"Prophets of Hope: The Magi"

Matthew 2:1-12

Isaiah 60:1-6

A Sermon Preached by The Rev. Douglas M. Donley

January 5, 2003

University Baptist Church

Minneapolis, MN

 

 

It’s Epiphany Sunday.  It’s the time when we say our final goodbyes to Christmas and make the transition to business as usual.  It’s also the New Year and with that comes all those pesky resolutions, those fitness club memberships, those commitments to do something better this year.   It’s appropriate to make these decisions at the time of Epiphany.

When we say we have had an epiphany, it means we have had a time of clarity, a moment of realization, a moment of self-awareness.  The scales have fallen off of our eyes, and we see clearly perhaps for the first time in our lives.  In the movie, The Matrix, Morpheus (a pseudo John-the-Baptist character) tells Neo (an allegorical Jesus) the truth about the 23^rd century world in which they live.  The truth, he says, is that Neo and the rest of humanity are slaves.  They are controlled by an empire so seductive and albeit invisible that almost no one sees it.  The secret, says Morpheus, is that all of humanity are slaves to this empire called the Matrix.  What Morpheus does to Neo is free his mind.  He turns on a light.  He is the means for Neo’s epiphany. The rest of the film tells the tale of a band of people who know the truth and who struggle to set humanity free.  But it can only happen if there is an epiphany.  Isaiah says, “Arise, shine, your light has come.”  That means we are to arise with new clarity, new power and new direction.  That’s what we need as this New Year is upon us.

            Today’s prophets of hope are prophets who did not say a whole lot, at least not a whole lot that was recorded in scripture.  We don’t even know their names, or how many there were.  We don’t know if they were men, but we have always assumed they were.  Their hopeful presence manifests itself not in what they said, but what they did.  They were internationals who shunned local dignitary on his own turf.  As they were spiritually obedient to what they saw, they were disobedient to Herod, the Pharoah of this Exodus story.  Their obedience to freedom and the way they liberate one family from the slavery of a merciless ruler is what makes the Magi prophets of hope.  They must have had an Epiphany.  And I don’t know about you, but I would sure like one too.

            Let’s remember the story. 

After Jesus was born, at the time of King Herod, magi, astrologers from the east came to worship the child who was born king of the Jews.  The wise men knew this, somehow because they saw a star.  That’s a lot of information for just one star: “a child who is to be born the king of the Jews.”  They knew this because of just one star.  It almost makes me want to pay attention to my horoscope.  It kind of reminds of the detailed information that Lassie could impart to Jeff:  Woof.   “You mean we need to get help because a building’s on fire and people are trapped?”  Woof.   “You say we need to call the fire department?”  Woof, woof.

 

In the Hebrew Bible, what we often call the Old Testament, God’s presence comes along with lightening, earthquakes, thunder, and the obscurity of night.  At times, God is seen as a divine warrior who will shape the destiny of the nations because of God’s wrathful anger.  But today’s scripture from third Isaiah strips away all of the war-like symbols and images of God.  All that remains is light.  Pure, holy, grace-filled, healing, loving light which symbolizes hope and salvation.  “Arise, shine, for your light has come and the glory of God has risen upon you” says Isaiah in chapter 60.   It hearkens back to the exodus where God leads the people as a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night.  Once again the people will be freed.  The reflection of the light of God in them will cause other nations to be attracted to them. 

When Matthew told the story about the Magi, he told it through the lens of Isaiah 60.  In both cases, a new day had dawned for the people.  And like a light shining in the east, the Magi knew what it meant.

            Now, unless the Magi had extremely fast camels, this probably took place weeks or even years after Jesus’ birth.  We can assume that news had spread about Jesus to other countries, including Persia, the likely home of the Magi.  Maybe Mary’s song about the rulers being brought down from their thrones was not simply a private prayer but a public cry that things were going to change.  An international coalition was building to herald the coming of this Messiah.  Intellectuals and mystics were helping out the cause by bringing unsolicited albeit impractical gifts to the new royal order. 

            This made Herod nervous.  And he did what too many leaders do when they are being threatened.  First, he sought advice, then he tried to trick people, co-opt them and when all of this backfired, he resorted to slaughter.

            The Magi lived up to their names as wise men.  They saw through Herod’s farce of feigned praise, “Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have find him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.”  Perhaps they knew of Herod’s reputation as a terrorist.  He did, after all kill three of his own sons when he suspected them of unseating him. 

            In great bravery, they chose not to tell Herod where the baby was.  Instead they went home a different way.  It doesn’t even say that they fled. They just chose not to do what Herod wanted.   It was as if Herod had no real control over them.  They were not impressed with Herod’s dominion, for it paled in comparison to the power of God.  Their holy trickery gave Joseph and Mary enough time to take Jesus off to Egypt where he could grow up in relative safety.

            All of this happened because of the action of the Magi.  They realized that real power came from God, embodied in this child.  They realized what might happen if they let Herod have his way.  This Jesus might either have been killed, or worse, become a pawn in Herod’s larger plan to dominate the world. 

            The Magi gave hope because they were willing to stand up to people in supposed power.  They were able to say no to the temptation of favors possibly lavished onto them or their countries because of their aiding and abetting Herod’s plans.

            They had an epiphany somewhere between their country and the house of Jesus.  Their light went on, and they saw what their life was all about.  Their minds were set free. 

At Epiphany, this season where we think of the light breaking forth, may we have that same kind of clarity that gives us the guts to do what we know we need to do.

            The point of this story seems to be that we ought not to wait for the rulers of our state, of our nation, of our world to see the light and do the right thing.  They may in fact see the light and choose not to follow it. 

We have that choice, too. 

But think of the consequences for our world, for our souls.  Like the Magi of old, if we see the light, we ought to do the right thing, even if it means defying the powers and principalities. 

About seven years ago, when I was serving as Pastor of Dolores Street Baptist Church in San Francisco, the government closed down the San Francisco Cannabis Club.   People with glaucoma, cancer and HIV could not get their desperately-needed medicine.  Dolores Street was approached by Healing Alternatives Foundation and asked if the church would be willing to serve as a distribution site for medicinal marijuana, knowing that it would be against the law.  We studied the scriptures, including the story of the Magi’s relationship to civil authority.  We looked at Jesus’ Sabbath healings.  I spoke with every single member of the church before we voted on it.  My favorite was a ninety-something-year-old woman who matter-of-factly said, “Is this going to help people?”  I said, “yes.”  “Is the church supposed to help people?”  “yes”.  “Well then of course we should do it.”  The church had an epiphany and this holy action galvanized the congregation in a profound way.  At one point a member said, “if they come take away the medicine, then we will chain ourselves to the doors so that we can keep bringing healing to people in need.”  The church served as a distribution site without incident for about three months.  One person said to me, “thank you so much.  Your church saved my life.  I lost fifteen pounds in ten days when the Cannibus Club closed.  Now I can eat again without getting sick.” 

All of this happened because that little church had an epiphany.   That’s the kind of light Jesus brings to the world.  That’s the kind of light that makes a difference.  And that kind of light is not only reserved for wise people from the east.  It’s available to all of us.  It is all around us.  It is more powerful than the matrix.  It’s more powerful than the illusion that seems to run our world.  It is the light of God shining in our lives and reflecting itself and filling all the gaps in our world.  It is the power from God which can and will change each of us. 

And as we are changed, we might have the strength of the Magi to act in response to the light and save a portion of our world.  And in the process, we will experience the only kind of salvation that really makes a difference.

May we, in the coming year, have the guts of the Magi—defying all that is wrong with the world and acting in hope for all that is right for God’s priorities.  And through it all, may we embrace the light of the world which will point us the way and guide us to the place of freedom and hope.

AMEN.