Past Sermon

Sermon Title: "We Have Seen the Light"
Date: January 7, 2007
Minister: Rev. Charles E. Ensley, Jr.

Lesson:  Matthew 2:1-12

I have not yet had an opportunity to see the movie “The Nativity,” the subject of which we have spent the past several weeks examining in scripture and pondering spiritually.  I do know the director of the film commented on including the wise men at the stable at the time of Jesus’ birth, saying he knew it was not historically proper, but if he didn’t place them there, everyone coming out of the theater would be saying, “Where were the wise men?”

As indicated by Katy while reading Matthew’s account, they are heard of only here and never again.  It is impossible to harmonize the birth account of Jesus as found in Luke with that found in Matthew; the latter describing the birth in exactly these two verses, one sentence, just before the story of the wise men:  “When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took Mary as his wife, but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus.”  (1:24-25)  No donkey trip from Nazareth to Bethlehem, no stable birth, no singing angels, no shepherds.  Just the visit of the wise men which followed.

The word magi can also be translated “wise men,” “astrologers,” “magician” or “sorcerer.”  The word has nothing to do with “kings,” but designates a priestly class from Persia or Babylonia (present day Iran and Iraq)—experts in the occult, such as astrology and the interpretation of dreams.  They represent pagans (Gentiles) who have come to Jerusalem following the light of the star they have seen.  Over the centuries, attempts have been made to relate the star to natural phenomena—comets, or the conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn.  But Matthew is clearly describing a miraculous phenomenon directed behind the scenes by God, for the star remains stationary over the wise men while in Jerusalem, then leads them not only to Bethlehem, but to the precise location of Jesus, where it “stood still” to mark the designated spot.

Nine years ago, when the nativity triptych was painted and hung in Gabrielson Chapel next door, I said to the artist, Anne Emigh, I could almost imagine where Jesus was born.  She asked me where, and I pointed to a domed structure I took to be an inn.  The next time I saw the painting, there were radiant beams of light emanating from that very building.

That is what Epiphany is about, the manifestation of the light Christ brings to the world, not only to us who already believe, but also to those who have not yet come to know Christ’s light.

Faith can pick up divine light in times of deep darkness, and this was as true in the first century as it is today.  There wasn’t much brightness in Judea in the time of King Herod when Jesus was born in Bethlehem.  In fact, Herod’s reign was an absolute orgy of violence and bloodshed.  Full of insecurity, Herod ordered the killing of his brother-in-law, his uncle, and then his wife.  Fearing loss of power, he went on to execute his mother-in-law and three of his sons.  At one point, Caesar Augustus remarked that he would rather be Herod’s pig than Herod’s son!  And this list of murders doesn’t even include the purported massacre of all the first-born infant boys in Bethlehem.  No matter how nicely Katy read Herod’s directive to the wise men—“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.”—there was something very sinister about his motives.  Dark days indeed.

But through the darkness, there were some who kept their focus on the light.  Wise men from the East—number, names, origins unknown—came looking for Jesus, and after working their way around Herod, they found the baby in a house with Mary his mother.  They offered him wonderful gifts, fulfilling the six-century-old prophecy of Isaiah that they “shall bring gold and frankincense, and shall proclaim the praise of the Lord.” (60:6)  The men were the kings that the prophet said would come to the brightness of his dawn. (60:3) 

These wise men had eyes of faith.  Gentiles—not Jews or believers in the promise of the Torah—they could see a faint flicker of light in the middle of darkness, a light that signaled the presence of God’s Son, Jesus Christ.

Those of you who were here last Sunday heard me tell as we relit the Christ candle that at one of the Christmas Eve services, I was so effective in telling the worshippers that they should take the light of Christ with them into the rest of the night, the coming Christmas Day, and all the days to follow, that dozens of people were heading out the narthex doors with these candles in hand!  I had to be careful how I phrased that charge at subsequent services.  We need these candleholders next December!

My question to you is, are you carrying the Christ light ahead with you into all the days of 2007 stretching before us?  Or did you leave it in the box in the narthex with your discarded candleholder on Christmas Eve?

The way I see it, we have at least two challenges before us:  The first is to focus on this light we have seen and experienced, and to trust that Christ is always present—even, or especially, in times of crisis and chaos.  It is no wonder that we might utter, as I have in a car accident in a snowstorm three decades ago, “Oh God, please help me!” 

Eight or so years ago there was a widespread slogan:  WWJD—What would Jesus do?  That is helpful for us to ponder as we make personal decisions, but what of great events on a far larger stage?  We live in a far more complex world than existed in Judea in the first century.  What would Jesus do about deadly conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan?  What would Jesus do about the threat of nuclear armament from Iran, or China, or North Korea?  What would Jesus do about continued genocide in the Darfur region of Sudan?  What would Jesus do about the continued conflict between Israelis and Palestinians, in the very land on which Jesus walked?  What would Jesus do about murders, many gang related, right here within the 49 square miles of Long Beach?

We are troubled by all these issues, but there is so little we feel capable of doing to affect their outcome.  Yet do we believe that Christ is somehow at work in the workings of mankind, even in non-Christian settings, to make them better?

Although darkness shall cover the earth, promises Isaiah, “the Lord will arise upon you, and his glory will appear over you.” (60:2)

The second challenge is a more personal one, much closer to home, for it affects you, and me.  Do others see the light of Christ reflected in our lives, in our faces, in our words, in our actions?  “And they’ll know we are Christians by our love, by our love, yes, they’ll know we are Christians by our love” goes the song refrain from the mid-‘60s.  Will they?  Do we treat others with the compassion, the equality, the justice, the respect Jesus accorded even to persons from different cultural or religious backgrounds from his own?

No matter our situation, there is always some light to be found.  Even a shadow is filled with light reflected from the sky.  Even in our shadow times—our times of disappointment, failure, temptation and tension—God is going to bounce some of Christ’s light into our darkness.

If we are willing to search for the light of Christ in times of deep darkness, we fill find it.

If we look hard for the light of Christ in situations of chaos and confusion, we will discover it there.

If we train our eyes on the small glimmers of light that appear in our shadow times, we will be led forth from the darkness that threatens to overwhelm us.

After all, if we have seen the light, we know what we’re looking for once again.