We Saw His Star in the East, And We Came to Worship Him

Isaiah 9:2-7; Matthew 2:1-12

          The idea of a Week of Prayer for Christian Unity was born in the heart of an Episcopal priest, Father Paul Wattson, in the early twentieth century.  With help from Mother Lurana Mary White, he formed a new religious community. The goal was to re-establish a Franciscan order in the Anglican tradition.  They called the new community the Society of the Atonement. Father Wattson pronounced the word atonement as At-One-Ment, reflecting his conviction that all Christians belong to one Church.  The Society of the Atonement eventually found a home in the Roman Catholic Church.  The ones who joined this community worked for the reconciliation of Christians and the unity of all Christian denominations.  In 1908, they proposed the first Octave of Christian Unity, now called the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity.  That work continues to this day, and I am honored to participate in it.

          Each year an international body of Christians is selected to develop the theme and prepare the worship materials.  This year the Middle East Council of Churches based in Beirut, Lebanon, accepted the task.  Most of the churches belong to the Orthodox tradition.  They chose this theme from Matthew 2:2: “We saw his star in the east, and we came to worship him.” Due to the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic, the group had to do its work virtually, much the way we have over the past two years.  They were determined, though, to select a theme that would lift and unify Christians around the world, saying, “More than ever, in these difficult times, we need a light that shines in darkness….”

          I couldn’t agree more, and I’m glad our church participates with Christian denominations around the globe in affirming that there is only one Church.  Just one.  That one Church has many names: Catholic, Orthodox, Anglican, Presbyterian, Church of God, Methodist, Baptist, and many others.  That one Church meets in many locations.  It has many beliefs and worship practices.  It speaks every language known to the earth.  But know this:  we’re all part of one Church, all of us following the same star that has risen in the east.

          A lot of myth surrounds the story of the Magi from Matthew 2, much of it from ancient art and the familiar Christmas carol, “We Three Kings of Orient Are.”  For example, nowhere does the text say there were three Magi.  It does say the Magi gave three gifts, but it may have taken a dozen Magi to afford such extravagant gifts.  And nowhere in the text are they identified as kings.  Tradition has given them names: Balthazar, Caspar, and Melchior.  None of this is in the text, so feel free to discount all of it.  Here’s what we do know about the ones who are called wise men or Magi.  They were Gentiles, a word that described anyone who was not Jewish.  That is an important part of this story.  They were Gentiles who likely belonged to a Persian priestly class of the religion Zoroastrianism, one of the world’s oldest religions.  As a part of their Gentile religion, these priests paid particular attention to the stars and gained a reputation for astrology, which at that time was regarded as a science.

          Here’s something else that’s important.  Matthew is the only gospel writer to record this story.  Any time that happens, I ask, “Why did he alone choose to preserve this story?”  John was the only one to record the story of the wedding in Cana of Galilee.  Why?  What did that story mean to John?  John used that story to say from the outset that Jesus came to bring new wine, new life, to the bone-dry party of life.  Only Matthew recorded this story about the Magi.  Why?  What was he trying to say?  Here are some things to consider.  While Matthew was not the first gospel written, it is placed first in the New Testament.  Scholars are agreed that Mark was written first.  Matthew is considered the most Jewish of the four gospels.  It is placed first because its strong Jewish flavor makes it a good bridge from the Old Testament to the New Testament.  But notice right here in the beginning, Matthew depicts Gentile seekers following their God-given light to find and worship Jesus.  That is an important clue.

          I couldn’t help but notice the cast of characters in this story.  Notice they are the same as at the Passion and resurrection of Jesus.  Herod is there.  The Chief Priests and scribes are there.  But Matthew makes a significant substitution.  He substitutes the Magi for the women at the tomb.  When the Magi found Jesus under the star in Bethlehem, Matthew says, “they were overwhelmed with joy” and “knelt down and paid him homage,” like the women at the empty tomb on Easter morning.

          You may remember Herod tried to trick the Magi.  “Go and find him,” Herod told them.  “Then come and tell me.  I want to worship him too.”  Though Herod had no intention of worshiping a rival king.

          Matthew says the Magi followed the star in the east until it came to rest over the place where Jesus and his family were.  The Magi entered the house and found Mary and Jesus.  Joseph is not mentioned.  They knelt down and worshiped Jesus and presented him gifts fit for a king: gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

          You may remember how this story ends.  The Magi were not fooled. They were warned about Herod’s murderous intentions in a dream, so they returned to their home by another route.  When Herod later learned that he had been duped, he flew into a murderous rage.  He ordered the deaths of all the male children in Bethlehem and the surrounding area two years old and younger.  Today we refer to it as the Slaughter of the Innocents.  Jesus and his parents fled to Egypt.  I have been to a church in Egypt built on a site where the Holy Family is believed to have sought refuge.

          So, why did Matthew alone record this story?  What was he trying to tell us?  I think it is this: something big, something with universal implications, was happening in the birth of Jesus, and it would be the cause of overwhelming joy.  This was not just the birth of another Jewish boy.  No, this boy would grow to be a man who would draw people from the east and from the west, from the north and from the south.  He would point people toward God and wholeness and community.  While Jesus’ birth was anticipated by the Jewish Torah, Matthew is telling us it wasn’t for the Jewish people only.  The prophets of Israel may have foretold the birth of the Messiah, but Matthew is letting us know at the beginning of his gospel that the birth of Jesus stretched beyond the people of Israel.  The Magi were Gentiles.  They were us.  They had no Torah.  They heard no message of the prophets.  They did not come from Israel.  They were Gentiles, without Torah and prophets, and they came from the east.  But they had this: a light, which God gave to guide them.  They had a star, which illumined their way to the truth.

          Matthew wanted us to know from the outset that something big had happened in Bethlehem of Ephrathah. It had universal implications.  While Jesus was the anticipated Jewish Messiah, his birth was the fulfillment of Gentile hopes as well.  Those who did not have a Bible or tradition to know what they were looking for were still on a quest for truth, wholeness, a meaningful life.  They had some light, like we all do.  They had to follow the light they were given, again like we all must.

          We saw his star in the east, and we came to worship him.  It’s a timely theme, isn’t it? As we enter our third year of the pandemic, we now all know someone who has died from COVID complications.  We all know people who have been seriously ill.  I have a loved one in intensive care today on a ventilator.  You may too.  I told someone recently, “I feel like the walls are closing in on me.”  Let’s not pretend it’s not dark.  It certainly is a dark season for the human family.  But in this dark time, I bring you a message of hope and joy.  We are a people who do not yield to darkness.  We are a people who have seen time and time again that light overcomes the darkness.  We are a people who cling to the hope that this dark season will pass, and we will once again rejoice with overwhelming joy. So, let us join our sisters and brothers in the Middle East.  Let us join with Christians around the world and bear witness to the light of God that will not be extinguished. 

Closing Prayer

          Instill hope deep within each of us, Lord.  Remind us the light that dispels darkness.  Help us to live in that light.  Amen.