Readings: Isaiah 60: 1-6; Psalm 72: 1-7, 10-14; Ephesians 3: 1-12; Matthew 2: 1-12
The Australian theologian and biblical commentator Brendan Byrne in his commentary on the Epiphany Gospel from St. Matthew writes “precisely because of its appeal the journey of the magi has become in Christian tradition a central part of the Christmas story, attracting in the process all kinds of accretions….”[1]
Perhaps as an example of what Brendan Byrne calls “accretions”, the Vatican Library has for more than 250 years held a document called “The Revelation of the Magi”. It is supposedly a first-hand account of the journey of the Magi to pay tribute to the infant Jesus. It was written in ancient Syriac – the language spoken by early Christians from Syria - and it’s first translation into English was made about ten or twelve years ago – a Professor of Religious Studies from the University of Oklahoma took two years to complete the translation. The document is an eighth century copy of a story first written down around 100 years or so after St. Matthew’s Gospel was written. St. Matthew’s has the only biblical account we have of the story of the Wise Men and “The Revelation of the Magi” differs in many respects from Matthew’s brief account. The three wise men have traditionally been associated with Persian mystics, but those in the “Revelation of the Magi” are from much further afield – from a semi mythical land of Shir, now associated with ancient China. (Maybe The Rev’d John Henry Hopkins Jr. knew something when in 1857 he wrote the carol “We Three Kings of Orient Are”!) In the document, the wise men are said to be descendants of Seth, the third son of Abraham and to have belonged to a sect that believed in silent prayer. In a departure from the traditional story, it says there were “scores” of Magi. Matthew of course doesn’t give us any number – the assumption has been that there were three wise men because there were three gifts. The document also conflates Jesus Christ and the Star of Bethlehem, claiming they are different manifestations of the same thing. It says the star guides the Magi to Bethlehem and into a cave where it transforms into a human infant who tells them to go back and be preachers of the Gospel.
Now, I don’t know if you find any of that convincing or not. I don’t really – certainly not about Jesus and the star being the same thing. But the interesting thing is as the translator has commented that “Somebody was really fascinated by the wise men to have created this big, long story and tell it from their perspective. A great deal of thought and imagination has gone into it…….” However, Brendan Byrne in his commentary goes on to write that the accretions “are not really part of Matthrew’s account, which is certainly rich enough to stand by itself.”[2]
So, what might the Epiphany mean as we’ve come to the beginning of a New Year. Setting the fascination aside for a moment – I mean it’s always been there. Put “Star of Bethlehem” into your favourite search engine and you get an impossible number of results for it. But as we come to the beginning of any New Year we look back and look forward. The Epiphany story looks back back and forward – back to Isaiah’s prophecy of the restored Jerusalem of the new and glorious age of the Messiah for whom people waited. Gold and frankincense will proclaim the praise of the Lord, Isaiah says[3] – as gold and frankincense proclaim that the infant in the manger is the Lord. The myrrh used for anointing the dead looks forward to the passion and death of Christ. The same prophecy of Isaiah takes up the theme of light rising to disperse the darkness that covers the earth.[4] Epiphany has always been associated with bringing light into darkness.
And the theme of light – light for the journey is, I think, especially relevant for us this morning as we have just begun a New Year. Most of us look back to the year past – we celebrate things that have gone well, regret things that haven’t, perhaps relive the pain of loss; but we look forward too. We might make new year’s resolutions, or at least think about them, and we all express the hope that the new year will be better than the one just past. But the reality often is that as we go through a new year, we find ourselves doing many things we did in the old year. We might follow pretty much the same pattern of things as we’ve followed in the past. We will probably think many of the same thoughts we thought before. We will probably face many of the same challenges we have faced before at personal, local, national and international levels. And yet, by God’s grace things can be different, things can be new. There are certain moments when God, who loves us, shows himself, manifests or reveals himself, to use Epiphany language. God steps into our time and into our lives. The light does shine in the darkness. Epiphany demonstrates this. We sometimes forget about the verses that follow this morning’s Gospel account – the flight of the Holy Family into Egypt to escape the violence Herod’s intentions[5] – as a news story on Friday evening of the flight of Sudanese women and children into the neighbouring country of Chad to escape the violence of conflict reminded me. Then follows the appalling story in Matthew’s Gospel of the massacre of the infants and of Rachel weeping in Ramah for her children and refusing to be consoled because they are no more.[6] We see that from Gaza almost every evening in news bulletin. Yet somehow, the light can shine. I remember seeing a few months ago some vision from Gaza of children playing amid the ruins on a see-saw they had made from the debris. We should always be looking for the light, seeking to bring light into dark places.
Secondly, we can take four actions from the Epiphany which are relevant as much today as they were then. They are to seek, to find, to worship and to rejoice. The wise men are faithful enquirers using all the means at their disposal to follow the guiding of a star seeking this new king. But their own endeavours can only get them so far. Once in Jerusalem they pay attention to the revelation of scripture and are diligent in following where the star is leading them, even when that goes against their expectations, and they are led beyond Jerusalem to Bethlehem. Surely there is a message there for us - being faithful in our following, in our seeking after the light and goodness of Christ; being open to looking beyond the boundaries of our lives and experiences and expectations of ourselves, of others and of God.[7] When the wise men reach their destination and find the place where Jesus is their first response is to fall to their knees and to worship him. They allow the truth of what they see to transform and delight them. The most important thing we do as Anglicans is worship – can we be open to the truth and grace of Christ experienced in worship transforming and delighting us. And they rejoice – despite all that lies in front of them – their long, arduous return by another was so they can avoid Herod, they rejoice. St. Paul reminds us to rejoice “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”[8]
So, as we begin the New Year, we begin with faith. We begin with faith that God does not leave us to our own devices, but that God shows himself to us, makes time for us, takes time for us. God doesn’t leave it all up to us, thank goodness. It isn’t our primary task by resolutions and all the rest of it to make the New Year better. Sure, there is a place for our own honest reflection and soul searching to identify aspects of our lives we would like to be better – but God comes to us, reveals himself to us, brings light into darkness. Perhaps underlying theme in this new year for ourselves and for our parish could be summed in in the line with which Malcolm Guite ends his Epiphany sonnet, “The Magi”
It might have been just someone else’s story;
Some chosen people get a special king,
We leave them to their own peculiar glory,
We don’t belong, it doesn’t mean a thing.
But when these three arrive they bring us with them,
Gentiles like us, their wisdom might be ours;
A steady step that finds an inner rhythm,
A pilgrim’s eye that sees beyond the stars.
They did not know his name but still they sought him,
They came from otherwhere but still they found;
In palaces, found those who sold and bought him,
But in the filthy stable, hallowed ground.
Their courage gives our questing hearts a voice
To seek, to find, to worship, to rejoice.[9]
[1] Brendan Byrne Lifting the Burden – Reading Matthew’s Gospel in the Church Today Liturgical Press Collegeville Minnesota 2004 p28
[2] Bendan Byrne ibid
[3] Isaiah 60:6
[4] Isaiah 60:1-3
[5] Matthew 2:13-15
[6] Matthew 2:18
[7] https://www.stmartin-in-the-fields.org/epiphany-sunday-4/ - a Sermon by The Rev’d. Katherine Hedderley
[8] 1 Thessalonians 5:16
[9] Malcolm Guite Sounding the Seasons – Seventy Sonnets for the Christian Year Canterbury Press Norwich UK 2012 p19
© Rev’d Bill Crossman