Valois United Church

January 6, 2008

Isaiah 60:1-6
Psalm 72
Ephesians 3:1-12
Matthew 2:1-12

Hello - you’ve heard about me.
I’m one of the Magi. One of the Wise Men, as some translations say in your language.

Your language is not my first language. I speak Persian - seeing as how I live in Persia, which is a bit bigger than your Iran. Fortunately, I’ve picked up a bit of other languages too, which you’ll see is important....

I’m a Magi. That means a bunch of stuff. It means that I’m part of religion that is expecting a saviour, born of a virgin. It also means I get a lot of late nights. No, I don’t party a lot. I spend a lot of time looking at the night sky. In fact, I’m pretty passionate about it: you can see all sorts of things in the stars. And someday people will thank us for our work that is foundational to mathematics and astronomy.

But I’d better get on with my story. One night I’m out watching the sky. In fact, my interest this time is the western sky just after the sun has set. Still early in my books. Did I tell you about my books?.... another time.

My story....

I’m looking at the sky to the west, checking each of those bright lights that I consider to be like friends, they are so familiar. But this evening I see a stranger in their midst. A star I have never seen before. I fix my eyes upon it, and note exactly where it is amongst the stars so familiar.

And then I run and get together with my magi friends. “A new star! I say. “I have seen a new star!”

They look at me with doubtful eyes - they always do when I tell them something - but they follow me to the top of the hill just outside of the city, where we can see most clearly. But my new star has set in the western sky, along with its neighbours that I spotted beside it. “Come tomorrow evening”, I insist. “Come tomorrow. If there is nothing.... well, I will make it up to you somehow.....”

And the next day comes, and at sunset we gather upon the hill. And as the light from the sky fades, and the glowing friends, the stars, appear, I can see it again, even brighter than yesterday, hanging in the western sky.

And my friends join in my excitement. And one exclaims: “A new star! A bright, new star, fit for a king. A king is born! A king!”

What you may not know is that we magi, in our homeland, are responsible for appointing the kings of our land. It is a great responsibility. Well, we cannot appoint kings anywhere else. But we can certainly make sure that people know to whom they should look to see their next king.....

And so we agree, our group of star-gazing magi, that we should go. My friends hesitate about me going. But I had spotted the star first. And I also have the biggest camel, and can carry the most stuff, so in the end it was agreed. I will go too.

We also agree that we should take gifts for the king-child. “Gold” said one of my friends, and all agreed. That one was easy. “Frankincense” said the second. “Why?” he is asked. “Because this king is more than a king. I’m sure it is the one spoken of in our writings, and in the sacred writings of the people of Israel as well - one worthy of worship. Let us take the frankincense, that incense worthy to be offered even to a god.” And so it is.

And then it is my voice that is heard. “Myrrh,” I say. They look at me as they usually do: with puzzled, disbelieving faces. “Myrrh,” I say, for I am sure that as that star appeared out of the blood-red sky of the setting sun, that this child will know suffering in this year. Myrrh, which we use for the embalming of the dead.... yes, it is sadly the right thing.” They look at me, and shake their heads. But they do not object. And so it is.

Now, you think there are three of us travellers. I’m not telling you how many there are, but I know that your scriptures do not say how many we are. And for the long journey ahead, we are a full camel-train, for to travel as only a few together, with such rich gifts, is inviting trouble.

So, after all our preparation, we finally set off on our journey.

What a journey. Hot sun in the daytime. Cold in the nights when we camp, fixing our eyes on the star each evening, and watching as the star progresses up into the heavens as we draw to the west.

What a journey. I could tell you of the thieves who attacked us, of the jackals in the wilderness, of the days without fresh water.

But that did not matter. The heat did not matter. The cold either. The marauding humans and marauding animals did not matter. Only the star, shining in the bowl of the sky.

Through the western parts of Persia. Into Syria. And now into Judea. Weeks and months passing. And the star, bright, rising into the heights of the heavens.

“Ahh”, says the most senior of our company, “We are in Judea, and the star is bringing us to Jerusalem, the holy city of the people of Israel. We shall find the king in the city.”

“No,” I reply. “It is not Jerusalem. Look again to the star: it shines to the south of the city. Maybe there is a humble town to which we should go.”

“It is not so. It will be Jerusalem,” he says again with confidence. “We know of the king of Jerusalem: we shall ask him where to find the new king. He, too, will be celebrating, and anticipating the crowning of the new king, anticipating passing the crown on to one who is revealed by the star.”

I am sure this is wrong. But I am not the wisest amongst us. I just spotted the star first. And have the biggest camel. And so I am quiet.

We come to Jerusalem, and the people look at us with wonder. Not often a camel train arrives from Persia. And certainly not with magi. We make our way to the palace, and we seek an audience with King Herod. We are told that he will be delighted to see us, when we send a message that we have news of a new king.

We are shown into the room where he is seated and we all bow. Now, I said it is a good thing to know more than one language. For here, in this court, speaking Latin is certainly an asset. And most of our group does. Our senior magi asks him “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star when it first appeared, and we have come to pay tribute.”

King Herod looks at us, and then tells us to wait in another room. He looks.... troubled. Even afraid. He does not look to me like he is celebrating the news of a new king. But the others do not want to hear my thoughts. I’m only along because I spotted the star. And have the largest camel.

A while later we are summoned. He still looks troubled, but verrrry controlled. I don’t like it. At all. He says to us “I have enquired where the child would be born. I have an answer for you. But first, please tell me when the star first appeared.”

The others look at me, and I calculate the times, and speak: “Your majesty, the star appeared two years ago. It has take a long time to prepare and to travel such a long way.”

“It is good”, King Herod replies, “that you have travelled so far. Your quest will end soon: go to Bethlehem, just 10 kilometres south from here, and search for the child there. And, because I want to go to see the child and honour the child” (I’m sure I see a smirk there) “please come back to tell me exactly where the child is living, and with whom.”

“Indeed we will”, said our most senior.

And we leave and head south. On arriving in Bethlehem, it is evening, and the star seems to hang over our heads. The star I spotted. And somehow no one objects when I ease to the front of the camel-train, and somehow I know where to go.

We ride up to a house, and I stop. “This is it”, I say to the others. We go in, as many of us as we can, greeting those within in Aramaic, though we only know a few words, and then we see the child. I learn their names, and speak to Joseph, who tells me that the child before us is two years old this day.

And the command is given, and the gifts brought in, with the parents looking awestruck in their humble home. Gold, frankincense, myrrh: special gifts for a special King.

And we - how are we feeling? We know that this is not a king. This is The King. This King that we behold is not just for a nation. We did not ride from Persia just to visit with a king for Judea. No, as we bow we know: this King is for Judea, and the Roman Empire, and for Persia and for the whole world. This is the one that we have awaited. This is the one the people of this land have awaited. This is the one for each of you: your King, the one to direct your lives.

We spend some time that day in that house, kneeling in silent, joyous praise. And then we go out of the house.

“We cannot go back to King Herod” I say. They look at me, incredulous. “We cannot. It is a cruel trap for this innocent child. We cannot tell him about him. And if we go back to Jerusalem, he will force us to tell him. Ask the people about him. If they will talk, they will tell you. They will say he is a mad-man. Listen to me!”

But they do not listen. I am along only because I spotted the star. And I have the largest camel, for carrying the most cargo.

We find lodging for the night in Bethlehem.
And I dream of King Herod.
And the others dream of King Herod.
And they are not good dreams.

And the next morning, the most senior among us calls us together. “We will not go back to Jerusalem,” he says, glancing quickly in my direction. “We will go back another way.”

And so it is, my friends.
We travelled long in the light of the star,
to find the Light of the world.
And we knew
we knew,
when we saw him
that he was the King
that he was the Light
for all nations.

And maybe I was not the most important magi, as I was only along because I spotted the star... and had the biggest camel.
But the One we saw, in the light of the star,
is my Light
and my King.

And so it is, my friends,
that as we travelled to our home, in a far-off land,
that we spoke of how we would share the news,
share the light,
share the joy.

And today,
as you go from this place,
you have already journeyed with me.
And, through my eyes, you have come to that place
where the King was found.
You have travelled in the light of the star.
You have travelled to the Light of the world.

Now, as you turn for home:
what difference will it make for you
that you, too, have seen the Light?

When people look at you, this week,
will they see the Light reflected in you?

When people meet you, this year,
will they know that you have paid tribute to the King?

May it be so!