An Epiphany sermon preached by the Revd Dr Trevor Jamison at Saint Columba’s United Reformed Church, North Shields, 5 January 2025
Isaiah 60: 1-6; Psalm 72 :1-7, 10-14; Matthew 2: 1-12
Watch the whole service on YouTube
‘Where is the child who has been born King of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.’ (2:2)
I imagine King Herod was surprised when unannounced visitors from out East turned up at his palace in Jerusalem. I suspect, though, that these visitors – magi, whom we today might regard as a mixture of astronomer and astrologer– were even more surprised than Herod when they were ushered into his presence.
They had come looking for a child who had been born King of the Jews; a Jewish descendant of King David. Instead of a Jewish child descended from David, however, the magi were confronted by an adult who was not from Judah but Idumea, from a people many regarded as doubtfully Jewish. And to cap it all Herod was king not by virtue of descent from David but by the uncomfortable fact that it was the Roman Empire had appointed him.
‘Where is the child who has been born King of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage’ constituted a significant social faux pas. When the magi asked their question you can imagine all of Herod’s courtiers suddenly feeling the need to examine their sandals whilst they awaited the king’s response.
Having heard the question, and taken on board the existence of an alternative King of the Jews who was Jewish-born, with his status declared by the stars, not by the Roman Senate, Herod was just as keen as the magi to locate this child. So he summoned his own wise ones: ‘the chief priests and scribes of all the people.’ (2:4) Interestingly he asked them where the Messiah (or ‘Christ’) is to be born. Since this recently born king’s arrival was announced by the stars then he might be the hoped-for God-sent saviour of the people, and also their king all rolled up in one.
Just imagine being one of Herod’s expert advisers on this occasion. Your Idumean-born, Rome-appointed monarch demands that you tell him where the Messiah is to be born. You know the answer it is not going to make Herod happy. Who in their right mind wants to make unhappy a man known for murdering even his own family members if he felt they were a threat?
Still, hoping that Herod will not shoot the messengers for bringing bad news, they tell it like it is. Bethlehem, where King David came from, and not Idumea, where Herod came from, is the place; the Jewish prophet Micah said so: ‘And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah [not Idumea] … from you shall come a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel.’ (2:6) I imagine the courtiers were back to examining their sandals when Herod’s expert advisers offered this response to his question.
A kingdom can have only one king, however, and Herod is not going to go quietly. He was not the sort of person who was ever goes quietly. That’s why when the magi first voiced their question not only Herod was frightened, but also ‘all Jerusalem with him.’ (2:3) In the politics of that time two competing kings equalled civil war. Thus things were set in train for Herod’s attempt to secure his place on the throne, which would lead to his massacre of children in and around Bethlehem, all in a vain attempt to eliminate Jesus.
The magi came looking for Jesus in order to pay him homage (2:2, 11). Herod went looking for Jesus in order to kill him. How might we go looking for a saviour, a messiah, a king; with what expectations; and for what purpose? Putting ourselves in the place of the magi, we realise that even before we go seeking our saviour – our king, the One, who saves us – God, who is sovereign over the whole universe, comes to us.
It’s not like the magi woke up one day thinking, “let’s go looking for a king” then looked for a star to justify that. Rather, they had a revelation, a light in the sky, which for them was an “epiphany”: ‘we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.’ (2:2) God, the one who creatively flung stars into space, who maintains and sustains the whole of the universe, set the magi off on a star-lit journey, and a meeting with a king; the saviour of the world.
Living in today’s world it can be very hard to see beyond the activities of its plentiful supply of contemporary “King Herods.” Some are political leaders who make others suffer so that they can retain their power and status. Other Herods exist in local communities, institutions, businesses, and even in the family sphere. When you look around the world there may be much which is good and beautiful, but there is also much that is bad and ugly. In order to see your saviour, in order to see God, it is necessary for there to a moment of revelation, of light, of epiphany.
We are in the fortunate of position of having two such sources of revelation: the world around us and the words of scripture. There are experiences of this world and its beauty which do light up for us the possibility and the reality of God. We do well to keep our eyes open for that, just as the magi kept their eyes upon the stars above and responded to what that told them. The other source of revelation that we enjoy and which the magi did not possess (though Herod and his advisers to some extent did so) is scripture – the Bible.
We are so used to the existence of scripture that we might take it for granted. Collectively, our Bible’s sixty-six books tell us the story about God, creator of the universe, in relationship to this planet, you and me. It’s a story that insists that God is just (watch out, all you King Herods), but ultimately loving (good news for the little bit of King Herod that resides in all of us). Specifically, the story of Jesus Christ shines a light upon how God ensures that love and justice are what endure in the end in this existence. We think we are going to go looking for a saviour, a messiah, a king – and we are – but only to find that our saviour, messiah and king has already come looking for us.
He’s an unexpected sort of saviour, messiah and king. Today’s familiar passage from Matthew’s Gospel contains only twelve verses, but I count no less than five mentions of the word, ‘child.’ (2:2, 8, 9, 10, 11) Maybe we skip over that because we’ve read Luke’s Gospel, with its shepherds, angels, and baby in the manger first. The magi, though, were expecting a child: ‘where is the child who has been born king of the Jews?’ Herod, having had a confidential conversation with them about the time the star first appeared (2:7) must have reckoned on the child being up to two years old; the upper age limit he set for the murder of children in Bethlehem.
Hence the magi arrived at a ‘house’ (not a stable), and ‘on entering the [said] house, they saw the child with Mary his mother.’ (2:11) There have been child-kings in human history, but I don’t think that’s what we expect if we enter the presence of the divine sovereign saviour of the world. So that encounter in Bethlehem can be a revelation that enlightens us – is an epiphany for us – about the nature of God, and how God acts in this world. One might expect a kingly God to enforce the divine will through deploying a heavenly army of angels or equivalent; that’s how a King Herod-like god would operate.
God, in contrast, comes to us in the person of one single human being – a baby and child, who will in time grow into adulthood, but for now invites, not forces, our response. All the way through this chapter in Matthew’s Gospel, both during the visit of the magi, and in the flight to and return from Egypt, Jesus has things done to him and for him, not through his own actions or commands. There is something here about how God invites rather than forces our response. And there’s a lesson to be learned about how churches and Christians should operate in this world – not seeking to be all-powerful, or to enforce our will on others, but to be vulnerable enough to present Jesus to others, then simply invite their response.
And how should we first respond to this child, Jesus; King of the Jews, messiah/Christ, and saviour for the world? The magi were clear about that from the moment they arrived in Jerusalem at the court of King Herod: ‘we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.’ (2:2) And what they say is what they do. Having arrived at the house in Bethlehem, having seen the child and his mother, we’re told, ‘they knelt down and paid him homage.’ (2:10)
So what’s the appropriate homage to pay to Jesus? The same Greek word that gets translated as ‘homage’ here in the Gospel can carry more than one meaning in English. It can mean deep respect such as one would pay to a monarch or other person in high authority. I think that’s what everyone would have understood when they told Herod and his courtiers of their intentions concerning this new ‘King of the Jews.’
When it comes to the homage they pay to the child when they arrive at the house we might discern another appropriate meaning for the same original Greek word – not just deep respect – worship.
Their homage of Jesus is like that appropriate for a descendant of David who is King of the Jews. As Psalm 72 put it, ‘may the kings of Sheba and Seba bring gifts, may all kings fall before him, all nations give him service’ (72:10, 11). Or alternatively, as the prophet Isaiah declares, the nations ‘shall bring gold and frankincense, and shall proclaim the praise of the LORD.’ (60:6)
The magi’s gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh, seen and interpreted through Christian eyes become expressions of worship. Gold is fit for the one who is kingly, just as God is King of this world. Frankincense is appropriate for the one who is priestly, who will represent God to humankind, and bring humankind to God. And finally, myrrh (which was considered appropriate for anointing the dead) points us forward from Jesus’s birth to his cross, which is God’s definitive action for the salvation of this world.
Unlike the magi, we can’t pay homage to Jesus by traveling to Bethlehem, carrying gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. We don’t know which house to go to, and even if we did, if it still stands, the child moved on from there years ago. Our homage, our worship of this King comes in the form of prayer and praise, word and song. The magi’s example, though, strongly suggests that what we do in life through our own actions and with our material possessions (our gold, frankincense and myrrh) are essential components of our homage to – our worship – worship of Jesus.
This 2025 the world’s beauties, when combined with the scriptures, shine a light which leads us to God in Jesus Christ. It remains a surprising way to meet with God, in human vulnerability rather than in divine splendour, but that’s God way. Presented with God through love, not force, we are called, urged, inspired, to respond with out homage, our worship; our prayer and our praise, or actions and our possessions. Amen.
Prayer
Eternal God, by a star you led the magi to the worship of your Son. Guide by your light the nations of the earth, that the whole world may know your glory; we ask this through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, now and for ever. Amen.