Matthew 2:1-12 · The Visit of the Magi
Responding to Christ's Birth
Matthew 2:1-12
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Telling the story of Christ's birth was not enough for Matthew! He also told about two reactions to the birth of the Messiah.

The first reaction, as Matthew told it, was from the Magi who came from the East to Jerusalem and asked the question, "Where is the newborn king of the Jews?" Contemporary customs - children dressed in faded bathrobes, tired Christmas pageants, and unsightly stable scenes in church parking lots, have taken away from the wisdom of the Wise Men's story.

It is difficult to understand what Matthew meant by Magi. They might have been Zoroastrian priests who had special power to interpret dreams. Or, they could have been men who practiced various forms of secret love and magic. In the Old Testament, they were referred to as enchanters, astronomers, and interpreters of dreams and of visionary messages. In early first-century Rome, they were known as astrologers, magicians, and readers of dreams. In Acts 8:9-24, Luke tells the story of Simon, a magus and false prophet on the island of Cyprus. Therefore, the term magi refers to a large number of people engaged in occult arts. It covers a wide range of astronomers, fortune-tellers, priestly augurs, and wandering magicians. Since Matthew depicted the Magi as having seen a star, it is highly possible that they were astrologers from beyond Palestine.

In the Old Testament the "people of the East" were also desert Arabs. These nomadic Arabs often had wise men as a natural part of their envoy. Proverbs 30:1, Proverbs 31:1, and 1 Kings 5:12 refer to the wisdom that was commonly associated with these wise men. Likewise, astrology was not unknown to the Arabs. Arabian tribes often took their names from the stars. In addition, gold, frankincense, and myrrh were gifts that eastern Arabs would use to express their feelings.

According to Matthew, these Arab astrologers reacted to the birth of Jesus by following a star to the city of Jerusalem, a scant five miles from the hill town of Bethlehem. After inquiring about the birthplace of Jesus, they followed the star to Bethlehem where they found the child and Mary, his mother. Having found the infant, they bowed down and paid him homage. Then they opened their treasure boxes and brought out gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

For centuries, people have speculated about the meaning of these gifts. In each special gift, there is rich symbolism and deep meaning, for in each, one sees the wisdom of the Magi. Thankfully, the Arab astrologers did not bring the child a toy, a silver spoon, or a teething ring. Nor did they bring a cute little outfit for his circumcision. Nor did they bring clothing or flowers for his mother. Instead, they brought gifts that expressed their hope for the Christ child.

One of the treasure boxes contained gold, the king of metals, because the Wise Men wanted Jesus to be the "King of Kings." An ancient writer Seneca said that one should never approach a king without the gift of gold. So the gift of gold was presented because the astrologers wanted Bethlehem's babe to become the Lord of life.

Jesus' life, as we know, did not unfold like many had expected. In fact, Jesus was a complete reversal of what the world had expected from its kings. He ruled not with power, but with love. Self-surrender and service were his methods. He became the friend of hated tax collectors, flagrant sinners, the forgotten poor, and the misunderstood outcast. The gift of gold should serve as a constant reminder to us that we have been identified by God whose power is rooted in love and self-surrender.

Frankincense, an aromatic gum resin used for incense by priests, was brought as the second gift. There is the possibility that these traveling Wise Men wanted the baby to become a priest. The chief role of a priest is to build bridges between God and people. The Wise Men wanted the Son of God to be the bridge which would connect God to all people and all people to each other.

The New Testament speaks about Jesus as one who spent his life building bridges, not barriers. Those who are marked as his followers are also called to be priests and to build bridges for each other. The church, by its very essence, is called to build bridges, between black and white, the rich and poor, the Western centers of power and the Third World, the "haves" and the "have nots" - wherever separations appear in the life of humanity. The church that does not bring people together in community is simply not a church of Jesus Christ. The will of God is done when people are fashioned into communities of mutual love and respect.

The third gift box contained myrrh, used in the ancient world to embalm the dead. It is a symbol of suffering. These Gentile astrologers wanted their Messiah to be the kind of Lord who would suffer for his people. They did not want a Christ who would dodge a cross, would be protected from the hurts of humanity, or would fail to identify with the lonely and alienated. They wanted a Saviour who would suffer for and would take upon himself the sufferings of humanity.

According to the Gospels, Jesus lived up to the suffering symbolized by myrrh through the glory of his passion, death, and resurrection. The real church, the genuine community of believers, exists wherever and whenever people of faith enter into the sufferings of humanity as Jesus did.

These gifts could also be symbols relating to the different aspects of the Christian response to the Messiah's birth: gold symbolizes virtue, frankincense symbolizes prayer, and myrrh symbolizes suffering.

Believers do not respond to the birth of the Christ child in a vacuum, nor do they respond with an overdose of ceremony, with empty words, or with false deeds. Most Christians react to Christ's birth by displaying a life full of good deeds. "By this my Father is glorified," said Jesus, "that you bear much fruit." (John 15:8) Not to bear good fruit is to be distant from the spirit of the living Christ. Good deeds are indeed the gold of Christian life.

Nor can Christians be fed for their journey without prayer. Prayer is that resource which helps us to practice the presence of Christ in every relationship of our lives. Rufus M. Jones, in The Double Search, puts it this way:

It is a primary truth of Christianity that God reaches us directly. No person is insulated. As oceans flood the inlets, as sunlight environs the plant, so God enfolds and enwreathes the finite spirit. There is this difference, however, inlet and plant are penetrated whether they will or not. Sea and sunshine crowd themselves in a tergo. Not so with God. He can be received only through doors that are purposely opened for him. A person may live as near God as the bubble is to the ocean and yet not find him. He may be "closer than breathing, nearer than hands or feet," and still be missed. Historically Christianity is dry and formal when it lacks the immediate and inward response to our Great Companion; but our spirits are trained to know him, to appreciate him, by the mediation of historical revelation. A person's spiritual life is always dwarfed when cut away from history. Mysticism is empty unless it is enriched by outward and historical revelation. The supreme education of the soul comes through an intimate acquaintance with the Jesus Christ of history.

Likewise, the symbol of myrrh continues to call Christians to live a life of passion. Today it appears that passion for life itself is disappearing. Many fear that the world will end in atomic death. Others expect ecological death. It seems that we will come to ruin long before that by means of our own apathy. Too many of us have gotten used to life. As we have become accustomed to crime in our large cities, so we have become accustomed to the threat of death through nuclear weapons and through the destruction of our environment. We have become accustomed to death even before it comes. Why? Because when the passionate devotion to life is missing, the powers to resist evil are paralyzed. Therefore, it we want to live today, we must consciously will life. We must learn to love life with such a passion that we no longer become accustomed to the powers of destruction. We must overcome our own apathy and be seized by the passion for life.

To follow as a disciple means to share in both the joy and the suffering of humanity. Christ's people are concerned about the joy and the hurt of life, but neither one to the exclusion of the other. Good news and passion are linked together in this faith. There can be no Gospel without passion. As we travel in "The Way", we gradually understand that the Gospel, as symbolized by myrrh, must have passion as well as success.

Matthew wanted to convey that some reacted to the birth of Jesus with acceptance and devotion. He did this by showing that the first to pay homage to the newborn King of the Jews were Gentiles from the East. In these Magi, Matthew anticipated all of those who would respond to Christ's birth by paying homage.

Woven into this touching story of the Magi's devotion is the parable of Herod's reaction to the birth of the King of the Jews. Herod responded to the birth not by paying homage, but by plotting to kill the child. Therein lies a paradox: Herod, the chief priests, and the scribes - people who have read the Scriptures and could plainly see what the prophets have said - were not willing to worship the newborn king. Thus, we have a two-fold reaction to the birth of Christ. The Wise Men of the Gentiles accepted and paid homage, but the ruler of Jerusalem and all the chief priests and scribes of the people do not believe. Rather, they conspired against the King of the Jews and sought his death.

It is not difficult to understand why Herod responded as he did. His kingdom was threatened by the possibility of a new king. The possibility of being displaced did not bring him great joy. Instead, it brought fear. If this child was truly the Messiah, it would alter all that Herod believed to be important.

In The Gospel in Solentiname, Ernesto Cardenal reports that after reading Matthew 2, a Nicaraguan farm worker responded by saying: "I think these wise men [fouled] things up when they went to Herod asking about a liberator. It would be like someone going to Somoza now to ask him where's the man who is going to liberate Nicaragua."

Whenever and wherever the message of Christ is taken into the world, there is the possibility that it will be met with rejection.

I was a pastor in Memphis, Tennessee, when Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., was shot while he stood on the balcony of a downtown motel. I learned of the shooting when our black custodian interrupted the Finance Committee meeting by shouting, "Dr. King has been shot! Dr. King has been shot!" The next morning's issue of The Commerical Appeal, our local newspaper, urgently called the clergy of the city to a meeting.

Pastors representing every racial, cultural, and educational group in the city gathered for the mass meeting which had been called for by the bold headlines of the city newspaper. The Reverend James Lawson, a friend of Dr. King's and an effective pastor in South Memphis, read the Old Testament lesson. The local Greek Orthodox priest read from the New Testament and symbolically kissed the feet of Mr. Lawson. The Reverend Frank McRae, a courageous leader in the United Methodist Church, spoke about hope in the midst of despair.

After a time of Bible study, prayer, and speaking, the clergy decided to march en masse to the office of Mayor Henry Loeb, as a symbol of love and reconciliation. We wanted the Mayor to reconsider his opposition to the striking sanitation workers as a symbol of repentance and love.

After leaving the sanctuary, we formed ourselves in lines, two abreast, and started walking toward the City Hall. Just before we had completed one block of our march, a young deacon from St. Mary's ran back into the church and brought out the processional cross commonly used on Sunday morning for the worship service. With humility and yet boldness, he put himself at the head of the processional, now aimed at the city's seat of power. As we walked, television cameras descended upon us. Reporters from New York to California started pumping us with questions about our motives and about how we felt about what had happened the night before.

When our journey was about half completed, an older woman started yelling from a second floor apartment window. Because of the traffic, the cameras, and the reporters, her speech was at first inaudible. As I drew closer to her flower-box window, I could hear the anger of her shrill voice: "The cross belongs in the church! The cross belongs in the church! I am a member of St. Mary's. Take the cross back to the church where it belongs." Her secure kingdom, like Herod's, had been threatened; and, she responded not with homage, but with rejection.

The message of Jesus often brings peace, but it also brings trouble. Even in our contemporary society, Christ's message of love, justice, and peace invades our kingdoms of selfishness, pride, power, injustice, and provincialism. The Herods continue to stalk the world and try to discover ways to silence the message. In our modern world, there are evil forces which tirelessly attempt to silence the message of Christ.

Those who have responded to the revelation of God in Christ instinctively know that rejection is possible. As H. Richard Niebuhr notes in The Meaning of Revelation:

When we speak of revelation ... we mean rather that something has happened which compels our faith and which requires us to seek rationality and unity in the whole of our history. Revelation is like the Kingdom of God not only by its immediate worth but also by its instrumental value in leading to secondary goods, and revelation proves itself to be revelation of reality not only by its intrinsic verity, but also by its ability to guide people to many other truths.

Disciples of Jesus, having been led to "many other truths," can expect both affirmation and rejection.

Therefore, there are two reactions to the appearance of the Messiah: homage and rejection. It is too easy and clean to say that some respond by giving, as did the Magi, while others react by opposing the meaning of Christ's birth, as did Herod. Not one person reading these words is entirely like the Magi. Nor is he or she exactly like Herod. We are, at best, a mixture of devotion and denial. We are neither one nor the other, but an uneasy mixture of both.

Many country music artists understand the dual nature that exists within humankind. While on stage, the country musician can sing about sex, lust, cheating, gambling, and unfaithfulness and, then, close the program by singing "Amazing Grace". The contradiction is shockingly apparent, but so typical of how we really are.

What happens on the country music stage is a microcosm of what much of our lives are like. For six days every week, we live sinful, broken lives and then sing the hymns of faith with great feeling on the following Sunday morning. In spite of the hell we have created or have been through, we flock to Christmas Eve services with faith welling up within us. In spite of the alienation and despair we either cause or experience, we insist upon attaching ourselves to the community of believers.

Frederick Buechner says in Telling The Truth:

Joy happens, to use Tolkien's word, and the fairy tale where it happens is not a world where everything is sweetness and light. It is not Disney Land where everything is kept spotless ... On the contrary, the world where this joy happens is as full of darkness as our own world, and that is why when it happens it is as poignant as grief and can bring tears to our eyes. It can bring tears to our eyes because it might so easily not have happened.

Today marks the first Sunday after Christmas, often the most undervalued celebration of the Christian year. It is this day that proclaims the purpose of the Incarnation: the manifestation of God through Christ to the world. As Chrysotorn preached in A.D. 386, "Up to this day he [Jesus] was unknown to the multitudes." In this season of manifestation, we are drawn to understand God as revealed to both the Herods and the Gentile Arab astrologers. The revelation of God is up to God, not us. But, one of the things that makes this such a day of unbridled celebration is precisely the nature of God. It is God's nature to come to us, to search us out, to meet us on the journey, and to make himself known to us. It is God's nature not to be known by a few people, but by the multitudes. God yearns to be known. God is an encountering God, and that is the reason the Wise Men found Jesus. They responded, and they were led where they were beckoned. They were willing to look for the king in unlikely places. What they found was a surprise. Expecting to find the future king, they encountered a living God.

Having experienced the living God, they returned home by a different route. If we have really experienced God during these days of Christmas, then we will return home as different people who travel by a different way.

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