Sermon: 7 January 2024
Readings: Isaiah 60.1-6
Ephesians 3.1-12
Matthew 2.1-12
Theme: Epiphany
Gifts, gifts, and more gifts! Today we celebrate the Epiphany - the coming of the wise ones from the east with their gifts for the baby Jesus. Some would associate the magi’s visit to the babe at Bethlehem not with Epiphany but rather with Christmas, however, I’m glad that their story is officially told, in our church year now, almost two weeks after Christmas; for I think they have a special message for each of us in the gifts they bring to the Christ child.
And what gifts the brought! Matthew writes that, after their long journey from the East, when they last arrived at Bethlehem, led by the star, “On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
Theirs were strange gifts for a baby. Gold, frankincense, and myrrh. What are we to make of them; what is there meaning? Legends have sprung up concerning the magi from the East. In the early days eastern tradition said that there were twelve of them. But now the tradition that there were three is almost universal. Later legends made them kings, and gave them names: Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar. (and it is those names associated with our chalk and home blessing which will happen later this morning!) Still later legend assigned to each a personal description, and distinguished the gifts which each gave to Jesus. Melchior was an old man, grey haired, and with a long beard, and it was he who brought the gift of gold. Caspar was young and beardless, and ruddy in countenance, and it was he who brought the gift of frankincense. Balthasar was swarthy, with the beard newly grown upon him, and it was he who brought the gift of myrrh. Some speculate that these three gifts were possibly the elements that the magi used in their secret incantations.
After all, the word “magi” is where we get our word “magician”. These magi may have dabbled in the esoteric arts of magic and alchemy. So in giving the Christ child gold, frankincense, and myrrh, they were handing over the tricks of their trade. They were thereby demonstrating that they were no longer pagan dabblers in black magic, but were now bowing before the true God.
Had not Isaiah foretold of a day when even the Gentiles would come and worship in Israel, handing over their wealth in homage to the true God?
“... the wealth of the nations shall come to you... They shall bring gold and frankincense, and shall proclaim the praise of the Lord” (Isa 60.5-6)
Maybe.
Others speculate that these gifts are a kind of symbolic foreshadowing of what the life of this baby would be like. Gold is a gift for a king, and Jesus would be called king. Frankincense is a gift for a priest. It was in the Temple worship and at the Temple sacrifices that the sweet perfume of frankincense was used. One of the function of a priest is to open the way to God for people. That is what Jesus did. He opened the way to God; he made it possible for people to enter into the very presence of God. Myrrh was used in embalming the dead, used to dress the corpse. It thus foreshadowed the dark end that this baby would one day meet on the cross.
Maybe.
But instead of just pondering what the gifts mean in relation to Jesus, let us think what the mean for us. Think for a moment what useless gifts they were for a baby. A more practical gesture towards the new baby and his mother would be food, clothing, tickets out of Bethlehem before Herod finds them, nappies! What silly, useless gifts the magi laid before the poor baby!
And yet what a do you give the King of Kings, Lord of Lords, Saviour of the world who lies before us in the manger. When the Lord of life reaches down from heaven and touches the earth, condescends in love to come to us, in the flesh, as one of us, a baby come to set us free from sin and death, what do you give? What can you give?
When one considers the greatness of the gift we have been given in Christ, the wonder and majesty of it all, what can we give in return? Anything we give seems as pointless, perhaps as the gifts of the magi - no more adequate to the task, or useful for the journey, than the gold, the frankincense, and myrrh. Maybe that’s just the point. We, like the magi, gather before the manger, before the incarnation of God’s awesome love, fall to our knees, and fumble to find a gift worthy of such a gift. What have we to give? God’s gift to us is just too great, too wondrous for us to find a gift in return. So all we can do is like the magi, thrust forward the presents of the moment.
Maybe that’s always the way it is with our gifts to God. All we can do is offer God what we’ve got at the moment - ourselves. Our present to God is our presence to God. Don’t we know deep down the truth that the best gifts are the gifts that are ourselves: our time and attention, for as the writer Ralph Emerson once penned “The only true gift is a portion of yourself”
In response to God we come and offer our meagre, silly, and at times, pointless gifts to God. All that we are and can be! And if I left my sermon there it would be okay but I can hear the unspoken question in the air – how do I give my presence to God? It’s one thing to say we should, but it’s another thing to say how we should – to give guidance. So in a New Year spirit of intending to be more practical I do offer some guidance. But the first thing to note is something Benedict wrote in his rule some 15 centuries ago: We are already counted as God’s own. We need to know that a dull, mundane life stays a dull, mundane life, no matter how intent we become on developing spiritually. No amount of churchgoing will change that. What paying attention to the reality of God does is give us appreciation for the presence of God in our dull, mundane lives. We come to realise that we did not find God; God finally got our attention. The deeper spiritual life is a grace with which we must cooperate, not a prize to be captured or a trophy to be won. In other words, as we begin once more a new year, let us not bemoan our pitiful meagre faith and strive after God but stop and slow down and open ourselves to the presence of God already with us.
And so with that note in mind and as we begin this New Year may I be as so bold as to suggest the following five actions as ways we might offer ourselves to God. These come reflecting upon the writings of the desert fathers and mothers.
Live intentionally, not aimlessly: "Think nothing and do nothing without a purpose directed to God. For to journey without direction is wasted effort" (St. Mark the Ascetic, 5th century).
Celebrate theological modesty: "St. John Chrysostom says that we do not know wholly even what is given in part, but know only a part of a part" (St. Peter of Damaskos, 12th century).
Acknowledge my brokenness: "The person who has come to know the weakness of human nature has gained experience of divine power. Such a person never belittles anyone. . . . They know that God is like a good and loving physician who heals with individual treatment each of those who are trying to make progress" (St. Maximos the Confessor, 7th century). "A brother said to Abba Theodore, 'Speak a word to me for I am perishing.' Sorrowfully, the old man said: 'I myself am in danger. So what can I say to you?'"
Always think good of everyone: "Show the greatest gentleness toward all people" (Evagrios the Solitary, 4th century).
Read the obituaries: "At the moment of our death we will all know for certain what is the outcome of our life" (St. Gregory of Sinai, 13th century).
The Lord be with you.