“Follow, Follow”
January 5, 2025
Rev. Rebecca Migliore
* Contrary to popular belief, it is still Christmas time—at least in the church. The twelve days of Christmas don’t end until Epiphany (January 6th)—the traditional day that we celebrate the Wise Ones, the Magi, (the “kings”) of our carol, showing up at the manger. And since we don’t always get the opportunity to celebrate Epiphany together, I thought we would spend some time thinking about what we might take from the story of the Ones from the East who came seeking a child.
* But first, a story about Christmas in our world. (I heard about this story from my brother, who got to hear Senior Pastor and Senator Raphael Warnack at Ebenezer Baptist Church in Atlanta, Georgia last Sunday). Any distortions to the story are mine.
* There was a little boy who showed up at the dinner table several weeks before Christmas with a very long list for Santa. He was proudly reading his list to his mother, when she said, “I think you ought to be writing to Jesus.” “Why?” asked the little boy. “Because if you want any of those things on your Santa list, you had better get right with Jesus.” And just in case he didn’t understand her meaning, she added, “You need to confess all the naughty things you have done this year, and ask for forgiveness.”
* So, after dinner, the little boy sulkily went up to his room, and started writing his letter to Jesus. “Dear Jesus, I know I haven’t been a very good boy this year…” and he balled up the paper and threw it across the room. “Dear Jesus, I remember from Sunday School that you want all the little boys and girls to come to you because we are close to the kingdom of God. So, about this year…” And he balled up that draft and tossed it away. He tried again, “Dear Jesus, What a year this has been, huh?…” and the little boy sighed. And he tapped his pencil on his desk as he thought about what he could say to Jesus.
* And then he had an idea. Quickly he snuck downstairs, grabbed his coat from the closet, and headed out to church. There on the lawn was a beautiful creche—Mary and Joseph, and the shepherds and sheep, and the Wise Ones, and the empty manger, waiting for Jesus. He looked around, and picked up the statue of Mary and carried her home. Back in his room, he grabbed another piece of paper and started, “Okay Jesus. I’ve got your Mother. If you want her back, you need to talk to Santa!”
* Sometimes we try to fit Jesus into the story that advertisers and retailers and maybe even our families have created around this time of year. We’re going to try not to fall into that trap. So let’s take a better look at the story Matthew is telling us--a story about a journey taken by a pregnant couple, and the journey taken by wise ones, Magi from the east—all ending in a small town called Bethlehem.
* I’m setting aside any conversation on whether these were “actual” kings, or whether there were three of them, or what year they might have arrived in Jesus’ land of birth. There is much speculation and conversation about all these minute details. All Matthew tells us is that some Wise Ones (Magi) from the east, show up, claiming they are following a star, and they have come to worship a newborn king.
* “O star of wonder, star of night, star with royal beauty bright, Westward leading, still proceeding, guide us to thy perfect light.” That star features prominently in most of our images of the manger scene. We put it on display in our sanctuaries and attach it to our outside creches. We link the light of the star, to the light talked about in the prophets, the light to the gentiles, the light to pierce the darkness. We give out star words, so we too might follow the star, like the wise ones. Except do you notice that not everyone saw the star? Not everyone, maybe almost no one, thought there was anything different about the sky during that time.
* We don’t have stories of people flocking to Bethlehem, trying to follow the star (as people did to try to see the eclipse last year). King Herod and his court seem to be oblivious to any heavenly announcement. No, the people who ended up at the manger in Matthew’s version of Jesus’ birth, were outsiders, foreigners, of a different religion, a different nationality, probably speaking a different language. But they had eyes to see the star, and the courage to get on the road to follow it.
* Often it is said that the gospel of Luke is the one that seems to portray Jesus’ ministry as having a focus to those outside the Jewish faith. But here we are in Matthew, and those who first recognize what God is doing in the world are not from Jesus’ neighborhood, or tribe, or even his religious people. They are true outsiders. But they are the ones who see the star.
* Do we keep our eyes open to faint glimmers in the heavens? Do we allow ourselves to listen to the voices of those who are not like us? Have we forgotten that God’s message shines bright for all to see? Do we miss our opportunity to follow the star, wherever it leads? Would we have the courage to “follow” like the wise ones, like the disciples of old who left their fishing boats and all the disciples since who have left their former lives to answer the call. “Follow, Follow. Rise up shepherd and follow. Follow the star to Bethlehem. Rise up shepherd and follow.”
* As we pick a star word today, will we allow it to help us wander and wonder over the next year? Will we let it bring us to unchartered territory, to unfamiliar places, to new experiences? Will we look for it in unusual encounters? Will we muse on its wisdom? Will we try to hear what God might be whispering to us?
* Now, even if one has the eyes to see, and the courage to follow, that doesn’t mean mistakes aren’t made along the way. We are human, after all. And our Magi make an enormous mistake. I guess it is understandable. You become convinced that you can read the heavens and a star appears announcing the birth of a new king.
You follow the star into the region of Judea, and, of course, you imagine that this new king must be the son of the present king. And so you go to the palace to pay homage.
* And discover that there is no recent child here. This mistake has catastrophic consequences. For our “wise ones” unintentionally put in motion a genocide of children as Herod tries to get rid of this “newborn king.” I wonder if those wise ones ever knew what they had brought about. How would you ever recover from such a thing? Maybe that is a truth almost too difficult to talk about—and why we rarely read the terrible account following today’s lesson. But it is truth nonetheless. There are those who will twist any action to try to make it helpful for themselves. We should know that this following of the star, this following of the way, this following of Jesus sets us in the path of dark empires and people who will do almost anything to stay in power. It’s interesting that Karl Marx famously said, “religion is the opiate of the masses.” I don’t think he was reading the same text. Because everywhere I turn, I see the story of Jesus, the story of God, pushing against power structures of the status quo (whether it be religious authorities or secular ones).
* Now I find it interesting that the wise ones weren’t tasked with confronting Herod, or trying to stop whatever he was going to do. No, they were warned in a dream not to participate in Herod’s scheme. Not to go back to tell him where the star had landed. Not to go back to Jerusalem at all. But to return home by another way. So, these wise ones saw the star, followed the star, brought gifts which they gave in homage to the little one, and then they went back where they came from.
* Did they go back, telling everyone what they had seen of God in our world? About a king born in a manger? About a new day dawning in a backwater country? And if there, why not everywhere? Are we looking for God in the wrong places? What might this story teach us about how to see people in our own world?
I wonder, was it a little less exciting on the way back, with no star to guide? Or had a little part of that star been embedded in their hearts and minds? Had God shone on them and changed them, the way Moses’ face shone after he had gone up on the mountain to talk with God? Don’t we want that too?
* Maybe we can acknowledge that there are many types of journeys when following the star? And that sometimes we stop listening once we get what we think are our marching orders? Do we stray from the path because we let ourselves get too caught up in the priorities and hierarchies not of God’s making? We can ask ourselves, would we have paid attention to a dream in the midst of our following, if we had been the Magi? Would we have had the courage to change course? Would we have been disappointed as we traveled home? Or would we have been energized to continue to listen, and to set out again, if need be, and to find our way of following God in our own place and time?
* In this next year: may we try to follow our own star, may we try to piece together God’s message in the heavens, may we have the courage to strike out on new paths, and may we try to forgive ourselves for mistakes we make along the way. And as we journey with others to places we do not yet imagine, let us remember to bring our gifts to the manger. Not many of us can bring gold or frankincense or myrrh. But the one born “in the bleak midwinter” amidst straw and lowly animals doesn’t care. Whatever gift we bring is as important. As Chistina Rossetti puts it in her carol “what I can I give him, give my heart.”
May it be so, Alleluia, Amen.
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