Sermon: Epiphany - 2019

6 January 2019

Text: Matt 2:1-12

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

For those of us in the Church who are not of Jewish heritage, today, the Feast of the Epiphany, marks our adoption into the family of God.  We were lost, but now are found.  We were on the outside looking in, but now we have been grafted to the Tree of Life.  God has indeed raised sons of Abraham from the stones.

The Magi were not children of Israel, but they worship the true God.  We don’t know if they had access to the Scriptures, but it does seem likely.  These Magi were “wise men,” and may well have been some kind of magicians or astrologers.  But when they come to worship the King, they are not treating the stars as gods or seeing themselves as servants of astrological fate.  For they have come to fall down and worship the Creator, the Redeemer, the King of kings and Lord of lords.  

Whether by prophecy, or in spite of the magic arts, these Gentiles have been led to the Christ, to the Savior, to the true God in the flesh.  Think of what they could have done with this knowledge.  They could have come to kill him to seek power for themselves (which is ironically what King Herod attempted to do).  They could have just ignored Him and gotten on with their lives as men of respect and wealth in their own country.

But instead, they go on a long journey, on “camels of Midian and Ephah” bringing “gold and frankincense,” as the prophet Isaiah foretold.  And they “shall bring good news, the praises of the Lord.”  For what did these gentiles bring back in exchange for the precious cargo that they left with the Baby King?  They brought “good news,” the Gospel, to the Gentiles.  They brought praises to God!  No more praises for stars, for stars are creatures and servants of the Lord.  No more magicians’ spells, for the praises of God are more powerful.  No more being outside of salvation by virtue of their genealogy, for they are destined for adoption as sons.  Indeed, this Baby King will go to the cross, not only for the Jews, but also for the Gentiles.  His blood will atone for the world, and His forgiveness knows no boundary or border, no language or tribe.

And in the decades to come, disciples of this King Jesus will likewise preach good news, as St. Paul was given grace “to preach to the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ, and to being light for everyone what is the plan of the mystery hidden for ages in God, who created all things.”

St. Paul would indeed preach Christ and Him crucified to the ends of the earth, to Jews and Gentiles alike, though it would be the Gentiles who would be most attentive and receptive to this good news.  And the apostles of Jesus will indeed preach the Word and establish churches in the far-flung lands of the Magi, bringing the light of Christ into the places where darkness formerly reigned: the “thick darkness” that covers the earth and its peoples.  “And nations,” as the prophet says, “shall come to [His] light, and kings to the brightness of [His] rising.”

Light is indeed a theme of the Feast of the Epiphany, as the light of the star led the wise men to the child Jesus, who is the Light of the world: “Arise, shine, for your light has come.”

And again, the Magi don’t travel to seek power for themselves, either by usurping the power of Jesus, or by snuffing out His life.  What did they do when they found Him?  “They fell down and worshiped Him.”  This word translated as “worship” means that they humbled themselves bodily before our blessed Lord.  The Greek word used here is related to the act of a dog licking his master’s hands.  It is an open demonstration of submission.  Traditional art often portrays the wise men as kings.  There is nothing in our text to explicitly indicate this, but the text in Isaiah’s prophecy seems to indicate this.  At any rate, kings or not, they were certainly highly regarded men: leaders of their people.  It is not ordinary or normal for powerful and wealthy men to travel hundreds of miles to worship a baby.

They knew that Jesus was God, dear friends, and they were not ashamed to bow before Him in worship. 

And the gifts they bring bear significance.  These are not trinkets, but incredibly expensive items.  They do not shrink from their duty to offer Him tribute as their Lord and King.  They do not rationalize stinginess by arguing that it would be better to give Jesus something cheap, and give the money to the poor instead. No, indeed, they bring Him gifts that our text describes as “treasures.”  As this Jesus would later preach, we believers are not to store up treasures for ourselves on earth, but rather lay up our treasures in heaven.  The Magi do that very thing, bringing offerings to show their love and gratitude to the One who will die to save them, and save their descendants for centuries to come. 

They bring gold, which is money.  Gold is also the stuff of kings.  Gold is used for jewelry and for a show of office, as kings wear crowns and wear symbols of their position that are forged in the yellow metal.  To give our Lord gold is to confess that he is, as the Old Testament prophets declare, the King from the House of David, from whom the scepter will never depart.

They bring frankincense, which is burned by temple priests.  Incense rises into the heavens, visually reminding us of our prayers that ascend to heaven.  And incense has a pungent aroma, reminding us of the sacrifices offered by the priests.  God commands the use of incense in worship, and to bring Jesus frankincense is a confession of His priesthood.  Jesus stands as the Intercessor between God and man, for He is both fully divine and fully human.  He makes atonement once and for all, for Jew and Gentile, for men and women, for free and slave, for young and old, redeeming sinners of every tribe and tongue by virtue of His priesthood that is above all priesthoods.  

They bring myrrh, an oily perfume used to embalm the dead.  This is an unusual gift for a baby, but it is a confession that this child was born in order to die, that this priest is also the sacrifice, that the atonement that He comes to effect for all men who are baptized into, and believe upon, His name, is offered to all people, even as Jesus is offered upon the cross.  But the myrrh is only symbolic, for His body will see no decay, and the large bag of myrrh brought by the Marys to the tomb that first Easter morning to anoint Him will go unused on that day.

These days, myrrh is often blended with frankincense and burned, providing a sharp and sweet aroma that reminds us of the sharpness of the law, the sweetness of the Gospel, and the beauty of our Lord’s salvation, which ascends to the Father as a “pleasing aroma.”

The wise men are indeed wise, for they seek Jesus, they worship Him as God, and they offer gifts to Him: as King, as Priest, and as Sacrifice.  They follow a light to the Light, and they outsmart the pretender king Herod (whose name means “fox”), who seeks to kill the true King.  They leave their treasures with Jesus and Mary, but they bring even greater treasures “to their own country.”  

And on this Holy Day of the Epiphany, the “shining upon” us of our Lord Jesus Christ, we mark another epiphany, a revealed truth that St. Paul refers to as “the mystery of Christ.”  For “as it has now been revealed to his holy apostles and prophets by the Spirit” that “this mystery is that the Gentiles are fellow heirs, members of the same body, and partakers of the promise in Christ Jesus through the gospel.”

Let us, like the Magi, dear friends, bow down and worship Him in humility, confessing Him as our King, our Priest, and our Sacrifice, the Savior of our people and of all people, the Light shining in the darkness.  And let us bring Him the treasures of our labor and of our hearts.  

“Arise, shine, for your light has come.”  Amen.

In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.