, he sets the
tone for what it means for humankind that this baby King has been born into the
world. Matthew shows us that even the
stars in the sky are leading us to practice a radical hospitality, to trust in
the God who created the planets and stars circling in their nightly eternal
dance, to open ourselves to someone new coming into our circle and bringing us
unexpected gifts.
I’ve seen that happen in this congregation. Ever since Garrett Baker led the series this past
summer on “Our Neighbor’s Faith,” people have been curious to learn more about
those who practice different religions than ours.
We’ve had a Muslim woman prison chaplain in
her hajib telling us about Islam, what we share in common, and what is different. We’ve had Jewish students and a Jewish
professor talk to us about their faith. We had a woman talk to us about
Unitarian Universalism. And in the
coming months we’ll be visited from people of the Sikh, Buddhist, and perhaps
even Hindu faith. They are different than us, outsiders, foreigners. And yet the light of Christ shining in this
place has drawn them here. Each of those
who have visited with us so far has told me how much they have appreciated their
visit – the questions, discussions, and
hospitality from those they met in the forums.
They may not worship the Christ as we do, but they can certainly see the
light of Christ through us, opening the way to new understanding, connections,
and perhaps even friendship.
And I know some of you have received the gifts of wisdom
that our neighbors of other faiths have offered. One of our members attended the session about
Judaism and gratitude and shared with me later how much the presenter’s words
had meant to her. She even wrote them
down, and they became like a beacon of light for her, a star guiding her through
a difficult road in her life.
From the heavens, from the point of view of those stars, our
differences would not be visible, any more than we can notice distinctions
between those planets at such a distance.
Our Earth is simply part of another constellation, a green and blue orb
swirled in vaporous clouds. And yet on
this planet, God created life and saw fit to enter that life in all its
messiness, all its beauty, all its danger, all its wonder. Who knows, maybe some other being light years
away is looking at us, making a wish upon our star.
The light that you radiate as a Christian should be one that
shines with peace and hospitality that simply glows. And as a parishioner shared with me in a
quote last evening, “Your life as a Christian should make non-believers
question their disbelief in God.” When people
encounter you at church, at the dinner table, in the waiting line, in the
office, in the car, on the Internet, anywhere on this planet, whether you are a
stranger traveling or a host welcoming: receive the gifts offered to you with
graciousness. And let the light of
Christ shine in you so that they may see your good works and glorify your
Father who is in Heaven. Amen.
Sources:
Levy, David H., “Star of Wonder,” Parade Magazine, December 23, 2001, pp. 8-9.
Berg, Elizabeth, The
Handmaid and the Carpenter, New York, NY, Ballentine Books, 2008
