Episode Transcript
[00:00:00] Speaker A: Will you bow your heads, please?
Almighty God, you promised never to break your covenant with us.
Amid all the changing words of our generation, may we hear your eternal word that does not change.
Then may we respond to your gracious promises with faithful and obedient lives through our Lord Jesus Christ.
[00:00:26] Speaker B: Amen.
[00:00:29] Speaker A: This morning's scripture is From Matthew, chapter 2, verses 1 through 15.
You can find it on page 783 in your pew Bibles.
It is the story of the Magi and Epiphany.
Listen for the word of the Lord.
In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the east came to Jerusalem asking, 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.
When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him, and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born.
They told him, in Bethlehem of Judea, for so it has been written by the prophet.
And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah.
Far from you shall come a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel.
Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star appeared.
Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, go and search diligently for the child, and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.
When they had heard the king, they set out, and there ahead of them went the star that they had seen at its rising until it stopped over the place where the child was.
When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy.
On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary, his mother, and they knelt down and paid him homage.
Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.
And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.
Now, after they had left, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, get up.
Take the child and his mother and flee to Egypt and remain there until I tell you, for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.
Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother by night and went to Egypt and remained there until the death of Herod.
This was to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet.
Out of Egypt I have called my son.
This is the Word of the Lord, thanks be to God.
[00:03:58] Speaker B: So a sport I loved back in high school was cross country running. I ran on the cross country team at my school, and we'd often travel to other schools in the region to compete against their teams. And when we did, we tried to allow plenty of time to look over the race course in advance.
In cross country, there will often be paths that go through forested areas or along streets, and you might be running along and not necessarily know you were supposed to take a left or a right at a particular point. And so it was really helpful to get to a race course early if we were competing against another school and see how they had laid out the course, where the twists and turns were, and to know that well in advance, if they had a map, we would look over that map carefully before the race. Ideally, then you wouldn't have to think about those twists and turns, but could just focus, focus on running. And I learned one time, the hard way, how important it is to have a real clear sense of the map of the course in my mind. Before I even set out my freshman year, near the end of our season, I got to run a junior varsity race. Usually my school was small enough. There weren't junior varsity races, but on this occasion there were. And I got to run the junior varsity race and found myself in the really unusual position for me of being in the lead.
And then as I ran, I missed a turn off to the left, but just kept going. The signage was not particularly clear, at least I thought. And what got me back on track was a runner for the competing team who was behind me, and he graciously yelled out, hey, you're going the wrong way.
Hearing that, turned back around and get back on the right track. I was grateful to him, but took a lesson to always try and if I can, to have a sense of the whole course in advance.
To this day, I don't know about you, but if I'm traveling anywhere and I've got my Google Maps application, I'll not only plug in the destination, but then zoom out so I can see sort of the whole course before you know, and see, like, where the twists and turns go. And that way I have kind of a framework of where I'm going. I still love that the. The map will alert me, hey, you need to take a left in just 100 yards or whatever it is. I love that. But I also love having the whole picture in advance.
One time early on, when I was heading to Vallirmo to visit St. Andrew's Abbey and was driving up that, you know, the two or the Angeles Crest Highway. I was looking for a particular left turn.
I knew that a particular point. I had to turn left on Angeles Forest highway off of Angeles Crest Highway. However, if you've been up in the mountains, you know that you lose cell phone reception.
So we're driving along and suddenly I can't see the map and I get super anxious and discombobulated. I don't know, what if I miss that left turn? It's entirely possible. And there's not going to be a car behind me that can yell, hey, you're going the wrong way.
And allow me to get back and make that left. Thankfully I found it, but in the future I was really careful to see that in advance.
I love having that map and if I don't have it, I can get really anxious, troubled, disturbed.
And so I wonder when I read the story of the Magi, if they felt that way. Troubled, disturbed, deeply uncertain. When they arrived in Jerusalem, they thought Jerusalem was was their destination.
They followed the signs.
These astrologers from the east looked at the night sky as a kind of Google Maps app. They looked up and we suspect these Magi were Zoroastrian priests from Babylon. But we aren't told their precise region, nor their responsibilities, nor their number. But we are told they were careful observers of the stars that they saw up in the celestial bodies.
Events might be taking place in the world and when those events might lead them in particular directions.
When they saw a particular star appear that indicated a new king had been born to the Jewish people, they surely looked at the map. And in the land of the Jewish people, they figured Jerusalem was the natural spot. That's what they should plug into their map app. Jerusalem had been the ancient capital of Israel back when it was a United Kingdom of 12 tribes. Jerusalem had been the capital of Judah when the north and south were divided.
Jerusalem was where observant Jews would travel three times a year for festivals like Passover. Surely they thought Jerusalem would be where this new king was born.
But then they arrive and. And it's like their map program loses its cell reception. It's signs they had carefully observed in the night sky all went dark.
They were there, in Jerusalem. But when they asked the king there, Herod, about a child born king of the Jews, Herod's response was not one of delight or welcome. He didn't say, come and see this son of mine, or perhaps another child who was to be Herod's successor. Instead we read that Herod and all of Jerusalem with him were in a state called Taraso in Greek, Taraso.
In the translation that Toby read, that word taraso is translated as frightened.
But the word can be translated instead as distressed, troubled, anxious, or agitated.
In the book of Ezekiel, we see this word tarazo, and it referring to water in a stream that has been stirred up by. By the foot of a dragon.
It's like suddenly water in a stream that had been crisp and clear gets murky and opaque, like the map on your cell phone fails to load, or the stars in the sky got covered by storm clouds. You feel lost and distressed for you no longer have a map.
Why were Herod and all Jerusalem with him so agitated, so Taraso?
Well, Herod held the title King of the Jews. At least he thought he did.
But then when magi from the east come claiming to have seen a sign that a new king of the Jews was born, well, it can throw political uncertainty into the mix. And there's nothing like political uncertainty, political instability to make you feel like you've lost your bearings, like you thought you had a clear map of the world, of your own area, the governance and power structures of your region. But then it's like the map program gets disrupted, and it can be great cause for anxiety and fear for Taraso.
I don't know how you all experience Saturday morning, but I know I woke up to news that I found Terrazzo, or at least it pushed some terrazzo in me when I learned my country had staged a military campaign and captured the leader of Venezuela, Nicolas Madura, and his wife, and taken them to New York City.
I then heard the news that representatives of my government would be running Venezuela.
And I also learned that prior to Saturday, I hadn't been aware my country had been at war with Venezuela. Maybe you were.
I wasn't.
And I hadn't known that the structures of governance I assumed were at work had authorized such action.
And then to wake up and learn the leader of Venezuela was captured and held in my country, and representatives of my country were now overseeing affairs in Venezuela. It was like Taraso, like this feeling. Things have gotten stirred up, and I wasn't sure which way was the way forward.
Do you know what I mean?
What do you do in such a state?
How do you move forward when the map you had in your mind, the way things operate, the structures, the way forward, suddenly gets all murky, where it's like the stars that have been guiding you are suddenly dark.
We read of what Herod does in today's passage. He calls together the chief priests and scribes of the people, those most familiar with the Jewish sacred text. And they uncover a passage from the prophet Micah. And it reads, you, Bethlehem and the land of Judah are by no means least among the rulers of Judah, for from you shall come a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel.
It's like voices emerge from the scriptures to tell the magi, hey, hey, you went the wrong way. You were going straight and you should have made a left.
And Herod instructs these magi to go back and to make that left to go to Bethlehem and search diligently for the child and send him word when they had found him. We will soon learn that Herod's motives were not, as he claims, to honor this child. His intent was to kill the child.
We will later read in Matthew's gospel of how Herod stages a military campaign to kill all the children.
Bethlehem.
So this potential threat to his power, this king who might grow to be an alternative to him, to proclaim an alternative kingdom to his, might not grow and threaten him.
Herod, as Matthew's gospel portrays him, as a man gripped by taraso, troubled, agitated, frightened, as we all become often.
And he responds to that terrazzo by gripping as tight as he can to the power he possesses, destroying anything and anyone who might threaten him.
That is one response to terrazzo.
Grab hold of power, control any way you can, grab hold as tight as you can to the illusion that you are in charge of the very forces that govern the universe, that they will bend to your will.
But there are other responses one can make to tarazos.
The magi, for example, do not seem to respond in fear, but rather continue in their journey. They go to Bethlehem, they set out, and they see the celestial map once again.
It's like a force from the heavens is saying, head this way, not that way.
The star they had observed in the east not only appears, but rests over the house where Mary and the child were staying. They enter the house and present before the child gold, frankincense and myrrh. And it's like these magi were living out the words from the prophet. Isaiah, chapter 60. When the prophet said this to the people of Israel, arise, shine, for your light has come and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you. Nations shall come to your light in kings, to the brightness of your dawn.
They shall bring gold and frankincense and proclaim the praise of the Lord.
It's a glimpse of how not just the Jewish people, but the world would be blessed with the light of God's glory. Shining on a people, God's people, Israel, but also shining on a people. People from the east, people all over the world. It's like that ancient call of God on Abraham and Sarah that I have blessed you, God says, and now you go and be a blessing to all nations of the world. Like we're seeing that lived out in the coming of Jesus Christ.
Faraway nations are drawn to that light.
What do you do when you've been met by the light of God's love for the world, as we believe the Magi were, when they finally see the Christ child?
What is it you found?
Well, according to our scriptures, when you're met by that love for you in the world that the Magi encountered, when you found that guiding light, you are drawn to it. You want to give your life to it. And so the Magi do. Giving precious gifts. That's what you do with someone you love. That's what you do when you found the love of your life.
And then we read how they go forth from that meeting with Christ and they take a different way home.
They don't give Herod the news as to where this child lies. Instead, we read, they follow another voice, another path back.
They're changed, I would argue, by that encounter with the light.
And they head back, illumined by that light they had seen shining in Jesus Christ.
As Christians, we believe God's love is shown for us in this, that God sent Jesus Christ to love us, to die for us, to rise for us. We believe that in this we know love. Not that we loved God, but God loved us and gave his son an atoning sacrifice for, for us as people who've received that love, seen that love, had that love transformed us, we then, we believe, have a light as a way to respond, as a light leading us out from that light into the world. That light was called in the Hebrew Scriptures the light of God's word. And the psalmist sings about it. When the psalmist writes, thy word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.
As Christians, this season especially, we celebrate how that light came in Christ. And that light then directs us as it did God's people, in the way of God's commandments.
And you'll remember when Christ was asked, what is the greatest commandment? How might the commandments be summed up? Or what's the absolute priority if we are to follow God's direction? That direction in the Hebrew Scriptures, that was called a light of God's word. And you remember what Christ says. He says the greatest commandment is love.
Love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself.
It's a vision of people struck by God's love shown in Christ, and then a people who go out directed by love, as a people who follow a different path than that of seizing more and more for ourselves.
For we've found a greater love.
As we start 2026, may the story of the Magi guide us. The story of seekers who set out on a journey, landing in love, God's love for the world that they witnessed so close, God's glory on display in the Christ child. The story of the Magi, I would argue, is a love story.
Well, one last story I thought I would tell you. I read it in the News also this past week.
If you read the column by David Brooks, you might have read his article on the Great Detachment. He bemoaned how detachment from things and people and commitments and institutions too often defines life today, and he writes specifically of his journey of discovering the power love love shown in strong attachment to what matters.
He writes this when I was 17, I fell madly in love.
We'd been casual friends for a few years, but on May 5, 1979, while we were hanging around a campfire with some other high school seniors, she slipped her hand into mine, and that was my first taste of pure bliss.
I treasured being a camp counselor. But that summer I stayed home from camp and worked as a janitor in a movie theater so I could go to Howard Johnson's lunch counter every day and chat with her while she worked.
We were separated for a year at different colleges, but then she transferred to join me at the University of Chicago, where within a few months she dumped me.
He talks about then going into an Albert Camus phase, where he thought, there's no suffering like my suffering. He even bought cigarettes to smoke and revel in his misery.
He writes, I was transformed by my time in college classrooms, but that love affair might still have been the most important educational experience of my youth.
It taught me that there are emotions more joyous and more painful than I ever knew existed.
It taught me what it's like when the self gets decentered and things most precious to you are in another.
I even learned a few things about the complex art of being close to another.
Most important, that relationship gradually taught me that one of the most important questions you can ask someone what are you loving right now?
What are you loving right now? Love, he writes, is a motivational state. You want to care for and serve the thing you love. Your love is propelling you this way or that you want communion with the thing you love. If you want to know me, he writes, know the things I love.
My kids, my wife, America, God, friends, New York City, the Mets.
Writing the Chesapeake Bay, reading, intellectual history, playing sports with great enthusiasm and mediocre talent, Montana teaching.
My list goes on, and I bet you have your own.
What would your list include?
We know what it included for the Magi.
And we know the two great things Jesus lifted up, God and our neighbor.
As people who have seen God's love for the world and a child born in Bethlehem, may we dare to be led by love and embrace the joy, disappointment, even the agony that comes with that journey. The agony can include seeing a community you love ravaged by fire.
And Claire. I still remember hearing that song by the Ukulele Orchestra about Altadena and realizing how much I love that community.
Loving enough to hurt when it hurts.
This agony can include having a family member you love, or a community you love, or a congregation you care deeply about, taking a direction that you worry is the wrong one, but you love him still.
It can mean helping a neighbor in need, even if that help is spurned or rejected or unappreciated. Joy and heartbreak both come with that move of attachment through love.
But may our story be one not of detachment or apathy or withdrawal or seeking to control what we cannot control.
May our story be like that of the Magi, attachment to things that matter, with all it entails. May we, like the Magi, marvel at Christ, our North Star, and may we go out illumined by him in love.
Love of God and neighbor, love of our community, love of our country, love of this world. In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, amen.
