January 4
Isaiah 60.1-6 Psalm 72.1-7, 10-14 Ephesians 3.1-12 Matthew 2.1-12
You could be forgiven for being confused by the timeline of today’s gospel reading. After all, last week Herod ordered the slaughter of all children under two when he realised the astrological travellers had not returned to tell him where the ‘king of the Jews’ was, but today we hear they have only just arrived in Jerusalem and are still to arrive at the house where Jesus is and give him their gifts. And that is the problem when some of our readings are tied to specific dates and others to Sundays after a particular day. The ‘slaughter of the innocents’ is only read on the first Sunday after Christmas in ‘Year A’, which is where we are this year, and Epiphany is Jan 6 (or the Sunday nearest Jan 6), which means it comes after Christmas 1, so the readings look a little disjointed and ‘out of sync’. Sort of like having the ‘prequel’ after the ‘sequel’. And because today, or Tuesday, is the 12th day after Christmas, Epiphany, we can now take down our Christmas Trees.
But what do you have at the top your tree? An angel? A star? It is more common these days to have a star, but there are some where the angel is preferred as it is seen as the declaration to the shepherds of the birth of the Christ child. The magi still have a way to go, so the angel is preferred over the star. But the thing is, when angels turn up, dramatic things happen, and our reading today tells us that when stars turn up ‘unannounced’ you had better watch out.
As Matthew tells us, after the wise men told Herod they had observed the rising of the star, signalling the birth of the king of the Jews, “he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him”.
And it begs the question, did King Herod, who gets so much wrong, actually get this news right. He clearly understands that this rising star is big news, and it is not good news for him. And Herod is not the only one who sees this star as ominous. All Jerusalem does as well. They all see the star as frightening news.
John Phillip Newell notes that – we forget that for most of human history most people would have agreed with this assessment. Josephus, the ancient historian, noted that a star stood over the city of Jerusalem just before its fall in 70CE, and many thought the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79CE was caused by a comet. In the same vein, the appearance of a star in the sky over England in 1066, just prior to the Battle of Hastings, was seen as an omen of trouble ahead and in 1835, some people apparently blamed a star for the fall of the Alamo.
So maybe it makes sense for Herod and ‘all Jerusalem’ to be frightened because when the heavens start to defy prediction, there is no telling what might happen. After all, constellations may collapse, constellations of privilege, constellations of the possible and impossible, of all we can imagine and what we have come to expect. And then, what will happen, will it really be better? If everything changes, how will we know what to do?
Recently, I heard a familiar statement, the only constant in this world is change. We all change, as much as we might try to stay the same, change is inevitable. Over a period of seven years every cell in our body is replaced. In seven years’ time no part of you that is present here today will still be there, and no part of you that’s here now was part of you seven years ago, and yet it is still you. Change is built into our very being, it is a part of our very existence.
And in the middle of all this I am reminded of the verse we used to say at the end of the psalm passages.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit,
As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, world without end AMEN.
Everything changes yet we hang on to the familiar like our lives depend on it. We want everything to stay the same and it seems we almost expect God to be party to our desired neverchanging landscape.
We, as Christians, are pretty good at ‘talking’ about praying and working for the new. Our Scripture is full of messages of ‘a new thing’, of a ‘new creation’; our ‘God-talk’ is full of the renovating power of God in Christ, through the Holy Spirit. But is that really what we are wanting.
When we speak about the ‘new’, are we wanting ‘new’ or just ‘improved’. Can we really imagine a world that is totally different from the one we know or are we just looking for a ‘slightly improved’ version of the one we have. With the visit of the shepherds, something changed, with the arrival of the Magi, something changed. God was saying, I am enlarging my profile. I am making myself known to everyone, the riff raff of society are welcome; all people are my chosen people; no one is left out. The kingdom of God is for everyone, no matter how small, no matter how mighty, no matter how different they may seem. God makes changes, little one and big ones. And the New Year is a time associated with changes, resolutions to do things differently, to be better.
New year’s resolutions have sometimes totally changed how a person lives the rest of their lives. All resolutions are brave and holy acts, and what makes them holy is that they are not an end in and of themselves, they are a new beginning. These steps may only be very small, but they are not insignificant because they are steps toward a future you can’t see clearly, but which you strive for regardless.
And it takes a good deal of trust to do this, trust that you will have the strength to see it through, trust that it will become easier, trust that setbacks will not end your good intentions. Because success and failure are not events, they are trajectories. And that is true of God’s engagement with us, and all creation. It is not just an event, it is a trajectory. And that is what Herod and Jerusalem began to see when they looked at the sky and saw this star. The star was on a trajectory that showed them that God’s vision for Creation is on a trajectory that is so immense and wide-reaching that what we think we know and understand about how things work is just the beginning of what is out there. There is much more in store for us.
When Herod saw that star, all he saw was bad news, but we see good news, and it is the greatest news there is.
As this new year begins, we move from a place of ‘taking stock’ into a place of ‘taking action’, and we are invited to push all the boundaries and rules about what is and isn’t possible and what should and should not be, out of the way. We are invited to acknowledge our fears, and push past them so we can imagine what it might mean to live in the light of that new star.
For those who are struggling, the new star reveals a path back into the world. For victims of injustice and prejudice, the light of that new star is a reminder that change is coming. And for all those who are afraid of new things, the light of that star reveals a gallery of other faces eager to cheer, and help, and undertake the journey too. Whatever our fears may be, Epiphany reminds us that we can live our lives in a new light. Epiphany reminds us that Jesus, the light of the world, has arrived, helping us to see all things, even ourselves, in new ways. Which is the greatest of good news there is. Let’s not forget, this star was first seen by Gentiles, which reminds us the message of good news is not exclusive, it is for everyone.