All the Wrong People

Scripture

Luke 1:46-55

And Mary said,

“My soul magnifies the Lord,
    and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked with favor on the lowly state of his servant.
    Surely from now on all generations will call me blessed,
for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
    holy is his name;
indeed, his mercy is for those who fear him
    from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
    God has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones
    and lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things
    and sent the rich away empty.
He has come to the aid of his child Israel,
    in remembrance of his mercy,
according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
    to Abraham and to his descendants forever.”

Matthew 2:1-12

In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, magi from the east came to Jerusalem, asking, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star in the east and have come to pay him homage.” When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him, and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. They told him, “In Bethlehem of Judea, for so it has been written by the prophet:

‘And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,
    are by no means least among the rulers of Judah,
for from you shall come a ruler
    who is to shepherd my people Israel.’”

Then Herod secretly called for the magi and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, “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.” When they had heard the king, they set out, and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen in the east, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.

Sermon

In Advent, Christmastide, and the weeks surrounding us, you might have noticed a rhythm to our Scripture readings. One of the readings, usually the latter one, is often a Gospel lesson that narrates the epic of Christ’s coming and birth. And the other reading, often the first one, is often a piece of prophecy or poetry, some sort of reading from the Hebrew Bible that foreshadows the New Testament.

Today, some of you may have noticed that we read two Gospel lessons, one from Luke, and one from Matthew. That’s no mistake.

Our first reading, sometimes called ”Mary’s Song” or the Magnificat, might be appreciated as more than a prayer of thanksgiving. The Magnificat does more than celebrate God’s deliverance. It is prophetic word that preambles prophetic deed; a prelude to angels filling the skies, all of creation singing out, and the life of Jesus that forever turned the world upside down.

And on this day of Epiphany, when we celebrate the star illuminating the way to Jesus—and the magi discerning truth in the midst of lies and falsity and manipulation—these things are also a sign of Mary’s prophetic word. The magi are another testimony that God is good for the money, so to speak, and that God doesn’t write checks of grace that bounce, or forge hope that’s not backed by action.

Mary professes that wherever God is, things are turned upside down. She proclaims that the powerful, regardless if they are benevolent or not, had better shake in their boots. The rich, no matter how financially secure they are, had better not get too comfortable. The hungry? Fed. The lowly? Lifted up. Wherever God is, weird stuff starts happening. As one hymn writer paraphrased the Magnificat, “The fires of God’s justice burn… for the world is about to turn.” When God shows up, neighborhoods change, connections are formed, and people start doing things differently.

And here it is, happening in the earliest days of Christ’s incarnation. The magi: giving up their wealth lavishly. Herod: powerful yet disregarded. Jesus: an impoverished child, lifted up as king. It seems that the prophetic word of Mary didn’t need much time to buffer. It’s already here.

“Wherever God is, weird stuff starts happening.”

Mary got it right in a lot of ways; the protagonists of the Epiphany story are all the wrong people. We get a few important details about them: they are from “the east;” they perceive Christ to be “the king of the Jews;” they intensely study the stars, especially the star of Epiphany; they possess wealth that is exorbitant.

Two-thousand-odd years later, we still don’t know where they are from. The most likely culprits are Arabia, Babylon, or Persia, the latter being the most likely. But we do know a little bit about “magi” in a broader sense, because they are mentioned elsewhere in the Bible. In the Hebrew Bible, the book of Numbers mentions a magus named Balaam, who an evil king solicits to curse the Hebrew people. In Acts, Paul condemns a magus for leading others astray, even calling that man a “son of the devil!”

That being said, I don’t want to take away from the fun and joy of today. The point is this: for the Gospel writers and the early Church, magi were not exactly the most reputable characters. They weren’t exactly bastions of moral insight. They were the wrong people for an encounter with incarnate God. In fact, we might say they represented far more than their soothsaying and stargazing; they represented the very culmination of the Gentile world. These magi contained the whole of Gentile wisdom and efforts to understand the world; they were as un-Jewish as you could get. They were to the Jewish world what Phillies fans are to Mets fans.

Not only are these magi the wrong people to meet the Christ child, they are also looking in the wrong places. In verse 2, they have to ask where Jesus is. “Where is the child, who is king of the Jews?” As the text alludes, the Judeans had an answer ready to go, a roadmap right in front of their faces. But the magi didn’t look in Scripture or its prophesies; they looked upward at the heavens, using their Gentile wisdom and brains to try and piece together something coherent.

These magi were the wrong people, looking in all the wrong places.

And yet, here they are in our Bibles. 

These wrong people, in the wrong places, were woven into the story of redemption, the people God chose to meet at the front door of life. They are the most faithful characters throughout this passage. Religious leaders failed to recognize the birth of Christ; Herod sought to use his power to destroy others. And yet, the magi were the ones who recognized God’s presence, and who willingly gave their power and wealth to Christ.

Mary had it right. The world was starting to turn upside down. When everything from politics to money to housing to religion felt precarious, God was showing up on the scene, ready to be with humanity in the midst of it all.

“These wrong people, in the wrong places, were woven into the story of redemption, the people God chose to meet at the front door of life.”

As I’ve been preaching, and you’ve heard about these magi, your brain might have tried making a few connections. A type of person might have flashed in your mind’s eye, someone who is unwanted or welcomed, because they are the “wrong” person. I promise, I don’t have someone in mind, and I’m not trying to put that in your brain.

But if your mind or heart has wandered a little bit, or instinctively flashed an image of some sort of person, pay attention to that. Don’t forget who or what it is.

…

So… what did the magi do right? They managed to go from less-than-holy characters to the foot of Jesus. How did that happen?

I don’t know exactly. But what I do know is this: part of what makes the magi so mysterious, so alluring, is their silence. They only speak a single time, in verse 2, and they do so to ask a question. From then on, not a single word is uttered.

Though we equate silence with passivity, that doesn’t seem to be the case with these magi. They listen, and they contemplate deeply—so deeply, that a star and infant cried to them in the darkness of night, drawing them from across the continents. These magi listened to creation, watching the stars and planets move around; they determined patterns and movements, fixed in the skies by our Creator. These magi listened to the wisdom of others, the ancient prophecies of Christ that others may have found foolish or deluded. These magi listened to their intuition, leading them away from Herod’s deception and his manipulation. These magi are people who listened. And after they listened, they contemplated. And only then—after they contemplated—they acted with conviction and courage.

These magi followed the truth, even when it led them away from home. They asked questions of others, even when it showed that their knowledge was running dry. They kept their gaze fixed on what truly matters - God’s voice to them and this world, and they refused to be sidetracked by political power or worldly ambition.

It turns out, those who the religious rulers derided were not only witnesses to the incarnation, but preachers of the good news, both then, and two millennium later to us. God fashioned the sacred out of the supposedly wrong people, like magi, and first appeared in supposedly wrong places like Bethlehem.

I wonder if, like the religious rulers of Jesus’ day, we might be missing the good news, simply because it showed up in the supposedly “wrong” people. Or because it showed up in the supposedly “wrong” places.

If there’s been a person or a type of person flashing through your mind, we’ve got some good, hard news. That person, or type of person, might be where God speaks to you. It might not be coming out of their mouths, but God might show up, if we just linger a little longer, open our hearts a little wider, and listen a little closer.

Whether it’s a stranger waking up on a bench outdoors, or someone in your family you can’t stand, or a political group across the aisle, there might be a wayfinder or two nestled in their journey. They might be witnessing to something you didn’t notice – some piece of good news, shining brightly, proclaiming the hope of Christ.

When we see that person who looks unlike us in every way, who we might avert our eyes from, the challenge is to listen deeper. We get curious about the supposedly “wrong people,” and start forming relationships with them, because the incarnate God is quite possibly closer than we think.

“God fashioned the sacred out of the supposedly wrong people, like magi, and first appeared in supposedly wrong places like Bethlehem.”

In just a little while, we will gather at the table to celebrate the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper. Though a few weeks after Christmas, it might seem funny to celebrate Communion–the body and blood broken and poured out–it’s also important that we do.

At this table, all are welcome. People come from no “wrong” places. And there are no “wrong” people. Christ came for every person, great and small, and in his incarnation, wove Mary’s prophetic word, and the magi’s long journey, into a real, tangible existence among us. Here, there are people of every stripe, every kind  Jesus continues to light the way ahead every time we gather at the table and partake with one another.

Mary said the world was “about to turn,” where all people are confronted by God’s love and justice. Mary said that everything would be different, and relationships would be changed. This table is where the poor are served by the rich, and the mighty are humbled by the lowly. This is where we look into each other’s eyes, even when it’s uncomfortable and awkward and the person across from us could not be more different. 

This is where we start wandering with the magi. When we partake of bread and wine, we contemplate the great mystery of our faith. We sit in the real and special presence of Jesus, who joins us at the table. We wander as we walk the way of Christ, knowing that the path set before us is full of twists and turns, and hope and heartache.

But rest assured, at this table and in the Church of our Lord, Jesus Christ, there are no wrong people. And the world is about to turn.

Sources

Davies, W. D. , and Dale C. Allison, JR.. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel According to Saint Matthew: Introduction and Commentary on Matthew I-VII. International Critical Commentary. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1988. http://dx.doi.org/10.5040/9781472556240.