A sermon by Associate Minister Elsa A. Peters, January 3, 2010
Matthew 2:1-12
The star is the focal point of this story. The star causes the wise people to arrive at King Herod’s door to ask about the “child who was born king of the Jews.” It’s the star that the wise people follow even after Herod has given them directions to Bethlehem. It’s the very thing that stops – in the middle of the sky – right over where the child was.
And yet, there are a few things that we should probably set straight before we follow the star ourselves. First of all, how many wise people were there? You always thought there were three, right? Not true. Matthew is the only one to tell this story in the entire Bible. And according to him, we don’t know how many wise people there were. We also don’t know why they were wise, although the Greek word magi translates most closely to astrologers. So, at the very least, it seems that we must know where they came from, right? Not true. Matthew continues to be vague. They came from the East to Jerusalem.
Matthew expects us to understand how frightening this is, but for most of us, two thousand years later, the impact of being from the East is mostly lost. And yet, we’re asked to recall that the conquerors came from the East. Those that came to destroy the ancient kingdoms of Israel and Judah all came from the East. So, there’s reason to be nervous here. Very nervous. The type of nervous you feel when a stranger gets too close. Because, honestly, as one Biblical commentator snidely adds, “it’s not clear who these strangers are; it’s only clear that they are strange.” And for whatever reason, these strangers are following a star.
This fascinates me because they seem to have a lot of information from something that spotted on the horizon. From the first exclamation that they make, presumably to Herod, these wise people seem to know that this particular star will lead them to a child who has just been born. I want to know how these would-be wise people know that from a star. Does this star shine brighter than the rest? Does it fit into a constellation that depicts a baby? Or is it actually a comet like my favorite Biblical commentary says?
This further ruins the magic of the story. After all, according to NASA, a comet is nothing more than an “icy body that releases gas or dust.” However, I do remember the excitement that came with the arrival of Halley’s Comet. I remember how much I wanted to see it and how disappointing it was that I missed it – though I honestly don’t remember why. Still, with that curiosity, I can understand why the wise people were so excited about this weird thing that they saw in the sky.
And yet, the wise people see this star, they don’t just know that a child has been born. They know that this child will be king of the Jews and these strangers want to worship him. Now, this is a weird thing because these wise people come from the East and are definitely not Jewish. So, why in the world are they so excited about a king of the Jews? Herod has good reason to get worked up about this. That’s his title. He doesn’t want that taken away from him. But, for the wise people, that’s not so clear. They are non-Jewish strangers traveling from afar. So, why do they care about this child that obviously has “political ramifications”?
For Matthew, it’s important that these wise people care about this newborn baby because this child won’t just save the Jews. This child will be the salvation of all of us – even those that come from the East. This child, nestled under a rising star, will be our Emmanuel. God will no longer be distant. God will be with us. As it was told to Joseph in a dream only a few verses before the wise people started their journey, this child will be that reminder. We will know that God is with us because of the child that was born in Bethlehem.
That works for Matthew, but I need a little more. I want to know more about that rising star that “stopped over the place where the child was.” To me, this seems stranger than that wise people coming from the East. It’s poetic and lovely but it doesn’t make any scientific sense that the star stops right there in the middle of the sky. (Now, let me be clear, I know it’s not supposed to make scientific sense. I know that Matthew is creating a parable that demonstrates the significance of this child by closely paralleling this story to the freedom realized in Exodus. I know all that. I still want to know about this star.) I want to know why it stopped. I want to know who else saw it. I want to know why no one else thought this was a little strange.
As far as I can tell, from my limited knowledge of stars, each star has a life span that culminates in the moment when the hydrogen at its core starts to cool. It then becomes something called a red giant. As you can guess, that means it gets bigger mostly because of some reaction with its helium. Things get grim for the star when it starts to produce iron and it starts to consume energy rather than exert energy. Please don’t ask me how that happens. I don’t really understand this. But, at this point, the iron gets to the point where it can’t support its own weight and it literally bursts.
Even though this event is invisible to our naked eye, I kinda like the idea of a star bursting over the child in Bethlehem. Fireworks seem entirely appropriate. We should have some sort of pause to celebrate what’s happened. And yet, that’s the interesting part to me. Traditionally, the wise people arrive twelve days after the birth of the baby. They arrive after many of our neighbors have thrown their trees to the curb and packed away their decorations. The celebration for most of us is over. And yet, there are fireworks in the sky.
It’s not until this moment when the wise people are overwhelmed with joy. It’s not until this moment that they see the child. It’s not until the star stopped. And while the star might stop, God has not. God has always been there. God was there when destruction came from the East. God was there when these strangers arrived. God will even be with us when these strange people leave. So, while the star might stop, God will not.
I like to think that we can remember this simple fact from the stars because I learned one more things about stars this week. It’s something you probably know already. It’s a simple rule of physics that whenever energy is put into motion, it continues forever. It never stops. It’s the same in the stars. When a star grows heavy with iron – and literally bursts – the energy from that event continues. It creates new stars. It keeps going forever and ever. It’s the same with God. Even though we may have packed up our tinsel and bows, the birth of God has come into our lives and that energy will be with us forever.