Gentile Epiphany

Sermon by Rev. Mary Alice Mulligan, Ph.D.

Scripture - Isaiah 60:1-6, Matthew 2:1-12

All over Sarasota, inflatable yard Snowmen and their friends, were festively floodlit, weeks before Christmas. However, when the clock struck midnight on December 25, people began to pack them back into boxes, to return to the attic. The ones still in the yards have been deflated and lying on the ground since December 26th. 

But for centuries Jewish people waited for the coming of the Messiah, a king from David’s house, who would save the people of Israel. Centuries of waiting, so no one was going to celebrate for a single night, then tuck away everything and forget the Messiah, hurrying to get back to normal. Certainly, we who have the advantage of historical perspective should realize the birth of Jesus deserves more than a momentary “yippee.” The church should at least celebrate Christmas for 12 days. The 12 days of Christmas take us to January 6th, which is the traditional celebration of the coming of the Magi, scholars from afar, to see the one born King of the Jews. Hebrew scripture prophesied his coming; all Israel waited. But it’s the Magi who find him. Some of us may have read today’s sermon title as Gentle Epiphany, but the word is Gentile, meaning non-Jews. Magi are unclean foreigners. They don’t know LORD Yahweh; don’t follow the 10 Commandments or treasure the Promise Land. Jews awaited the Messiah; he was coming to save Israel. No one else mattered. But then in tromp these foreigners, looking to honor the King of the Jews. Which means, from his infancy, Jesus was upsetting what people knew to be true. His birth meant the Messiah has come. Even for Gentiles. We call this visit of Gentiles: “Epiphany,” which means an appearance of the divine. The Wise Men see God. They have an Epiphany. And we get to hear about it. Turn now and read Matthew 2: 1-12. 

Imagine a painting of the splendid palace of the ruler Herod. In the midst of opulence, he is surrounded by the best scholars and the most famous religious figures. His grounds are immense; the walls secure; and all of Jerusalem seems attuned to what goes on in Herod’s circle. But in an obscure corner of this painting, separated from Jerusalem by miles of evening shadows, you glimpse the humble scene. Foreign travelers stumbling over themselves in fatigue and awe, bathed in holy light, falling down, in worship. They have come into the presence of the Incarnation of God. It’s quite a contrast. Those odd travelers encountering the holy family seem insignificant compared to the immovable power of Herod.

We recognize inflexibility. Haven’t we all seen refusals to change? Intransigence is another way to say it. In the dictionary, next to the definition of intransigence, “Unwilling to moderate one’s position,” is a picture of Herod, sitting in his power-chair, ordering folks around. He doesn’t need to go to Bethlehem; just send the foreigners to sniff out the situation. No reason for Herod to move. 

But of course, Herod’s wouldn’t be the only photo of intransigence. There are self-assured, power-types today. Sometimes even in church, people are unwilling to consider another position seriously. Whatever the issue, they already have the solution, so if people will only listen to them, they will agree their opinion is best. When these folks sing, “We Shall Not, We Shall Not Be Moved,” they aren’t kidding. New ideas aren’t necessary because they already know everything. 

But we can get pretty smug, too, sometimes, confident we have the inside track on what’s best. For many of us, when an issue is raised, we are certain we know what’s best for the church. So we understand Herod’s shock when strangers come asking about another king. Of course Herod trembles and all Jerusalem with him. But then Herod’s self-assurance moves back into control, and just like many of us, the immovable confidence is once again locked in place. We recognize the pattern from the old joke: “I thought I was wrong once, but I was mistaken.” Self-confidence returns in all its solid certainty. We are familiar with intransigence.

But it’s those who are willing to move who experience God. Travelers find God. They search, open to welcoming any new truth; and so they discover the divine. These foreigners are not afraid of change. Consider their trip to foreign Judea, traveling with no superhighways or Holiday Inns. They have no internet reservation center to book rooms at appropriate distances along the way; no AAA to call when the pack animals go lame. The trip is arduous; yet they travel on, along uncertain paths. Then when they finally arrive at the power center, Jerusalem, they find they have not actually arrived. The star apparently continues to move, taking the foreigners on to insignificant Bethlehem. 

What would motivate these mysterious visitors to pack their duffle bags and set off to distant lands where everything would be foreign to them? [ ] Along the way, they knew people would speak different languages, follow different customs, even practice a strange religion. They may have been astrological scholars or religious leaders in their own land, but they were vulnerable aliens in Judea. Why would they be willing to travel such a distance? Scripture gives the reason. They studied heavenly signs; believing something magnificent was happening, and they were determined to be part of it. So they set out on an unknown highway, seeking the cosmic child, born king of the Jews. 

It’s an important lesson. Only when they were willing to leave everything familiar behind (everything comfortable, everything they knew for certain), were they ready to encounter God. Travelers, willing to embrace uncertainty, are the ones with the flexibility to change. They open their lives to a blessed new experience, finding they have moved into the presence of God. So, we need to get ready to move, St Andrew. If we want to find God anew, we will need to move. Now some folks are quite content to stay right where they are. Their understanding of Jesus hasn’t altered since Confirmation class, and they like it. Their motto is: “Don’t rock my boat.” 

But St Andrew isn’t like that. In fact, because St. Andrew is open to moving to new understandings of the faith, we are livestreaming worship right now. We are Open and Affirming, and a Just Peace church, and we have two women ministers. We built this building, and before that, we built Stewart Hall, so we aren’t still meeting in the Gulf Gate storefront. Bold, gutsy, St Andrew has been willing to keep moving, because we know staying the same will not uncover the presence of God anew. 

So, let’s keep our walking shoes on, because we don’t know where God might be calling us next. But let’s be ready. In fact, let’s commit to praying each day for God to keep us flexible, ready to see our next steps. Every congregation needs something like a star to guide where they will join God next. But of course, if God sets a star before us, we need to be ready, to move.

Because Christ is born. The Savior has come. It wasn’t an earth-shattering birth. Jesus was just born in a backwater town, to an insignificant peasant family. Birth announcements only went to some outcaste shepherds and a few Gentile foreigners. Otherwise, no one noticed. Herod’s forces still ran the surrounding society. And those same forces have continued running things for the ensuing millennia. The rich and powerful still ensure things go well for the rich and powerful who care nothing for peasants, as long as they continue to raise crops, wait tables, and haul away the garbage, without disturbing the lifestyle of the rich and powerful.

But in the quiet, undramatic birth of Jesus, God has come among humanity. Leviticus 26: 12 says: “And I will walk among you, and will be your God and you shall be my people.” When the magi arrive, Jesus is probably about two, so he is toddling, fulfilling the promise. God is walking among us. From the start, Jesus’ presence challenges the rules, like letting Gentiles in, where only Jews are supposed to be. In almost imperceptible ways, Jesus begins an expansion of God’s vision for the world. According to God, the very least are every bit as valuable as Caesar. So, no person should be unhoused tonight or hopeless or lonely. People should live, mutually supporting each other, without anyone’s killing anyone else. Everyone should have enough to eat. After all, there is enough food in the world. Those tiny sparks of God’s vision were shining divine light at the birth of Jesus, which actually can show us how the universe is supposed to be. We who choose to follow Jesus rather than Herod, are invited to acknowledge the birth by living into God’s vision. God has come in the flesh. Once again, Christ is born.

So, we who are able to step into the unknown; we who are able to admit we don’t know all there is to know of God; we who are willing to seek God anew; can find ourselves amazingly present in the glorious toddling company of Jesus Christ, who has come among us to spread the compassionate love of God to all the earth.