Matthew 2: 1-12
Steve Lindsley
I have an old seminary friend who keeps a stash of birthday cards in her desk drawer – that way, when a friend’s birthday slips up on her, she doesn’t have to make a mad dash to the store. I personally like this idea – however, if I’m being honest, a more useful practice, given my tendency to not remember birthdays until they’ve come and gone, would be to keep a healthy stock of belated birthday cards. You’ve seen these, right? Amazes me there’s not more of a supply of them out there. There are some good ones – for instance:
There’s one with a tortoise on the front saying: “So I’m a little slow…” You open it up and it says: “What? Are you in some kind of hurry to get old?”
There’s another one with a puppy on front. You can’t go wrong with puppies on cards. The caption above reads: “I missed your birthday…” Inside: “Do I still get cake?”
There’s the one that says on the front, “Sorry I forgot your birthday, but I have this problem with short term memory loss….” Inside it reads: “Sorry I forgot your birthday, but I have this problem with short term memory loss….”
I kind of wonder if the Wise Men in our scripture today could’ve made good use of a belated birthday card themselves. That’s because, despite our tendency to lump them in with the shepherds and angels in our annual Christmas pageants, the Wise Men were weeks late to the party – in some traditions, even years late. I wonder how their belated birthday card would’ve read? Sorry about the delay, but there was this bright light in the sky….. Or, Yeah, we’re late, but we brought gold and frankincense and myrrh – so we’re good, right?
More on those gifts later. With Christmas new in our rearview mirror, the next church holiday up is Epiphany, in a little over a week. We don’t talk about Epiphany all that much, probably because it falls on a calendar date – January 6th – rather than a particular Sunday. It also happens to be right on the heels of all the Christmas hoopla, lost in its large seasonal shadow.
Nevertheless, it is the day we typically recognize the arrival of the Wise Men to Jesus. And there are a few things we should keep in mind about this. First, contrary to popular opinion and a hymn we’ll sing in a few minutes, there’s no hard evidence that these visitors from the East were actually “kings.” Nor is there any indication that there were just three of them – something we’ve probably deduced on our own from the three gifts.
And then there’s the role King Herod plays in all of this. He wasn’t actually a king either, although apparently he liked calling himself that. Herod was the Roman ruler of Judea at the time of Jesus’ birth and was known for being mighty protective of his power. So you can imagine how he reacted when these wise men from the East came asking about a “king of the Jews” who’d been born right under his nose. Herod asked the visitors to return to him after finding this new king; and when they don’t, he has every boy aged two and under put to death. An unspeakable horror for sure, and the reason Jesus and his parents wind up fleeing to Egypt.
And yet, there all along is the star – the star that shone in the night sky. That’s the truth in all of this, isn’t it? That the star is still there, as we talked about on Christmas Eve, shining its light and showing us the way through the darkness?
It’s not by coincidence that the word “epiphany” literally means “a moment of sudden revelation or insight.” That revelation, that light, came to these men from the East in the form of this bright star – a sign that something had happened; something had changed. That revelation was confirmed when they traveled to see the reason for the star – and in doing so became the first non-Jews to see Jesus and recognize him as the son of God. An epiphany.
So what, then, is our epiphany as we approach the new year and January 6th? What is our moment of revelation and insight? As we look ahead to a brand new year, a blank canvas upon which we write our individual stories and our collective story as the people of God, what new thing is God telling us, directing us toward, shining on us like a bright star in the night sky?
I wonder if, more than anything, our epiphany story lies within those very gifts the wise men brought baby Jesus. Gold – the earth’s most precious metal. Frankincense – an expensive oil used in religious rites. And myrrh – tree sap resin fashioned into a lavish ointment. Wonderful gifts – although, admittedly, a bit odd for a newborn baby. One wonders if Mary, with the grateful smile of a new parent, quietly thought to herself, Couldn’t they have checked the registry first??
There’s this cute little story about four kids who put on a Christmas pageant for their parents one December evening. Joseph was played by the oldest son, draped in his father’s bathrobe and mop-handle staff; Mary depicted by his younger sister looking solemn with a sheet-draped head; the angel of the Lord played by the next in line with pillowcase wings. That left the fourth child, the youngest of the bunch, to play the part of all three wise men, which he did with great pride, at one point proclaiming, I’m all three wise men, and I bring precious gifts of goals, circumstance and mud!
It made their parents laugh, as it did you! Goals, circumstance and mud. Although, come to think of it, those are some pretty sweet gifts, aren’t they?
Bringing our GOALS, our vision as a church, prayerfully and faithfully setting priorities and then working by the grace of God to fulfill them. More than simply doing what we’ve always done, because the church of today has to be more than just that. More than us achieving anything, because ultimately our purpose as the church of Jesus Christ is to further the mission of the One who has called us here in the first place.
Bringing our CIRCUMSTANCE to God: laying before God our lives, just as they are. Because the God of the Manger is not interested in our pretense. Baby Jesus does not view us simply through successes and triumphs, nor our faults and failures. He much prefers us just as we are, our various circumstances and roles in life. Husband, wife, daughter, son, employer, employee, neighbor, garden club member, church member – child of God.
Even bringing our MUD to God – that side of us that we’d rather God not see. Those parts we are not proud of; that we’re ashamed to admit are even there. As strange as it might sound, this “mud” of ours is a gift. Because when we give our “mud” to God, we are giving every piece of ourselves. We’re not holding back. We’re “being real” with God, in the same way God is real with us when he comes to us as a baby in a manger – not in a spiritual or symbolic way, but in a flesh-and-bone, rubber-meeting-the-road kind of way.
And that, my friends, is the lesson the wise men have for us in the second chapter of Matthew on this in-between Sunday. They brought their very best to the Lord that day. They didn’t short-change the baby Jesus with a second-tier gift; a token present like the fruit cake the boss plops on your desk every December. Nor did they assume one of the other two would “come through” with their gift so they wouldn’t have to be as extravagant with theirs. Each of those wise men gave their personal best to the son of God. They brought their very best to the Lord.
And you know something? You and I are called to do the exact same thing. In fact, that is our task as the people of God and as this church. That is our calling as we prepare to enter another year serving God on Providence. If 2025 is nothing else, it is a year in which God’s people, perhaps more than ever, will be challenged to commit to bringing their best to the Lord, each and every day.
And in so many ways I believe you are already doing this. For over eleven years as your pastor, I’ve seen you bring your best to the Lord in the faithful way you’ve addressed some of the challenges this church has faced, challenges that churches everywhere have faced. It’s the sign of a strong church when they face their challenges head-on instead of burying their heads in the sand and hoping they’ll just go away. Because ministry is never a stagnant thing. There will always be changes and challenges when God’s people are in the business of building God’s kingdom on earth. And yet, through these times of transition we are led to transformation; and transformation leads God’s people to discover what its purpose in the world really is.
I see you bringing your best to the Lord all the time. But friends, I want to invite you to bring your best to the Lord in a new way. One of my colleagues, the Rev. Andrew Foster Connors, has preached at the same church in Baltimore since he graduated from seminary a few years after I did. And in one of his sermons he posed this question to his church – and I’m paraphrasing here:
What if your church, your faith and practice, your witness was so essential to the essence of the community in which you live, that when you told people you went to that church, their response was, “I don’t know how our city would survive without your congregation? Let me say that again: what if your church was so essential to the essence of the community in which you live, that when you told people you went to that church, their response was, “I don’t know how our city would survive without your congregation?
What do you think it takes to be that kind of indispensable church? Does it take a whole bunch of members? Does it take a budget with huge annual surpluses? Does it take the very best preacher, the very best staff from top to bottom, to make it happen?
We tend to think that’s the case. But I’m not sure that’s it at all. If anything, I think those are symptoms of what can happen when we, every single one of us, regularly make a habit of bringing our best to the Lord. Not just showing up to church but showing up to be church. Be a church that dares to ask: what “witness” would this city miss without us? What transformative outreach and mission initiatives would go untapped? What new music and worship efforts would never materialize? What children, youth, and young families would go unserved? What new things, things we haven’t even thought up yet, would simply never happen?
I realize my time as one of your pastors is coming to a close in a few weeks. So I have a request, Trinity Presbyterian Church. A request I hope you’ll carry with you long after I’m gone and someone else is standing here before you. And it is this: that you, the people of this church, routinely encounter the joy that comes with making a habit of bringing your very best to the Lord. So that the mark this church leaves on our community and world is uniquely Trinity, and that those outside these walls come to see the manifestation of God’s spirit uniquely experienced here, because you make a point of showing it to them over and over and over again.
Do you think you can do that? Because I know you can.
Guide us, God, to always bring our best to you, and to be filled with the light of your love, on this Epiphany Sunday, and forever.
In the name of the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer, thanks be to God – and may all of God’s people say, AMEN!
* Because sermons are meant to be preached and are therefore prepared with the emphasis on verbal presentation, the written accounts occasionally stray from proper grammar and punctuation.