Episcopal Church of the Messiah

Worship Service Sermons

January 3, 2010

The three kings are on a journey.

The journey began a long time ago, and far away.

Although we’ve lived the Christmas Season, savoring the – well, almost12 days since that birth at the manger, our culture gives us crèches which compact shepherds and angels, and magi and Bethlehem star, into the same scene, as though Jesus’ birth is greeted simultaneously in one magical night, by all the players, who can then be neatly packed up and put away until next year.

In our culture we can relate to the immediacy of Luke’s gospel account of Jesus birth – the shepherds went with haste to Bethlehem to see that of which the angels had told them. It does sound like it happened all at once, that same night – and by dawn would have been on twitter and youtube!

Dramatic moment!

Instant communication!

Matthew, whom we read today, tells another story, following the long journey of the kings, more than a little lost and confused, which eventually leads, if not to the same manger, then to the same newborn king, the baby Jesus.

These Magi begin with an expectation: an important king has been born! We must go to greet him.

It’s the politically expedient thing to do.

And they go where one would expect – to a palace – and talk to a king – Herod.

"Tell us about this new king that has been born…"

No king there.

Inquiries all around.

Some snippets of information, and off they go again, this time both a bit more certain of where they are going – Bethlehem – and a bit more uncertain of what they will find – after all, there are no palaces in Bethlehem!

I can imagine their conversations among themselves as they remount their camels and ride again into the darkness:

And so they journey on toward Bethlehem, and perhaps it is that journey which allows them to shed their expectations, to be a bit more open to the possibility that what they have been expecting might in fact wind up being an experience of something (or someone!) entirely different. When they find their baby-king, the Christ Child, that first born son of poor Jewish peasants, sheltered in a stable, attended by animals, it is evident they recognize him as the object of their quest, for they give him both their gifts and their obeisance.

I think that we are all of us more Wise Men than Shepherds – although I would venture to say that most of us would rather be shepherds than wise men, preferring the destination, the arrival, to the process of getting there!

We’re on a journey; there isn’t any "instant gratification." We’re seeking – sometimes without knowing for what.

And we’re like kids in the back seat of the car, badgering their parents every five minutes, "Are we there yet? How much longer?"

When will it be Christmas?

When will I know?

How long do I have to wait?

And, perhaps, losing interest it if doesn’t happen right away, soon, now!

I’m not sure that many of us today have patience for the journey. We seem to lead our lives with a remote control in one hand, quickly growing impatient with this thing or that. We multi-task. We don’t easily tolerate the unknown; we’re impatient with mystery, with things we don’t understand or can’t control. We are busy. We get through things, checking them off on a list while allowing life to happen around us.

Sometimes we get lost. We get distracted. We forget to look at the star. We ask for directions – perhaps from the "wrong person" – as in, Herod…

And yet, there is something formative about the journey.

The amazing thing about journeys is that who we are when we start is no longer who we are when we arrive.

Witness our Magi: Certainly something powerfully transformational has happened to these three Wise Men, royal kings, wealthy travelers, that they can see the glory of God in a manger, and fall down and worship him.

What would have happened, I wonder, if they had been blinded by their expectations?

If they had abandoned their quest after Jerusalem – too tired; probably mistaken; no palace in Bethlehem.

Newborn king? Couldn’t be!

What would have happened if they had continued on to Bethlehem, hoping, but still expecting to find – well, royal birth, a child born to wealth and power, a child easily recognizable as a king?

No gifts or obeisance at the stable…

Newborn king? Couldn’t be!

How frequently we are blinded by our expectations!

Let’s let the journey help us release them, and prepare us to be surprised by mystery!

A little girl once asked her mother, "I know that God is Everywhere, but is God Somewhere?"

Is God ‘Somewhere’?"

There’s the mystery! Do we have an expectation of the answer?

This Epiphany, like the Magi, if we are open to the journey, we do find God Somewhere – in the manger in the stable in Bethlehem.

And, like the magi, we each one of us offer our gifts. But, as we give the gifts, the gold, frankincense, and myrrh of our Selves, limited, imperfect, uniquely ours, to the Christ Child, so also he gives himself to us.

Imagine that gift exchange:

I give you – me, all that I am, imperfect, broken, but open, seeking, willing…

And you give me – oh, my! You give me your holy, sacred, divine Self!

Oh, my!

Imagine!

And as we leave that encounter, that original "gift exchange" of that first Epiphany, each of us carries that ‘Somewhere’ of God within our own being.

What an awesome responsibility – to carry the ‘Somewhere’ of God, to bear Christ within!

Today we are promised a journey into the unknown.

A journey where expectation and experience may be very different.

A journey to greet the Christ child where we least expect to find him.

Can we step out in faith, setting aside our expectations, our checklists and calendars and maps, and give ourselves over to the journey?

Come! We have seen the star at its rising!

Let us make the journey.

And may we, like the Magi – and the shepherds before them – recognize the Christ Child when we meet him: at the manger, at the Eucharistic table or the dinner table, on the street corner, over the back fence, in the pew next to us, and let us both offer our Selves – and open ourselves, to receive the gift of the Christ in our midst, that we may take him with us, sharing him, as we continue on our own journeys.

Amen.