This was the moment when Before
Turned into After, and the future's
Uninvented timekeepers presented arms.
This was the moment when nothing
Happened. Only dull peace
Sprawled boringly over the earth.
This was the moment when even energetic Romans
Could find nothing better to do
Than counting heads in remote provinces.
And this was the moment
When a few farm workers and three
Members of an obscure Persian sect
Walked haphazard by starlight straight
Into the kingdom of heaven.
The story we remember on the feast of Epiphany completes the story of the birth of Christ with the arrival of travellers from the east. They are called magi, wise men, magicians, or even kings, and the traditions that have spun off of themhas resulted in much speculation about their mysterious identities. In an attempt to nail down the story, legend ventured that there must have been three, one for each of the named gifts, and some even went so far as to give them names and cultural identities. But whether they were practitioners of magic, priests of royal courts, or astrologer and scholars, it is their actions that give them their role in the story. They were willing to follow a star.
Long before telescopes and computers, people named the stars and charted their long journeys through the heavens. These early stargazers noticed patterns and consistency in their movements. Perhaps we can imagine they felt the stars were part of a greater story, and that the stars had the power to influence events on earth.
Early books of the Bible testify to the power of stars in the life of ancient people. Job mentions three constellations: the Bear, Pleiades, and Orion. Childless Abram goes out at night and hears a promise from God that he will have many children, as numerous as the stars. Stars are said to “Sing together” and “shout for joy” in the Book of Job, and Psalm 147 tells us God names all the stars and determines their number. Clearly, the stars held meaning for the ancient people of God.
So at Epiphany, we see wise men coming from the east, following a star.
Perhaps the wise men got hooked on studying the stars when they were kids. One night they were looking and saw a star unlike any they had ever seen. We don’t know how but they identified the location of the star as being over Israel. They did some research and somehow determined the star was announcing the birth of the King of the Jews.
What they did next was fascinating! They packed up to find the King. We know they were well-to-do by the gifts they took with them. It took them awhile to get to there, certainly many months. When they got to Israel they did the logical thing and went to the capital city. That’s where they expected he had been born. But they were wrong. They asked around and found out the Bible prophesied the King would be born in Bethlehem. They headed there.
As they left Jerusalem they were thrilled to see the star again! This time it led them right to Jesus. They found him in a house and worshiped him, giving him the expensive gifts they brought. As they headed home they were warned in a dream not to tell King Herod where they found the King. They obeyed and went home without telling him..
There are dozens of theories on where the wise men originated and how they knew so much about stars; the Greek word used in Matthew’s gospel is Magi, a group of learned scholars who advised kings by interpreting dreams and astrology. While much about the wise men is unclear, what is clear is that these men are not Judeans, but Gentiles.
They are bearing witness to a cosmic event of astronomical proportions: the birth of a baby—though nobody seems to know exactly where he is.
We can imagine their shock when they discover that Herod is clueless about where this baby was located. Surely, King Herod would know if a king were born in his kingdom. It is in this detail that we can see how foreign these wise men are; they are seemingly naïve, unaware of the dangerous politics of Judea and unaware of how different this new king will be from other kings. They are simply seeking the king whom the star announced.
They follow the star until it stops over the place where Jesus was. It’s so simple. While it may seem mysterious and strange to us to follow a star this way, it is not strange for them. It is simply how they understand the world. It is simply how they found Jesus.
This is a story of journey and discovery that teaches us a lot about what it means to search for God in the midst of our own life experiences. Commentator William Arnold lays it out in this way: First, these wise people had been studying. They knew their history. They hadn’t merely stumbled onto this momentous event. They had searched their own past and their sacred texts, and the result of their study was a readiness, or at least a willingness, to recognisethe sign when it appeared. Second, these scholarly folk did not keep their noses in the books all the time. They also were keen observers of the world around them. . . . Third, they were willing to seek confirmation of what they had learned and seen. They moved, put their feet . . . in motion to follow this sign. They took a chance on being proven wrong – or right! Fourth, they were willing to ask for directions along the way, even if they were wrong in their choice of who they asked. Fifth, having found the confirmation of their convictions . . . they responded with all the gratitude they could muster. Sixth . . . they still remained vigilant and attentive – open to further visions and insight – and thus they were responsive to their dream-delivered warning to go home by another road.
The magi provide a powerful illustration of what the journey of faith, and the journey of life, can look like when we focus our intentions and attention in the right places. Willingness, observing, action, seeking guidance, responding with gratitude, and continued openness; these sound almost like a list of new year’s resolutions of ways to be more faithful. The magi help give us tools that can help us find our own stars to follow towards the epiphanies God has in store for us in the coming year.
Which brings us to our covenant prayer on the first Sunday of 2024. We make our promises looking up to the possibilities that the grace of God might lead us to. We journey in faith believing God is worth following. We begin the year looking up.
One of the permanent sculptures in the grounds of Houghton Hall in West Norfolk is by the American artist James Turrell. It is a simple square structure on stilts, accessed by a gently ascending path winding right round it to an open door. And there, unbidden by anything except instinct, a hush falls on even the most talkative of people. There is nothing inside the room. But also, somehow, immense promise and possibility. The wooden seat running around its four walls invites you to sit and lean back. And you notice for the first time the enormous square opening above which leaves you completely exposed - to the turning of day and night, to the weather, and to something powerful which stirs in you as you look up and through it.
Turrell’s construction forces you to focus on the sky and, drenched with the wonder of that sky, and quieted by the requirement to pay it complete attention, you find yourself in sacred space. You are in an observatory but also in a chapel. The similarities between prayer and star-gazing are strong.
Both require us to stop and fall silent, to abandon ourselves to watching and waiting.
We know so little about Matthew’s mysterious magi but their unswerving focus cannot be doubted. Their openness both to God and to scanning the skies leads to their obedient following of the sign of their times: a difficult journey follows, a dangerous encounter with a despot, and then, homeward bound, a last-minute change of direction. But within all that, what a discovery!
It is not always easy to follow a star. As the year turns in this fractured world, we would be wise men and women to try to read the signs of our times in the context of prayer, of watching and waiting upon God. Our current lostness and longing will lead to new discoveries, new responsibilities. Where will we be led this year? What will be our Epiphany?
Maybe the question that faced Herod is the one that faces us: how will you react to the child who has come to bridge the gap between the Divine and the human?
If we recognise that Jesus is God’s outrageous gift of generosity that changes lives, then we can begin to move from the restrictive fear that Herod felt to the liberating joy that the Magi experienced as the star led them to the place where they could meet God. If we accept that Jesus is the bridge of hope and redemption we can move from despair to hope, from emptiness to fulfilment and from darkness to light.
Jesus, Word made flesh, the physical presence of God, takes us from the reality of the incarnation to the unfolding realisation of who and what God is and does as we celebrate Epiphany. Without God’s inspiration and engagement, humanity would have remained stuck in a place far from hope and far from heaven.
God’s gift to the world was his taking flesh, being born, we need to accept that gift. That’s the best way to begin a New Year. We renew our covenant. We journey in faith. “Those who follow the Creator of the stars often find themselves in the midst of an Epiphany, called to follow stars that may at first seem beyond their reach.” We need to heed the example of these wise men. For them Jesus was worth not just the gold, frankincense and myrrh, not just travelling the 1400 mile round trip, not just going back to their own country another way, they were willing to risk everything to find him, accept him then be changed by him.
Whoever you are, wherever your star is, don’t losesight. Don’t lose hope. Keep on with your journey. Follow the star. Be excited this year that there are new things to be discovered. Every day.
Thank you for reading these reflections as we’ve journeyed through Advent and through Christmas. I’ve been glad to know people have enjoyed them. I’ll do another series in Lent.
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