Sermons

Starry Nights

Deborah Hughes                            Third Presbyterian Church
January 7, 2007                      Psalm 72/Matthew 2:1-12

What’s your favorite Bible passage? That was a question that was posed to the officers of the church and the program staff before our officers’ retreat yesterday. We were supposed to bring our favorite Bible passage and some reflection on its meaning for us. I can tell you that I had more than one phone call or e-mail from an officer who asked, “Where would I find that verse that sounds something like…” or, “Where is it that the Bible says. . .?” Now, I should have been in touch with Pam Foye and Susie Hengerer, because they would have suggested that I just tell people to “Google” it! And if you “Google” the passage--or enough words in the passage--sure enough! It may pop right up for you. It’s our new, modern day concordance!

Often we do not remember exactly what the text says, or even exactly where the text is, but we do remember what it says to us. This is how we receive the word of God: through our own experience. This is also how we convey the experience of God working in our own lives: through our own story, when we share it with others. Somewhere between fact and story we find truth. Somewhere between experience and reflection, we find meaning.

Somewhere, somehow, on a starry night, gathered around a rickety manger with stuffed sheep and children carrying crooks and wearing angels’ wings, in a sanctuary with faces illuminated by candlelight, as “Silent Night” is sung, we find revelation, and we find God. And this is really what Epiphany is: a revelation, a revealing of God.

When we approach the Bible, we don’t always remember exactly what the text says. I’m tempted to pass out a quiz right now and have you answer a few questions about the passage we just read. How many magi were there? It doesn’t say. What were their names? I know --- all of those of you who have been in the Nativity here at Third Church can respond, “Gaspar, Melchior, and Balthasar.” That is a wonderful tradition about the biblical story, but there’s no such list of characters in this Bible. Were they kings? Were they wise men? The greek word is “magoi” or “magi.” If you listened carefully to the reading this morning, did the magi visit Mary and Jesus at the manger? No. In a stable? No. They found her at home is what the passage said.

We could pose the question about whether this particular text is historical. Some of the Bible is historical material, and some of it is quite accurate. But most of the Bible story is not about history or facts. It’s about truth and meaning. Here are some of the interesting historical pieces that we can connect with from this story in Matthew.

We do know that Jesus of Nazareth was born sometime --- and depending on the scholars you trust--- it’s about an eight-year window, from 4 B.C. to 4 A.D. But we don’t know exactly. Of course, our current calendar and way of understanding time wasn’t in existence then anyway.

We do know that there were two historical King Herods, and the one probably depicted in this story died shortly after Jesus’ birth. This Herod’s recorded death is one of the ways that scholars date the birth of Jesus.

This Herod had been put into power by Rome. Though he was Jewish, he was not well loved by the people of his own tradition and country, for he was known to be evil and corrupt, and he would even resort to injuring or killing those cabinet or family members who got in the way of his success. In this Biblical story--and in the ears of those who would have heard the Gospel in the first few centuries- Herod the person, the man, was a real historical character—and he represented the kingdom of the day, the Roman Empire.

Now, the magi, we understand, were priestly sages from Persia. They were experts in astrology and the interpretation of dreams. We don’t know about these particular magi, but we do know that there were people, known as magi, who had that role and that function. Note that they were not steeped in Jewish tradition, yet they were among the first to acknowledge Jesus as the messiah.

Now, what about that star? The story about the star over Bethlehem is so familiar to us. This story is true and has meaning for us. This we know.

But dare we ask if there is any scientific evidence that there actually was a star over Bethlehem? There’s a great discussion (and you can “Google” it if you want) about some astronomical events that actually may have had some connection with our Star of Bethlehem and I’d like to share some of that discussion with you.1

We often refer to objects in the sky as “stars.” Sometimes, the shapes we see in the night sky are actually planets. Planetary conjunctions are fairly common in astronomy. The star as described in Matthew’s gospel was apparently a “newly appeared” object. Its appearance caught their attention. It wasn’t necessarily bright (though many of our carols assert that it was). The story doesn’t tell us it was a glowing star that lit up the night sky so that everyone could see it. It tells us that the magi (trained astrologers) perceived it. Apparently it appeared twice to them: first as they went to Jerusalem, and again as they left Jerusalem for Bethlehem.

With these observations about the star in Matthew’s gospel, it’s interesting to note that between 3 B.C. and 2 A.D. there were nine different major planetary conjunctions. All of those might have been changes in the “stars” that astrologists would have noted. There’s one that’s particularly fascinating. By today’s calendar, we’re able to trace it to August 12th in the year 3 B.C. On that date, there occurred a conjunction with Venus and Jupiter. Venus and Jupiter moved together into the constellation of Leo, also known as Regulus, the constellation associated with kings (and the tribal sign of Judah). To the Babylonians (and Persians), Jupiter was a king planet, and the name for the constellation, “Sharru” also means “the king.” In Babylon, Venus was named for Ishtar, the Babylonian goddess, associated with femininity. For the astrologers of many different languages, it was significant event for these planets to come together in that constellation!

It is also interesting to learn what happened about two months later, when Jupiter “moved into retrograde,” where it both passed out of and moved back into Regulus. Planets appear in retrograde—that is they appear to move forward and then backward and then forward again—when the Earth is moving faster than other planets out there. It’s the same illusion created when we’re driving down the highway and we pass another car and it appears to be moving backward. I found it fascinating that there were these real astrological events chronicled by modern scientists that happened just around the time of Jesus’ birth.

Now, we probably don’t question the historical accuracy of the star over Bethlehem. For many Christians, the star has become such an important part of the Christmas story and such a powerful symbol that it is truth for us. But what about people hearing the story for the first time in the first century, sometime after Jesus’ death? It’s possible that those who were telling or hearing this story about Jesus and the star of Bethlehem would have remembered about those strange planetary movements. Do you remember what we heard about the planets not long ago? Do you remember that the stars foretold the birth of a king of the tribe of Judah? Could it be that this Jesus was the one the stars foretold!?

What’s the meaning of this story of the magi’s journey to Bethlehem for us today? We’ve talked a little bit about the historical context, but what’s really important for us is what the story means to us. Somewhere between fact and story we find truth. Somewhere between experience and reflection, we find meaning.

Rod read for us Psalm 72, a psalm that was traditionally read at the coronation of the kings of Israel. This Psalm lifts up a vision of a righteous and just ruler and the resulting kingdom: “judge the people with integrity and the poor with justice… defend the cause of the poor. . . give deliverance to the needy. . .righteousness flourish and peace abound. . .” The poor and those who have no helper would have the king as their helper and advocate, and the king would have “pity on the weak” and save the lives of those in oppression, and deliver them from violence and hold each life precious in his sight. This is the kind of a king that the people of Israel hoped for.

The magi have a critical role in this story, for they are clearly guided by God. First, God guides them on their long journey by means of the star. Then, God guides them through the biblical prophet Micah as Herod’s advisors tell them where to look for the new king, “Go to Bethlehem, for that’s where the king of the Jews will be born.” Finally, they are guided by God through a dream that warns them not to return to Herod after finding Jesus. So, here they are: strangers. Outsiders. Yet they are people with a purpose, guided by God. And these outsiders came totally prepared for the situation. They brought gifts fit for a king. Fulfilling the biblical promise that we can read in Isaiah, they even brought “gold” and “frankincense.” They engage in a sincere and persistent search for the messiah of the Jews, and when they find him, they worship him. Thus, the arrival of strangers from a foreign land turns out to be a part of God’s revelation and plan.

This really is a story about kings. Not three wise-men-kings, and not Herod the king. This story is about Christ the king and about God, the true Sovereign, who is revealed through Christ. This story is a revelation of God’s purposes being worked out in human history.

When we talk about God’s reign, we want to be clear about the values our Sovereign holds dear. We find those values revealed in Jesus’ life and work:2 egalitarian, instead of hierarchical; all about inclusion, instead of exclusion; mutuality and shared responsibility, instead of patriarchy; healing and relief, instead of sickness and depression; food and plenty, instead of want and hunger; mercy, instead of intimidating violence; welcoming the marginal, rather than focusing on what’s already at the center; and the love that is about inclusion, rather than privilege.

The kingdom of Jesus’ day was the Roman Empire and Christ came to expose what was (and is) corrupt and misleading about kingdoms and empires. We celebrate this child: born lowly in a manger, this innocent God, Emmanuel, who came to teach us about love and justice, compassion, grace, truth, and peace. This Christ has a radical message to teach us about the reign of God, and true sovereignty.

But we humans have a love affair with institutions and power. We are seduced by promises of an easier life, a faster machine, a more powerful weapon. We are prone to forgetfulness. We forget lessons that generations before us have learned and tried to pass down. We still build towers of Babel. We still fashion and worship golden calves. And we still put our trust in ourselves or in kings or princes or generals or presidents. And children still go to sleep hungry. Violence casts fear over our city streets. And people struggle to survive without adequate shelter, food, or health care.

Christ came to expose those systems --- economic, political, social, and, yes, even religious --- that benefit from positions of power while allowing harm to come to the least of these that God loves. The gospel is all about exposing false empires and introducing us to God’s way of being in the world.

I confess, I get a little bit uncomfortable with the irony of the Christmas story and the way we proclaim it, even in our hymns and even in the gospel of Matthew. Our proclamation of the gospel message is limited by human language and understanding, and we emphasize King Jesus. As one scholar, Warren Carter, has written:3 “The alternative to Rome’s rule is framed in imperial terms. Salvation seems to comprise membership in a people that embodies and anticipates and celebrates the establishment of God’s sovereignty through the destruction of oppressive powers.” We must be very careful not to assert that God’s kingdom will be imposed by violent means. “That would make God nothing other than a copy of any empire.”4

Many of our hymns assert that the world must become Christian, but I don’t believe it’s correct to claim that only followers of Jesus are concerned with a just world. (The magi, after all, knew what it was all about.) There are many people of many faiths who are doing justice and peace work in our world today. We don’t really want to limit God’s agency, do we?

We have to be careful when we use the language of kingdom and reign and empire in our Christmas proclamations, because the words may convey the opposite of what we mean about the reign of God. All the world understands the notion of a king, especially a bad king or a despot or a dictator. Many of the world’s rulers and even many of the world’s gods fit those images. But like the wise men, we are proclaiming the sovereignty of God and the lordship of Christ. This new way of being in relationship with God and with one another is not forged with swords or crowns, but through Christ’s life and teaching. This is an entirely new way of being --- God’s way of being.

On a starry night, we can encounter the Creator, the One who put the whole Jesus story in motion, the One whose purposes are being worked out in creation, the One whose very life and death and resurrection is the story of our salvation. And this, friends, is the story we know to be true.