The Appearance of the Magi

Posted by stpauls on January 10, 2010 under Sermons |

[This sermon was written by Presiding Priest Ruth Monette and delivered on January 10, 2010.]

As you may already know, there is little historical evidence for the Magi outside of the Gospel of Matthew, which is far from a strict historical source. It is quite possible the author of the Gospel added them to the stories of Jesus’ birth already circulating. There’s some historical evidence that an Armenian king may have traveled to Rome to pay homage to the Emperor around the same time as we date the origin of Matthew which may have been an inspiration. Also, the appearance of the Magi, often thought of as Kings, fulfills prophesies that kings would bow to the Messiah. Matthew is a pretty good storyteller and the Magi add something to the story.

Even if Matthew’s account is historically accurate, the glimpse we’re given of the Magi is so slim that we Christians would have HAD to make up the many details we have about their backgrounds, desires, hopes, and how their encounter of the Christ child changed them. Matthew doesn’t give us any of that. None of it. But through the years of Christians engaging this text, many of us have attempted to create more robust characters out the Magi.

The 2006 film The Nativity Story does a good job pulling together many of the traditions Western Christianity has developed about these men. The film honors the Western tradition, naming them Gaspar, Melchior (Mel-core), and Balthazar. Did you know, by the way, that Eastern Christianity has different names for them? Balthazar is an African, picking up on the notion that the three wise men represented the three continents known to Medieval Christianity — Asia, Africa, and Europe.

In the film, the Magi live in a world of stone, colourful fabrics, silver chests, and fine foods. Mary and Joseph, by contrast, live in a world of dust, rough cloth, and neutral colours; the movie paints a stark picture of Jewish village life under Herod. We see the three men in their study — greedily looking over scraps of prophesies and star-gazing. They bicker amongst themselves as only long-term friends can do. When they realize what their prophesies suggest and what the stars’ alignments might mean, only Melchoir is determined to set out towards Jerusalem. Gaspar and Balthazar try to talk him out of it — the journey is too long, filled with too many dangers. It would discomfort them — Balthazar especially is concerned about his cushions and his dates and his wine. (They are, in their own way, the film’s comic relief). But nothing can deter Melchoir. He volunteers an extra camel, clearly wanting his friends to join him on his journey. He is, however, prepared to go alone; already packing into his large silver chests while the other two list out reasons why it is foolish.

As in many of our retellings of the birth story of Jesus, the film combines the nativity and Epiphany. We see Melchoir along with Gaspar and Balthazar who, of course, decide at the last moment to come on the journey after all, standing in awe as the starlight illumines Joseph, Mary, and the newly born Jesus – turning his first breaths into screams. “How is your faith now?” Melchoir asks of his companions.

We sometimes see the Magi as stand-ins for the Gentiles — as a prophetic appearance to foreshadow how Jesus’ ministry would touch the lives of even those outside the religious inner circle of ancient Judaism. And there’s something profound about that — particularly because these stand-ins are already seeking. The Magi are depicted as having begun a life-long search for something, for someone. They study the stars and prophetic writings. These are men engaged in a search.

They are, it seems to me, to be excellent examples of what it means to be spiritual seekers. There are three particular insights into spiritual seeking that the Magi illumine: the journey may be long and filled with hardship, the revelations we discover may be surprising, and the outcomes may be unknowable.

The Nativity Story does a particularly good job addressing how the Magi’s concerns over the difficulty of the journey nearly prevent Gaspar and Balthazar from setting out. Balthazar , especially, really nails these anxieties: it will be uncomfortable. They don’t know the way. They’ll have to give things up. Their daily routines will be disrupted. He or perhaps Gaspar says, “Surely, Melchoir, you mean a SPIRITUAL journey.” Surely, we are not called to actually inconvenience ourselves in our search for God?

I’d guess the film presents this particular lesson so clearly because it is so real an issue for so many of us. Just starting feels too huge. We’re good at envisioning all the things that could go wrong. We’re comfortable with our routines. We’re prepared to watch from afar. Although I believe that just as the star traveled with the Magi, God’s love is present with our every step, I also believe that the spiritual journey — including or not physical trips — are risky adventures. Balthazar and Gaspar had good questions about the challenges of setting out on Melchoir’s pilgrimage. They set out anyway, a point we should not forget.

I can’t help but wonder though if they didn’t also have some good questions about what they found when they reached their destination. The Nativity Story assumes, as most of our traditions do, that the Wise Men “got it” when they encountered the baby Jesus. But surely an infant child in barn was not quite what they expected? Isn’t it possible that they left Bethlehem unsure as to whether they’d found what they were looking for? They had gone in search of the Messiah and they found a peasant’s baby. Perhaps they did understand, but were still surprised. They went first to Herod’s palace in Jerusalem. Did they assume that the Messiah would be among the elite? Were they surprised to realize how wrong they were? Can’t you imagine Gaspar muttering all the way back to “the East” — “such a long journey just to see a baby!”

The revelation of God in the newborn Jesus is a surprising event. I’ve preached this before here: God seems to delight in surprises. Over and over in Scripture — perhaps nowhere as strongly or as fully as in the Incarnation — God upends our expectations, flips our assumptions on their heads. I’ve heard people suggest that the way to deal with this is to stop having expectations. I don’t think that works very well. I think it just might be in human nature to anticipate, to make assumptions, to hold expectations. And I think it is in the Divine nature to mess with them.

That reality is part of the third insight the Magi give us about being spiritual seekers: the outcomes may be unknowable. The Wise Men knew only that the star would lead them to the prophesied Messiah. And so when they arrived in Bethlehem, they had reached their destination. But where did they go from there? Home, the Gospel of Matthew tells us, but not along the same road they came. Although we have traditions that speak of their later baptism and promise the location of their tombs, we don’t know what happened to these men after they left the Holy Family. We don’t know how following the star and greeting the baby Messiah affected them. But we do know it sent them on another journey — a return journey perhaps, but one that took them on a slightly different route.

What a metaphor for our own encounters with God! Perhaps no destination in a spiritual journey is the final one. Perhaps all our destinations are just the starting points for our next journey.

I’ve made an assumption in this sermon that I want to make explicit. St. Paul’s is a congregation that regularly uses the language of journey and I imagine that many of you share this assumption. But it is not a universal assumption amongst Christians. I’ve assumed that we are spiritual seekers. That we are all somewhere on the journey. Sometimes Christians have treated spiritual seekers like outsiders, like people who just need to come to church. Sometimes we have acted like declaring a personal belief in Jesus Christ was the destination and that it was the only one. When we’ve behaved that way, we’ve presented ourselves as superior — as guides along a well-marked path. I like certainty as much as the next girl and there are days when I wish we did have creased maps with highlighted routes and useful traveler’s tips. As far as I can tell, however, what we know best is good questions to ask and some paths that don’t work so well and some that work better.

But pretty much, we’ll all out here riding camels through the desert together and hoping we’re interpreting the signs correctly. The revelations of God we see along the way may take our breath away and may be nothing like what we expected to see. And every destination may just be a resting place before we set off again. We go together — like Melchoir, Gaspar, and Balthazar– in companionship. So that along the way, we can be prodded and inspired, teased and cajoled. And so that as we travel, we can ask each other: How is your faith now?

Amen.