The Speed of Light

Isaiah 60:1-6; Matthew 2:1-12
January 6, 2019, Epiphany Sunday
First Presbyterian Church, Sterling, IL

Today is the Feast of the Epiphany, the twelfth day of Christmas. Those of you who’ve been around this church a while know that I just love Epiphany, the celebration of the magi’s visit. Our first reading from the prophet Isaiah foresees a time when the promised glory of God will light up the world, and all people everywhere will come to that light, and will worship and praise God. Let’s listen for how God’s light shines in Isaiah 60:1-6:

Arise, shine; for your light has come,
and the glory of the LORD has risen upon you.
For darkness shall cover the earth, and thick darkness the peoples;
but the LORD will arise upon you, and his glory will appear over you.
Nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn.
Lift up your eyes and look around; they all gather together,
they come to you; your sons shall come from far away,
and your daughters shall be carried on their nurses' arms.
Then you shall see and be radiant; your heart shall thrill and rejoice,
because the abundance of the sea shall be brought to you,
the wealth of the nations shall come to you.
A multitude of camels shall cover you,
the young camels of Midian and Ephah;
all those from Sheba shall come.
They shall bring gold and frankincense,
and shall proclaim the praise of the LORD.

Our gospel reading today is the description of the visitation of the magi, those wise astronomers who traveled from Persia, following a star, seeking the one who had been born king of the Jews. Let’s listen for God’s word to us as we journey with them:

Matthew 2:1-12
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;
for 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 had 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.

The word of the Lord.
Thanks be to God.


They studied the night sky, seeking the fulfillment of a prophecy.
It was foretold that a child would be born of a virgin, and would be a king.
The prophecy was ancient, ancient as the stars that shone in the darkness,
stars whose light had left them years before,
and traveled to the earth now to guide them.

Their quest led them to Judea.

And what they were doing was a terrifying threat to the powerful:
they were seeking the one who had been born king of the Jews.

It wasn’t long before King Herod heard of their snooping around and summoned them to him. It was not the first time Persian astronomers had been consulted by a king. In the book of Esther, the king turned to a council of magi for advice. The prophet Daniel, who’d spent years among the Magi, was summoned to advise King Nebuchudnezzar.

So Herod consulted his own wise men, and then called the magi to him. But what these magi told Herod was enough to make him choke on his wine: this king would come from Bethlehem of Judea.

Now Herod was the rightful king of Judah, and he was great – really great.
He was so great that he had dubbed himself “Herod the Great.”
He’d maintained his position of power through all sorts of
extortion and violence and intimidation and deception and threats.
Herod was the king, and everybody knew it.

But now here came these Persian foreigners,
calling into question the future of his position,
suggesting that there was a threat to his power.

Lying comes easily to a despot,
so it was easy to pretend that he wanted to worship this new king, too.
It was politically expedient of course, even as it is now,
to pretend to be interested in Jesus,
to tell those who seek him that you, too, want to worship him.

But Herod was not the king the magi were seeking,
and so they went on, looking ahead of them,
following the star that they had seen at its rising.

Following a star is something we all do, in one form or another.
Not an actual star, usually, unless we are astrophysicists,
and few of us follow a movie star, unless we are preteen girls.

But we follow stars throughout our lives.
Some of us walk toward the shining light of our dream job,
or the house or car or material possessions we think we want.

It’s not unheard of for a person to follow another person
with the same intensity as the magi tracing the path of that star:
maybe it’s a romantic attachment, or an influential boss,
or a popular student, or a religious leader.

This nearly always turns out to be a disappointment at best
and at its worst can lead to destruction.

We’ve probably all, at some time in our lives,
given our time and thoughts and loyalties to following some light,
only to discover that we’ve tracked the wrong star.

When we are in the dark, it’s hard to make out the source of a light;
it can be difficult to know which star to follow.

There are so many stars, spread out across that blanket of darkness.
And though they may only be visible to us at night,
all the stars are there shining all the time.
And somehow we have to choose which light to follow;
somehow we have to distinguish among the true lights and the false lights,
between the true source of light and the reflected beams

Light travels fast, faster than our brains can think, even faster than gossip.
We turn toward it when we are seeking to escape the darkness.
What if we choose the wrong star to follow?
What if the light we think we see is something else altogether?

A few years ago a flock of eared grebes, a type of waterfowl,
crash-landed to their death in a snow covered parking lot.[1]
The reflected light had made them mistake the lot for a lake.

Every one of us probably knows someone who has reached for the stars
and ended up holding a handful of straw;
someone who followed a bright light
and discovered it was a streetlight or a spotlight or a stoplight.

Too often nowadays, people follow the flash and shine;
they mistake shine for brilliance, and can’t tell bluster from luster.
What a painful moment it is, when it dawns on us
that the star we’ve followed is a false light.
But we all want to reach for that star – to reach the source.

The secret, as it was for the magi, is to seek the source of the light.
That source, their true goal, was the Christ child, the infant Jesus.
He was born king of the Jews and king of the heavens.
The Magi followed a star, but what they sought was Jesus.

The star, the scripture says, 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.

If that were the end of the story, we could all go home after worship and congratulate ourselves that we have, indeed followed the right star and found Jesus and worshiped him. But of course there is more to the story.

The rest of the story is what happens after we follow the star, after we’ve made haste to come to see the child born in Bethlehem. He was born in humble circumstances, not in a palace, and he rarely attracted the mighty and powerful, except those who meant him harm. He did draw in the lowly and the plain people, the simple and the sad. He attracts those who were foreign and makes them welcome, invites those who were far away, and bids them come near.

As the prophet said, “Lift up your eyes and look around;
they all gather together, they come to you; 

your sons shall come from far away,
and your daughters shall be carried on their nurses' arms.
Then you shall see and be radiant;
your heart shall thrill and rejoice.

He is host to the hungry and wine for the thirsty. Once you’ve come into his presence, like the magi, you have to go home by some other way. Once you’ve seen him, and eaten with him, you don’t go back to Herod, no matter how great Herod tells you he is. Today we come to Christ’s table to receive the bread and the cup, but we do not simply enjoy our communion with God and one another then walk away unchanged.

Once you’ve had your heart swell with joy
and your spirit filled with hope
and your belly filled with the bread of life,
you go home by another way.

Once we’ve found the source of the star, the true light of the world,
we unavoidably become reflections of that light,
and we can become stars ourselves,
sharing the good news with others at the speed of light.

Amen.




[1] https://www.care2.com/causes/thousands-of-birds-mistake-walmart-parking-lot-for-pond.html