Epiphany Day Year C

Isaiah 60:1-6, Psalm 72:1-7,10-14, Ephesians 3:1-12, Matthew 2:1-12

Today we transition out of the Christmas season and into something new. We move beyond the simplicity of Luke’s story of a humble birth with angels and shepherds, and beyond John’s exquisite message of the Word becoming flesh and living among us.

Today we begin the Epiphany season – shifting from rejoicing at God’s coming among us to reflecting on what it means to us and to the life of the world. But before we talk about our world today, let’s take a closer look at the world presented in the gospel.

Each of the gospels were written to different audiences, and Matthew writes to a mainly Jewish audience. I mention this because most of what Matthew writes has direct quotes or allusions to Hebrew Scriptures, otherwise known as the Old Testament. Matthew does this because the central concern of his gospel is showing the ways that Jesus fulfills all of the prophecies about the Messiah. While the story today is not overly filled with quotes or allusions it does set the plan in motion for many of the other fulfillments that are to come.

Our gospel today tells us of two things. One is the magi, or wise men, coming to pay homage to the baby Jesus.  The other is King Herod learning about the birth of the one who is being called the king of the Jews.

Herod has mixed reactions when he hears about the birth of Jesus. To the wise men he seems excited to hear the news that they have shared, but really he is frightened by the potential of this newly born king.  Though today’s gospel does not share more of his reaction, we know that when the wise men do not return to Herod, Herod has all of the young boys killed in Bethlehem and the surrounding areas to try to eliminate Jesus.

So why does Herod react so strongly to the news of this child’s birth? Perhaps it is because the one thing that the powerful seek more than anything else is to remain in power. Gone from Herod and his court is the memory that God placed them in their positions to serve rather than be served. Herod seeks his own ends and so is immediately threatened by even the mere mention of another – and therefore rival – king.  This baby, this king of the Jews, could be the very thing that will remove him from power.

Or perhaps his reaction is simply because of the presence of these three wise men and their quest for God’s messiah.  It is their announcement that the world is changing, that God is approaching, which means nothing can remain the same.  This is the promise of the messiah.  The promise of a new world order.  The arrival of these wise men signals that the reach of God’s embrace is broadening, that there is no longer “insider” and “outsider,” but that all are included in God’s plan for salvation. This isn’t a new theme in Judaism, as from the very beginning of the story of God’s relationship to humanity, God promises to bless Abraham, so that he may, in turn, be a blessing from the world.

But now it is happening – all are being drawn in by Christ, and who knows what may change next.

Whatever its causes, fear is a powerful thing. It causes us to close down, to rely on the comfort of what we know to be sure, to be safe.  It can also cause us to do irrational acts in order to avoid confronting that fear.  In response to his fear of becoming powerless Herod kills many innocent children, an act that will be remembered and associated with Herod until the end of days.

But what about us? What does fear do to us? Do we install more security systems in our homes and cars? Do we build more gates? Do we build up walls and barriers that protect us from the unknown, that shield us from what we fear most? Do we close our hearts – and minds – to those who are different?

We live in a world riddled by fear, a world of devastating natural disasters and violence by our very hands.  We live in a world where people die everyday to preventable illness and hunger. In Matthew’s story of the visit of the wise men– and the violence in the verses to come – Matthew shows us a difficult picture of the world, a world that still looks eerily similar to the world beyond these walls.  But we cannot live in a place of fear.  We cannot close ourselves off to those who need us most just because they don’t look like us, or act like us, or think like us.

That is what is at the heart of Matthew’s story of the birth of Jesus: the promise that God came to this world, to these people so mastered by fear, to this gaping need that we have and bear because God loves us. Jesus is Emmanuel, God with us, the living promise that God chose to come live and die for us, as we are, so that in Christ’s resurrection we, too might experience newness of life.

And so to God we bring our gifts as the wise men did. We bring all of ourselves as a gift, our strengths and our weaknesses, our hopes and our fears, our deepest desires and our deepest regrets.  

As the gifts are brought forward and the table is prepared, picture yourself being brought up with them.

What are you holding onto that you have been afraid to let go of?  Can you give yourself wholly and completely over to God, without fear and without reservation? What talents, interests, or passions might we see as gifts from God that we now can offer to Jesus by giving them to those all around us and especially to those in need?

We must bring ourselves wholly and completely so that when our fears begin to take control of our thinking and actions we can offer that fear up to God and in turn receive the strength and comfort that comes with faith in God through Christ Jesus.