Following a Star

Scripture Lessons: Isaiah 60: 1-6 and Matthew 2: 1-12 Sermon Title: Following A Star Preached on January 6, 2019 Today is January 6th, and in some ways, it feels to me like Christmas is a distant memory. We mostly put Christmas away a little more than a week ago. I feel like I heard somewhere that it’s bad luck if you don’t have all your Christmas decorations put away by January 1st, which pushes us to get it done. But I hope that’s not true, because while we did take down our tree and put most of our special Christmas things back in the attic to stay until we take them out again next year, there’s probably two or three things that are resisting our efforts. I wonder if it’s that way with you. You think it’s all up in the attic, but then you go to unload the dryer and there are all your Christmas napkins. Or you vacuum the carpet in the living room and come across a lost ornament. Bad smell emanates from the garage. “So that’s where I put the turkey to defrost.” I know that at our house there’s at least one Christmas ornament that refused to be put away. It’s the star that I hung way up in the tree in front of our house. Friday before last, on December 28th, I managed to get all our other Christmas lights down, but I couldn’t get that star out of the tree, so I decided I’d just keep it up there through Epiphany. Maybe that’s just an excuse, but I’m glad about it today. I’m glad it’s still up there, because really, on this Epiphany Sunday, we acknowledge that Christmas is just getting started. Even though the seasonal aisle at Kroger has completely changed its contents, Christmas is just getting started. You can tell that’s the case, because as we read in our Second Scripture Lesson, only just now are some of the most important guest arriving. Now who are these people showing up late for Christmas? Well, tradition tells us that their names are Balthasar of Arabia, Melchior of Persia, and Gaspar of India, but that’s not in the Bible. Somebody just made that up. In fact, the wise men are never even numbered in the Scripture Lesson that we just read from the Gospel of Matthew, only their gifts are. For that First Christmas, many years ago in Bethlehem, wise men sought out the baby Jesus and brought him gold, frankincense, and myrrh. These were strange and valuable gifts, fit for a king. Bible Scholars of the 21st Century debate about the meaning behind the gifts, where these wise men came from, how many of them there were, and, whether or not they were all even men, which I wonder about as well, considering how they stopped in Jerusalem to ask for directions. Our Gospel lesson reads: “In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.” Now that they stopped and asked for directions is interesting enough, but what’s more is that Scripture tells us, “When King Herod heard this, he was frightened.” Isn’t that an interesting reaction? Why would King Herod be frightened? Well, to understand this king’s reaction it’s important to remember that the spirit of Christmas inspires most of us to give. Christmas so often brings out our very best. You can see it in the small and large acts of kindness, the general sense of goodwill that pervades each day of December, but there are still, in our world today, those who resist it all. In the Christmas movie, “It’s a Wonderful Life,” there’s George Baily on the one hand, but Mr. Potter on the other. And just as George Baily is always giving, always enabling others to do more and have more, Mr. Potter is always holding close what he has with one hand while reaching for what he doesn’t have with the other. That miserly old man. The only thing colder than the winter weather in that small town of Bedford Falls is the state of Mr. Potter’s heart. It must have been the same with King Herod. King Herod – who hears that there is a child born king of the Jews and immediately thinks to himself, “But I’m king of the Jews! Who does this Christ child think he is?” When he hears the news that the wise men bring, unlike them he doesn’t think about giving presents or showing kindness, for he only ever thinks about what he stands to lose. Isn’t that a pitiful way to be? But because that’s King Herod, what happens next is tragic. King Herod asks about the place of this child’s birth, then “killed all the children in and around Bethlehem who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had learned from the wise men.” So threatened was he by the savior’s birth, knowing that it would require that he step back from power, Herod massacres the infants of Bethlehem. That’s nearly the opposite of what the wise men did. It’s good to think of them as kings as the hymn “We Three Kings” does, because some kings will hold on to power until it’s pried out of their cold dead hands, but these kings show us another way. Unlike Herod, they let go of what is precious, offering it at the feet of the Christ child in his meager manger. That kind of generosity, that kind of letting go, is what Christmas ought to inspire in us. That’s the appropriate response to what God has done, for at Christmas we remember how the God of creation gives us the greatest of all gifts, His Son Jesus Christ. Such a gift inspires most of us to give – to give of what we have – to give of ourselves – that’s the Christmas Spirit, but too many have packed up that Christmas Spirit into their attics allowing self-interest to define their behavior. Two options then. Two ways for us to be. The wise give, the Herods hord. The wise are filled with joy, the Herods are filled with fear. The wise encounter the Christ child and go home by another road – the Herods stay on the same road that they’re on and massacre anyone who’d get in their way. In this season of New Year’s Resolutions, what will we do. Who will we be? Will we live as though Christmas is just beginning, that there are still gifts that we might generously give, or will we put away our decorations and get back to life as normal, forgetting that his birth has changed everything. I heard a poem from Howard Thurman. Dr. Thurman is kind of the great theological mind of the Civil Rights Movement, and he wrote this poem about the days after Christmas: When the song of the angels is stilled, When the star in the sky is gone, When the kings and princes are home, When the shepherds are back with their flock, The work of Christmas begins: To find the lost. To heal the broken. To feed the hungry. To release the prisoner. To rebuild the nations. To bring peace among people. To make music in the heart. Imagine that – if Christmas were not put away but was only beginning. If there was no rush to find the Christ child so that power might be maintained by those who have it already, but there was only a rush to find him that his birth might be celebrated, and lives might be changed for the better. If the Mr. Potter’s of the world gave up on hording and saw that the only way for them to have what the George Bailys of the world have is to let go and be made new. If Christmas were not put away, but if it were lived. If we all made the same pledge that Ebenezer Scrooge made at the end of A Christmas Carol: “I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year!” So, having seen him, will you give up the road that you’ve been walking down to take another road? Will you follow where he leads, though going where he leads means going someplace new? Will you rest in the security of his powerful love, and receive the gift of peace that the true Messiah can provide? Let us live each day as Christmas, always following His star. Amen.