Homage

Matthew 2:1-12

In case you are wondering, I am a Pisces. That means I am introverted, dreamy, artistic, sensitive, and fishy. Just a quick survey: how many of you know your astrological sign? And how many of you ever glance, even just casually, at your horoscope in the paper?

Here’s what the prophet Isaiah has to say about the practice of astrology:

“let those who study the heavens stand up and save you those who gaze at the stars, and at each new moon predict what shall befall you. See, they are like stubble, the fire consumes them; they cannot deliver themselves from the power of flame. No coal for warming oneself is this, no fire to sit before! Such to you are those with whom you have labored, who have trafficked with you from your youth; they all wander about their own paths: there is no one to save you” (Isaiah 47). So beware: Astrology is a path that leads to nowhere.

In Matthew’s tale of the Magi, he writes that they have seen a star rising and have come to pay homage to the child who has been born King of the Jews. Because they observe and follow the stars, the magi are astrologers. Biblical translators have not always been comfortable with this, and so the NRSV and the King James call them “wise men” and the hymn we just sang refers to them as “kings.”

Matthew tells us very little about these cameo characters. They could have been Persian priests or Arab kings. They could have been named Melchior, Gaspar, and Balthasar as according to tradition. But whoever and whatever they were, Matthew tells us that they practices astronomy, and were most likely magicians or sorcerers, who found the star of Jesus and followed it until they found him. They were certainly not Jews, but they knew a king when they found him, and they knelt before him, and gave his family expensive gifts. And because of them, we kneel when we pray and we give each other gifts at Christmas.

Of course, the church has not always been so kind to those who conduct alternative spiritual practices. Recently, some folks have been quite upset about the Harry Potter books and Christian children reading and learning about witchcraft. And here, we have a group of star-gazing wizards, worshiping Christ in the Bible. Matthew offers no judgment or commentary, does not explore this interesting relationship between pagan magicians and a Jewish king, just leaves it there, perhaps to show us just how universal Christ is, that even these men recognize the truth of Jesus. In fact, the magi are better informed about the nature of this young child than are the chief priests and scribes who Herod consults.

This story makes it possible for us to consider the validity of different faith practices. Instead of condemning astrology, proving that it is false, or showing that Jesus is better, Matthew lets us know that it actually is quite effective and accurate. The magi find a message in the stars, they follow it through, and they find Jesus. It might not be a conventional route to the Messiah, but it’s a successful one nonetheless. Which leaves us with the prospect that God can be found by alternate faith routes.

The scandalous part is that Matthew doesn’t mention anything about their faith after meeting Jesus. He doesn’t say that they stop practicing magic. Obviously, the astrology they used worked, because it led them to Jesus. What could it mean if they met Jesus and yet didn’t change or convert? We don’t know if they ever found out what happened to Jesus as an adult. There’s a legend that the apostle Thomas baptized them on his way to India.

They might have been like Gandhi, who loved Jesus and his teachings, particularly the sermon on the mount, but was not interested in associating with Christianity. He once said: "I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. They are so unlike your Christ." And so Gandhi believed in Jesus, followed his teachings, and yet remained Hindu. Perhaps this was also the case of the magi, who found a Jewish king, were in awe of him, but remained astrologers—perhaps it’s possible that they were both pagan magicians and Christians, just Christian in the sense that they worship Christ, but are not part of the religion of Christianity, especially since that wouldn’t exist for a few more decades.

But whatever happened to them afterwards, we know that the wise men went looking for Jesus—and they already knew they were looking for a humble child who would become this king. They were seekers--those who are looking for something, but aren’t sure what, are maybe looking for God, or for meaning in their lives, or for answers, or for community, or just for something bigger and more secure than themselves.

In church evangelism lingo, we contrast “seekers” with “believers” as if when someone finds their beliefs, they stop seeking altogether. Hopefully we’re all seekers, whether we’ve been here forever, or just walked through the doors for the first time, whether we’ve always believed in Jesus, or we’re still not sure what it is we’re looking for or what we believe in.

The gospel reminds us that Jesus comes for everyone, Jews, gentiles, and foreign magicians—everyone can recognize Jesus as the Messiah and pay him homage.

The magi are a small group of outsiders, showing us the proper way to worship Christ: kneeling and offering gifts, showing us that sometimes it’s the seekers who are better able to kneel at the manger than those who have done so their entire lives. As Stephen Bauman writes: “Not every committed Christian in name has a taste for actually kneeling in the dust and muck of a barn in a backwater town with astonished recognition that this is where God prefers to make an entrance.”

We all need regular reminders that no one is above another, that no one has an exclusive claim to truth, and that there are many and varied paths to find it. Epiphany gives us a chance to reflect on holy humility:

What if the magi walked into a church, and were told to leave because of their practices—and yet they were among the first to ever worship Jesus?

What if Gandhi were kicked out for being Hindu, even though he understood the message of Jesus so thoroughly?

The Magi, might not be Christians, they might follow stars, but they were wise enough not to worship the star of Bethlehem itself, but the source that gave it light.

Light has come to the world--the scandalous light of Jesus, that still surprises this cold, dark world. Amen.