Sermon from December 26, 2004

“The Other Side of Christmas”

Rev. Patricia L. Liberty

Scriptures:

Isaiah 63:7-9

Friends of ours take particular delight in sending us funny religious cards to see if they can get a rise out of us when we get the Biblical puns, some more obvious than others. There are two cards that came to us this year different from the ones I talked about at the 11:00 service that you may have heard.

The first one shows a lovely manger scene on the outside, with the little star and all the shepherds. You open the card and it says, “It’s a girl!” The second one is the “Top Ten List of Things Overheard As the Wise Men Journeyed to Jerusalem”—à la David Letterman. Number 10: “I hope we get to an oasis soon. I’m getting really thirsty.” Number 9: “If they can send a man to Damascus, how come they can’t make a saddle that doesn’t chafe?” Number 8: “Did you ever eat a camel? Here. It tastes like goat.” Number 7: “What kind of name is Balthazar, anyhow?” Number 6: “If you think the road to Bethlehem is rough, you should try the road to Galilee.” Number 5: “Speaking of Bethlehem, are you still going out with a girl named Beth Lehem?” Number4: “How come myrrh is spelled with a ‘y’ instead of a ‘u’?” Number 3: “Okay, whose camel just spit?” Number 2: “Do you think maybe we should have brought a casserole and some extra swaddling clothes instead?” The Number 1 thing overheard of the wise men on their way to Bethlehem, “Nah, we’re not lost. We don’t need to stop for directions.”

Not even the Wise Men escaped the clutches of humor. It, maybe, a sign that these little recognized characters are, finally, coming into their own a little bit. The Wise Men kind of came in on the tail end of Christmas. Christmas comes in with a big bang and then it goes out with a little bit of a whimper. With the exception of a few Christmas carols devoted to the Wise Men, they slide in and out all but unnoticed. Matthew was the only gospel writer who records the visitation of the Magi. Perhaps, it’s because they appear on the scene as somewhat mysterious. We don’t really know a whole lot about them. I guess we’re just as happy to let them slip out as quietly as they slipped in.

Some scholars suggest that the Wise Men were probably Babylonian astrologers following a star that appeared in the sky as long as two years before they actually arrived in Bethlehem. Astrological records note the presence of aberrant lights in the night sky including what we now know to be Haley’s Comet at times that roughly corresponds to the journey of these travelers. When looked at this way, it maybe that these shadowy characters are the three earliest disciples leaving home and country for an unknown place and an uncertain timeline bearing gifts of great value for one in whom they believed but had not yet seen.

But what’s most hopeful about these mercurial characters showing up in our Scripture, for me at least, is that they suggested there’s room at the manger for those who come by different paths, by those whose journeys are out of the norm, for those who show up late bringing weird gifts and dressed differently; because if there’s room for them in the manger, I guess it means that there’s room for the rest of us, as well.

Being and becoming a Christian is a different journey for everyone. Some may be cradle Christians, born and raised in the church never leaving the church’s embrace. Many of us come and return home in our own prodigal time. Still, others find their way to the embrace of the living God only in the midst of the complexities of their adult journey. The Wise Men remind us that faithfulness is a unique journey. Its unfolding is different in everyone’s life. There in that small manger, there’s room for all of us.

It maybe that one of the things that make these Wise Men wise is that they honored the unfolding of their journey. Oh, sure, it’s fun to make to make jokes about their showing up late and bringing impractical gifts but they are who they were—unapologetic, no explanations. They showed up. They offered their gifts.

The bulk of scholars wax eloquent about the significance of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Myrrh was used as an embalming ointment. Gold was the gift of royalty. Frankincense was used in temple worship. But if we look for the deep symbolism, we can slide right by the obvious. The obvious is that their gifts were honest. It was the best they had. Their value was not found in how much they cost but in the spirit in which they were given.

What one of us doesn’t know the joy of the simplest of gifts given from the heart—the beauty of gifts made with love and care, gifts that are so carefully chosen for that special person? How many of us have received the handmade gifts of children and count them among our most-prized possessions? In looking only at the monetary value, we miss the significance of gifts as the honest offerings of honest seekers whose journey was fulfilled when they found the manger.

I think the story of the Wise Men is also a story about transformation in the midst of uncertainty. If you remember, the Wise Men’s first conversation was with Herod who, though he was called king, was, in truth, a puppet for the imperial Roman authorities occupying Judea. Herod, for all of his power, was actually a man grounded in fear.

Kathleen Norris writes, “To me, Herod symbolizes the terrible destruction that fearful people can leave in their wake if their fear is unacknowledged; if they have power but can use it only in furtive, pathetic, and futile attempts at self-preservation.” Herod’s fear is like a mighty wind. It can’t be seen but its effect dominates the landscape.

The Wise Men, being men of power, went to Herod because power goes to power. They went to Herod for their information. It could be compared to a foreign dignitary coming to the United States. He wouldn’t go to a 7-11 for information but seek out the people in parallel positions of power. Initially, they were co-opted into Herod’s plan but what makes them finally different from Herod is their willingness to change. After meeting the living, incarnate Christ, they go home by a different way.

It’s one of my favorite verses from Scripture: “Being warned in a dream, they went to their own country by another road”—a simple, yet profound sentence. There, in that moment, from that dream, knowledge bows to truth, power ceases to collude with power, privilege and position give way to humility. It is, perhaps, the most hopeful part of the story.

True power is not about one’s place in society; although few of us who are white and/or male and/or straight recognize the privilege that affords. Meeting the Living Christ and finding a different way home comes to mean that we understand that wealth is not about what we have but about what we share; that this human journey is not about how far we can get ahead of someone else but how well we learn to walk beside them; that wisdom is measured not by how much we know but by how well we attend to the mysteries of life that are within and around us. That’s what meeting the Living Christ is all about.

It may be that the Wise Men were wise simply because they got that message and it changed them. They went home a different way and Herod’s fear did not consume them. Going home by another way means not being afraid in this world, in this life, for God knows there’s much to fear. Meeting the Living Christ changed them and it can change us. Going home by another way means that we live into the true meaning of Christmas best expressed, perhaps, in one of my favorite poems by Howard Thurman:

“When the song of the angels is stilled,

When the star in the sky is gone,

When the kings and princes are home,

When the shepherds are back with their flock,

The work of Christmas begins.

To find the lost, to heal the broken,

To feed the hungry, to release prisoners,

To rebuild the nations, to bring peace among the people,

To make music in the heart.”

May we, like the Wise Men, go home a different way. Amen.

- Taylor, Barbara Brown: Home By Another Way