Sunday, January 5th, 2025: "Religious Strangers"
The First United Presbyterian Church
“Religious Strangers”
Rev. Amy Morgan
January 5, 2025
Matthew 2:1-12
In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, magi from the east came to Jerusalem, 2 asking, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star in the east and have come to pay him homage.” 3 When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him, 4 and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. 5 They told him, “In Bethlehem of Judea, for so it has been written by the prophet:
6 ‘And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,
are by no means least among the rulers of Judah,
for from you shall come a ruler
who is to shepherd my people Israel.’ ”
7 Then Herod secretly called for the magi and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. 8 Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, “Go and search diligently for the child, and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.” 9 When they had heard the king, they set out, and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen in the east, until it stopped over the place where the child was. 10 When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. 11 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. 12 And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.
Anxious. Unmotivated. Irritable. Moody. Stressed. Depressed. These are all feelings scientists have identified as possible symptoms of a clinical condition known as “Post-Holiday Blues.” Once the gifts are opened, the food eaten, and the parties are over, a kind of malaise can set in that can be tough to overcome.
So for the next couple of months, we’re going to try to help anyone who may be suffering from this condition. We’re going to keep the high spirits of the holidays alive by focusing on gifts. Now, these aren’t the kinds of gifts that come wrapped up with a bow, of course. But we’re going to spend some time exploring and celebrating gifts we receive from God and how we share those gifts with the world.
Now, technically, the celebration of Epiphany isn’t until tomorrow, January 6. But the gifts of the magi were just too perfect of a kickoff for this series, and January 6 rarely falls on a Sunday. So today we’re going to talk about Epiphany, which comes from a Greek word meaning disclosure, manifestation, unveiling or appearance. It references the appearance of a star that discloses the place where Jesus was located. But there is a deeper epiphany that occurs in this story, a more meaningful unveiling that we celebrate. This story, found only in Matthew’s gospel, reveals not just where Jesus was but who Jesus is.
When we were kids, I always looked forward to Christmas gifts from my brother. I got lovely things from my other relatives – things I had specifically asked for, things I needed and wanted. But my brother’s gift would always be something special. A figuring of a sparkling castle, or a wizard with a beautiful purple stone on his staff. His gifts were never practical, never anything I’d asked for. They were fantastical, whimsical, magical. And they showed me that my brother really knew me. Instead of seeing the driven, serious, overachiever I tried to make people see, my brother saw the imaginative, dreamy, creative person I was too scared to share with most people. Today, you can walk into my office here at the church and see all the stacks of books and framed academic achievements. But there’s also a sparkly castle, and a strange wizard, and a couple of flying horses. These are gifts that show people who I am.
This is what the gifts of the magi do for Jesus. First, the gift of their presence in the story of Jesus shows us that Jesus is a gift to everyone, not just a particular people, not just to people in the know, not just to people who are part of the in-group or the elect or the righteous. These are religious outsiders. They aren’t Jews, in the ethnic or religious sense. They are from a different country and culture, and part of a different social class.
In her book Holy Envy, author Barbara Brown Taylor writes that “For reasons that will never be entirely clear, God has a soft spot for religious strangers, both as agents of divine blessing and recipients of divine grace - to the point that God sometimes chooses one of them over people who believe they should by all rights come first.”
By all rights, King Herod should have been the one bringing gifts and worshiping Jesus, the newborn King of the Jews, the promised Messiah, God’s Anointed One. Herod was, after all, of the same people as Jesus, from the same country and culture as Jesus, a leader of the Jews. He shouldn’t have had to ask foreign strangers for directions to Jesus’s house.
Instead, the news of this rival king gets everyone stirred up. The Greek word translated as frightened literally means to put something in motion, shaking it up, to agitate in the literal, physical sense. Herod thinks he’s got everything under control. He had been granted the title “King of the Jews” by the Roman Senate after sending them lavish gifts from the funds he accrued through heavy taxation of his own people. He maintained his authority with a secret police squad that would monitor the sentiments of his subjects toward him and eliminate any potential threats. Protests were prohibited, and he had a personal bodyguard of 2,000 soldiers. The threat of a rival king did not sit well with Herod, and his people knew it would mean trouble. When something started to move or shift in the kingdom of Herod, everyone paid the price. When the magi thwart Herod’s plan to destroy his potential rival, Herod resorts to genocide. Herod could not show the world who Jesus was because it would have toppled his tenuous grip on power. Herod could not see who Jesus was because it would turn his world upside-down.
So God used gifts from strangers and outsiders to show us who Jesus is.
Now, scripture doesn’t actually tell us how many magi made the road trip to Bethlehem. Tradition has assumed there were three of them because there were three gifts that were named. However many magi delivered them, the three gifts reveal critical pieces of Jesus’s identity.
All three items were standard gifts brought to honor a king or authority figure. Ancient inscriptions name these exact items as offerings to gods and kings. They were like bringing a bottle of wine to a dinner party or a dozen roses on Valentine’s Day. They were the gifts that would signify you were visiting royalty.
Frankincense, however, was also used in priestly incense sacrifices, symbolizing the priestly role Jesus would have. The book of Hebrews tells us that Jesus “had to become like his brothers and sisters in every respect, so that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make a sacrifice of atonement for the sins of the people.” Frankincense also has powerful curative properties, perhaps a nod to the healer Jesus would become.
Now myrrh is an odd gift for a baby, for anyone, really. It smells awful. The word myrrh comes from a Hebrew word meaning “bitter,” and it has notes of licorice, smoke, and rubber. In the first century, it was primarily used as an embalming agent. It was, essentially, the smell of death.
Which means that these magi knew that Jesus was not only a king and a priest, but also a sacrifice.
The gifts of the magi reveal who Jesus is. A king who is concerned not just for a particular people or for the preservation of his own power, but a king who is for all people and who restores our relationship with God through self-sacrifice. And it is the strangers, the outsiders, who see this and who reveal this to the world. This is the true epiphany.
Today, there are a lot of different ideas about who Jesus is. Walk into ten different churches, and you’ll find at least ten different Jesuses. In conversations with folks just in our congregation, I’ve witnessed numerous depictions of Jesus. Our own hymnal sings of “what a friend we have in Jesus,” and “Christ, the judge shall come.” Some folks see him as a moral example and others as a kind of divine magician. He’s a military commander in spiritual warfare for some and a peaceful protester for social justice for others.
And our image of who Jesus is shapes how we respond to him. A judge demands obedience. A friend demands an emotional connection. A militant Jesus turns us into soldiers. A moral Jesus turns us into hypocrites. A socialist Jesus is a threat to capitalism. A magic Jesus is a threat to rationalism.
These are extremes, of course, and most of us honestly struggle to define just who we think Jesus is. And so maybe it’s worthwhile to look to the strangers and the outsiders to help us see his true identity.
Someone online posited the question “to those who aren’t Christian, how do you view Jesus?” One response noted: “Jesus was an amazing individual who respected women, slaves, foreigners, the poor, and the ill and injured - showing us how to love by serving others. Many of his teachings are solidly good ideas no matter who you are, where you are from - so I have no issue with his character.” Another responder said, “Love the guy, hate the fan club.” Outsiders to Christianity often point out that he was a refugee, a political prisoner, and a healer. And they often point out how those who claim to follow him fail to reflect what they see.
Our church has received some strange gifts over the years from those outside our religious circle. A glass of water and a pack of cigarettes. Bags of random food and old photographs. And, I’m sorry to say, perhaps we didn’t reflect much on what they were saying about Jesus. Maybe they were showing us with these gifts that Jesus is the living water who told us that when we give a thirsty person something to drink, we are giving it to him. He’s the one who is worth giving up everything for, even our most treasured and tenacious addictions. He’s the one who fed the hungry and told us to remember him in breaking bread. He’s the one who made us all children of God and united us as family in all times and all places.
As we begin to celebrate the 150th year in the life of this congregation, may we welcome the epiphanies that come from the gifts of outsiders. We may be tempted to focus inward, to listen only to those who have been a part of our story, our family tree, our religion and culture and class. Our religious ancestors have things to teach us and important stories to tell. But those “religious strangers,” as Barbara Brown Taylor calls them, may show us who Jesus is now and where he is leading us in the future. May we recognize their gifts and all they reveal.
To God be all glory forever and ever. Amen.
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