January 8, 2017 – Matthew 2:1-12
Matthew 2:1-12
God in the Darkness
The Epiphany of our Lord [transferred] – January 8, 2017
First Lutheran Church – Winnipeg, MB
Their journey begins by finding a light in darkness.
And their journey ends by finding a light in darkness.
The magi were what we might call astrologers –
but they took their study of the sky seriously, and were,
in fact, knowledgeable and observant.
They were close observers of nature – and they wanted to know what meaning, if any,
was buried in nature – for they were sure it was there.
One dark night, as they watched and studied, they noticed something different.
They noticed a new star had been born.
They noticed something had changed.
And believing that change signalled something important,
they set out to discover just what that was – something in creation had changed.
This story in Matthew about the magi is endlessly interesting.
There is much that is admirable about the magi themselves.
We admire their science and their knowledge and their powers of astute observation.
We admire and seek to emulate their certainty that creation holds meaning.
We admire their simple willingness to set out from home, into the unknown,
on a journey with real risk, and no real promise of their finding what they seek.
We admire their determination to not stop until they find what they are looking for.
I think we also admire their powers of observation when it comes not just to nature,
but to human beings – the magi read Herod like they read the night sky, and they
discern the terrible power that would make them complicit in a terrible deed.
We admire their generosity and their gift giving – the source of all gift giving at Christmas time.
There is much to learn from and much to admire about the magi.
And yet, this year, I find myself thinking about what this story tells us about God.
The magi look at the night sky, and they see that something has changed.
When they find what they are looking for, they discover, somewhat surprisingly,
a humble child born to humble parents in a very humble setting.
Not a terribly inspiring scene – but it is if you are observant,
and the magi are nothing if not observant.
To everyone’s surprise and delight, the magi kneel down and worship the child.
And they offer him gifts fit for a king: gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
What is it they observe? What is it they see?
I don’t know, exactly – and neither do you, because Matthew never tells us.
It never fails to surprise me when I read this every year:
On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother;
and they knelt down and worshipped him.
The appearance of big showy stars in the ancient world signalled the birth of
someone really important.
Great kings and queens and powerful men and women.
But what the magi find is to all appearances someone not very important.
They do go to the local palace – that is their obvious first stop after all.
But what they are looking for is not there.
When they find the humble child in the humble house, they know, somehow,
that they have found exactly what they are looking for.
I have been thinking a lot about the notion of the incarnation this year –
it is the most important thing about Christmas.
That in Jesus, God has become a flesh and blood person.
That Jesus is God in the flesh.
That Jesus is the exact image or icon of God: that when we look at Jesus we see exactly –
exactly – what God is like.
That in Jesus God experiences all that we experience – all the difficulty, all the stress,
all the struggle, all the injustice, and can minister to us and love us and help us and
encourage us and strengthen us all the more effectively.
And now, this week, we discover something else about the incarnation,
something else that the magi help us discern.
With them, we discover that in Jesus God doesn’t just join God’s self to human beings,
but that somehow God is now joined intimately to all of creation.
The magi, I think, look at this child, and something clicks for them.
I don’t know how, exactly, because again Matthew doesn’t tell us.
But they look at this child, and they discern God is present in the humble child born to these
humble parents.
And they realize that in this child God has joined God’s self to all the humble poor of this world.
That God is for all people – not just the rich in power but the poor and humble.
And that is obviously significant for them, for these outsiders and foreigners.
But there is more, I think, that they realize.
Their long and perilous journey signifies that they have observed something else,
and maybe they don’t realize what it is until they find this child.
I don’t know if there was something particularly unusual about this particular star.
But they notice that something has changed – and when they find the child they discover,
I think, what that is.
They discover that God has joined God’s self to all those things in creation they –
or anyone else – did not think God could possibly be.
To the humble, to the poor.
But I think they also discover, that God has joined God’s self to nature itself.
They discover that God has somehow fused God’s self not just with us – but to creation.
That is why they noticed something different in the night sky.
Even the stars were changed, and a star shone differently in the night sky.
Now God shines in the darkness.
Truly their journey began by finding a light in darkness.
But just as truly their journey ends by finding a light in darkness.
This is not a story with a particularly happy ending.
It ends with Mary and Jesus and Joseph forced to become refugees.
And it ends with the murder of 100s or maybe even of 1000s of innocent children.
But something has changed – and the magi are observant enough to notice.
The night sky they looked at was dark,
yet a light shone in it that the darkness could not overcome.
The situation they ended up in was dark –
yet a light shone in that darkness that the darkness could not overcome.
The light was the light of all people – all people.
In Jesus God came for the poor to love them and care for them and ultimately minister to them.
In Jesus God came for the stranger and the foreigner and the refugee.
In Jesus God came for the vulnerable and the innocent.
And, they discover, in Jesus God came even for creation.
For the stars and the sky, for the paths they walked on, for the valleys they journeyed through,
for the trees they passed by, for the animals that scurried away as they
walked by day and by night.
Something had changed.
God hallows all people and all creation by intimately joining the divine self to all of it.
Simply because God loves it.
Martin Luther thought this was one of the deepest meanings of the incarnation:
that God now, somehow, through Jesus, has become intimately part of all creation.
I know Christ is in the bread and wine, Luther famously said,
because Christ is in my cabbage soup.
There is nowhere now Christ and his love cannot be found.
There is no darkness so great that Christ cannot be found there.
Not the dark night sky and not the dark tyranny of an unjust reign.
Christ and the love of God is now to be found everywhere – and that is great good news.
No matter what darkness we observe, Christ and his light have joined Christ’s self to it.
No matter what darkness we enter into, Christ and his light have joined Christ’s self to it.
There is now nothing that can separate us from the love of God in Christ.
God’s deepest desire is communion – communion and intimacy and closeness.
Throughout the Hebrew scriptures God has desired communion and intimacy and closeness with
human beings and with creation – and with the incarnation of Jesus takes a deep breath,
and with all the risk and heartache that that will entail, takes the plunge,
and enters into all our darkness to dwell with us there and love us there.
Till light comes again.
The good news in the story is that no matter what your darkness is, Christ will be there.
For Christ already is.
The good news in the story is that no matter what darkness the world is in, Christ will be there.
For Christ already is.
Jesus has joined himself to your darkness – like the magi,
you may not discover how that is so exactly until
you have endured a long journey through difficult days and dark nights.
But something has changed – something now is different in you and in the world around you.
God is present in your darkness – and nothing can ever change that.
Jesus will shine a light for you there, a light for when all others go out –
a light that will never go out.
A light of love and encouragement, a light of solidarity and hope – a light that proclaims,
God is with us. Our Emmanuel.
May you blessed with determination as – with the magi – you journey from darkness to light.
And together, let us say, “Amen.”
Pastor Michael Kurtz
If you enjoyed this post, please consider to leave a comment or subscribe to the feed and get future articles delivered to your feed reader.
