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So here we are. The new year.
Whenever we flip the calendar from December to January,
along with the Christmas tree and the decorations, we put
away the events of the year gone by. The beginning of each
new year seems ripe with so many possibilities, so many
opportunities to do something new, to try something new. The
new year seems to present to each of us the chance to get it
right, to lose weight or gain confidence. In these weeks,
millions of us will do something new: join a gym, sign up
for a class, make a promise, look for a new job, plan a
trip, start a diet, create a savings plan or search for a
new spiritual path. How do you prepare for the unfolding of
a new year?
I have a ritual that I engage in
every year about this time. You can count on it. In fact,
you can set your clock by it. It is like the swallows
returning to Capistrano or the march of the Arctic Penguins
to their breeding ground. It happens sometime between the
last days of the old year and the first days of the new one.
It begins with a journey. A pilgrimage, really. A sojourn of
sorts to one of the holiest places I know. The new year
cannot really begin until I have visited this place. Where
is the tabernacle to which my yearly journey takes me? Where
is the modern day temple that beckons me to return again and
again in the early days of the new year? The pilgrimage
takes me to the places named after the modern day saints:
Borders, Walden and Barnes and Noble. My spiritual journey
leads me to the bookstore. But before you think this is just
some ordinary stop to browse the shelves, my annual new
year’s journey to Borders or Barnes and Noble is part of a
sacred ritual.
Within moments of entering the
store, I find myself standing at the place where my new year
really begins. It is here that I begin the annual ritual of
selecting my new planner. Ah, the new planner. There is a
lot of choice that goes into the selection of the new
planner. Do I want something funny, say Dilbert or the Far
Side? Am I looking for something artsy like Georgia O’Keefe
murals or something inspirational with a daily quote? Do I
want the one where I can see the whole week at a glance or
one that focuses on each day? After much deliberation, I
make my choice. Then I return to my office and hold it—my
new planner—and just flip the pages. There is nothing quite
like looking at a brand new planner, for a brand new year.
All of the pages empty, waiting to be filled with the
activities and meetings, the people and places that will
make this new year what it will be. All of the empty pages,
waiting to give some sort of direction to the 525,600
minutes that make each year. Just staring at the blank pages
points me to all of the different ways this next year will
go, all of the different directions this next year might
take.
New year. New directions. New
possibilities. New opportunities. There is always something
about a new year that has so many of us thinking about
“enhancing” our performance. We are looking for something to
get us pumped up physically, emotionally, mentally or
spiritually. Where will we go to find our “performance
enhancements”? Where will we turn to find the direction our
lives should take this new year? Will we find what we are
looking for at the gym? Will we find our direction from
Atkins or South Beach or Weight Watchers? Will the path be
made clearer on Match.com or eHarmony? Will signal lights of
this new year point us to a new boat or new car or new
vacation? Will the key to an enhanced performance be made
available through the dozens of credit card solicitations
that will find themselves in our daily mail? Where will the
direction for our new year come?
As people of faith, one of the
places we can always turn for a sense of direction is to our
story. We are the people of the story, after all, and when
in doubt, we can always look here to get pointed in the
right direction. Tonight our story takes us to the day the
Christian calendar has dubbed the “Epiphany.” Epiphany: the
day of illumination, the day of insight, the day of being
able to see more clearly who we are, whose we are and what
direction we are headed. And year in and year out, when we
turn our calendars from December to January, when the
Christian year takes us to the day called Epiphany, our
story takes us to the opening pages of Matthew’s gospel:
After Jesus was born in
Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi from
the east came to Jerusalem and asked, “Where is the one who
has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star in the east
and have come to worship him.”
When King Herod heard this, he
was disturbed and all Jerusalem with him. When he had called
together all the people’s chief priests and teachers of the
law, he asked them where Christ was to be born. “In
Bethlehem in Judea,” they replied, “for this is what the
prophet has written:
But you, Bethlehem, on the land
of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;
for out of you will come a ruler who will be the shepherd of
my people Israel.”
Then Herod called the Magi
secretly and found out from them the exact time the star had
appeared. He sent them to Bethlehem and said, “Go and make a
careful search for the child. As soon as you find him,
report to me, so that I too may go and worship him.”
After they had heard the king,
they went on their way, and the star they had seen in the
east went ahead of them until it stopped over the place
where the child was. When they saw the star, they were
overjoyed. On coming to the house, they saw the child with
his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then
they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of
gold and of incense and of myrrh. And having been warned in
a dream not to go back to Herod, they returned to their
country by another route.
A familiar story, for sure, the
journey of the Magi. Who were these Magi? Legend has it they
were foreign kings or wise men, but the word more accurately
means searchers, seekers, travelers. These Magi studied the
night sky looking for signs and signals, hoping they might
glimpse some disclosure of the workings and ways of the
world. In these ancient searchers we may just find some
kindred spirits in our own search for direction.
Our search for direction will
always entail the choice between kings. One thing we know
for sure is that the new year seems to be full of choices,
and in our story, these ancient seekers, these Magi of old,
find themselves facing a choice. The story makes it clear
that they have to make a choice, a choice between kings. The
story at the forefront of our text today speaks of two
kings: King Herod and this newborn “King of the Jews.” So
which one will they choose? Which king will they serve? The
story makes it clear. There is no way around it; they will
have to choose. And therefore, so will we. At the beginning
of the year, with our blank planners and the 525,600 minutes
staring back at us, which king are we going to serve? In
whose service will these minutes be filled? Will it be King
Herod or the baby king born in the manger in Bethlehem? This
is the first, and perhaps the most significant, choice we
will have to make at the beginning of the year, for this
choice between kings will determine the direction not just
of this year, but of our very lives.
So who is it going to be: King
Herod or King Jesus? Whose lead are we going to follow at
the beginning of this year? I know it seems like a pretty
obvious choice. I mean, we are in church here, preacher. We
know the answer you are fishing for. It is Jesus whom will
we choose, of course. But before we too quickly give the
“religiously correct” answer, let us remember that in this
choice between kings, it is Herod who most looks like a
king. He is the one who has the palace. He is one who has
the power. He is the one who has the armies and religious
leaders on his side. Herod is the leader who is declaring to
preserve the cultural values, secure national boundaries and
restore religious integrity. Make no mistake about it. When
it comes to the trappings of a king, Herod has the right
resume.
This other king, this newborn
“King of the Jews,” appears to be no king at all. No palace.
No power. No armies. No influence. This newborn king seems
to be devoid of the things associated with royalty and
kingship. According to our story, the only thing this
newborn king has is a name, Jesus—a name which means “God
saves.”
So here is the choice facing our
seekers. Which direction will they choose? Which king will
they follow? Our story tells us that when given the choice
between these two kings—between Herod and Jesus—the Magi
choose King Jesus. But let us be clear that this choice to
pledge their allegiance to this newborn changes everything
about what it means to be a king. To follow this different
king means that these Magi are not just pledging to follow a
different kind of king, but they have decided to help build
a different kind of kingdom and to live their lives in a
very different direction.
To choose King Jesus is to
choose to follow a king whose power is most evident in his
powerlessness. To claim Jesus as king is to be a part of a
different kind of kingdom, a kingdom whose borders will not
be protected by armies but will be established under the
principles of peace and justice. To choose this newborn king
is to live in a kingdom not marked by the palatial but
rather by the humble and the simple. This King Jesus will
not just be the king of the rich, the powerful, or the
religious or cultural elite. This King Jesus will also be
the king of shepherds and tax collectors. He will be the
king of the outcast and the forgotten. And to decide to be a
follower of this newborn king will change the way these
followers relate to the leader. They would no longer simply
be subjects, ruled by authority, power, law and fear, but
would now be invited into a partnership of mutuality and
responsibility. To choose this King Jesus is to turn
everything about God, about this world, and about the way we
are to live in this world on its head. To choose to follow
this King Jesus is to send our lives in a completely new
direction.
At the beginning of this year,
we are confronted by this same choice. Who will we choose,
Herod or Jesus? King Herod is all around us, knocking at our
door. Herod says to us at the beginning of the new year to
make it all about us. Make it all about our bodies, our
images or our bank accounts. Herod knocks on the door of our
national conscience, making us worry that we are not safe,
telling us that he and his armies will make us safe. Herod
knocks on the door of our churches, telling us that if we
want to be strong once again, if we want to regain our place
of influence within the public, if we as a church want to
once again have a voice in the decisions of our community
and nation, then Herod says to sign on with him and his
religious scribes and teachers and together they will purify
the church, tightening its doctrine, tightening its control,
clearly defining who is in good standing and who isn’t.
Or we can choose the way of
Jesus. We can look to fill in the spaces of our planners
with things that are about others. We can set our lives in a
direction that puts us in the service of the poor and the
hungry, the homeless and the forgotten. To choose Jesus at
the beginning of this year is to choose the ways of peace
and justice. It is to set our churches in the direction of
compassion rather than certainty. At the beginning of this
year, it is my prayer that we would once again choose to be
followers of Jesus Christ.
Once we make this choice to
follow this newborn king, our story has some other important
things to tell us. These Magi set out in search of the One,
and the amazing thing is that they seem to find him. The One
that history was pointing towards. The One the scriptures
promised. The One, who despite his appearance and despite
the station of life into which he would be born, would be
the One who would change the direction of human history.
They found him, and when they found him they went in, bowed
down in front of him, and worshiped him. And then what did
they do? They went outside and put up tents and just hung
out there in his presence forever, right? No, they went out
and immediately began plans to build a church right outside
the home where they found him, a church so they could stay
there and worship him, right? No, no, wait a minute, this is
what they did. They decided to build a seminary, complete
with ivory towers, so they could study him, write books
about him and construct belief structures around him,
right?
They didn’t do any of these at
all. No, after finding the One they had been seeking, they
left. They went back out into the world. The story tells us
that discovering God isn’t the end of the journey, but the
beginning. This runs counter to the ways we have so often
been taught about our religious life. We are often told that
if we are searching for God and we find God in the person of
Christ, then our search is over, our job is complete, we can
take our salvation and rest easy into eternity. But the
story suggests something different. It pushes us to see that
finding this Christ is the launching pad back out into the
world. The story reminds us that we are called to live our
faith out there in the midst of the world.
I worry about us sometimes. We
have such a great church here. It can feel like everything
we need is here. We have great programs and great worship
and a community of people we love and who love us. It is
very tempting to feel that when we walk into this place, we
have finished our search. Here we can quickly begin to feel
that we have finally found what we were looking for. But
our story tonight suggests that this place where we meet
Christ must never become our final destination, but rather
it should be our launching pad out into the world around us.
And so tonight as we look out at the year about to unfold,
and as we hold in front of us our blank planners, where
might God be calling us to go? Might this be the year that
we are called to go on a mission trip to Prague or Costa
Rica? Or is this the year when we get involved in tutoring
in Pontiac or in serving meals at Cass? At the beginning of
this year, let us be open to the places God might be calling
us, places we might not ever imagine we might be sent.
And then, finally, the story
tells us that we must go home by a different way. It
suggests that after an encounter with Christ, something has
got to change. We can’t just go back to the way things used
to be or the way things have always been. Something has got
to change. After the Magi encounter the Christ child, they
don’t just go back from where they came. No, they chart out
a new course in life.
If we are to take the story of
the Epiphany seriously, then we too must be prepared “to go
home by a different way.” We must be ready for something to
be different. We must open ourselves up to old habits
changed and old prejudices transformed.
So here we are at the beginning
of a new year and we have a choice. I say, “Let us choose to
‘go home by a different way.’”
In a world that says to look out
for yourself, let us choose a path of self sacrifice, and
let us “go home by a different way.”
In a world that measures worth
in homes, cars and bank accounts, let us seek a path of
charity and simplicity, and let us “go home by a different
way.”
In a world that always seems to
encourage us to hit back, let us choose instead to turn the
other cheek and in doing so, let us “go home by a different
way.”
In a world that is bent on
division and war, let us work for justice and peace, and let
us “go home by a different way.”
As we stand at the beginning of
this new year with all of its possibilities, let us make
ourselves open to the possibilities of a life of faith, and
let us dedicate ourselves to “go home by a different way.”
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