STARS SHINING BRIGHTLY -- AN EPIPHANY LECTIONARY REFLECTION (Isaiah, Ephesians, Matthew)
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| Vincent Van Gogh, Starry Night |
When you wish upon
a star
Makes no
difference who you are
Anything your
heart desires
Will come to you
Such is the message that Jiminy the Cricket delivers to Pinocchio. Even if
we don’t wish upon stars, starlight does have a certain aura about
it. Ancient mariners looked to the stars, especially the North Star, to
find their way in the night. One of the founders of my denominational
tradition, Barton Stone, spoke of unity being our “polar star.” It is, he
suggested, our guiding principle. In our modern-day cities, it’s much more
difficult to see the stars. Only the brightest and biggest can pierce
through the light that pollutes the night sky, but in the ancient world,
without the presence of artificial light, you could see into the heavens and
perceive the movements of the stars and perceive in them guidance for
life.
The image of the light shining into the darkness is a key biblical theme.
It’s assumed that without the presence of God darkness reigns on earth, but the
good news is that light does shine and that if we’re perceptive we can follow
the star to God’s righteousness. Indeed, we too can become lights in the
darkness by reflecting into the world the light that is God.
Today is designated as the Day of Epiphany. For many, this ends the twelve days
of Christmas, which means it’s time to pull down the last of the Christmas
decorations and move on to what’s next when it comes to God’s vision for the
world. Epiphany declares that the darkness of this world cannot
extinguish the light of God. The promise of the light is found in the
reading from Isaiah, it is picked up in Ephesians, where the apostle declares
that the plan of God has been revealed to him so he can shed the light of God
on the Gentiles. And of course, there is Matthew’s story of the Magi, who
come to the side of the true king, guided by the star in the sky.
The word from Isaiah is a timely one. This third rendition of the
Isaianic vision emerges after the end of the exile. Now living under
Persian dominion, disillusionment has set in. The people are frustrated and
despairing that a better day might come. In words that seem appropriate
for our age, when we seem unable to break through the malaise of our current
situation when hope seems to be little more than a wish upon a star, Isaiah
speaks words of hope and guidance. “Arise, Shine! Your light has come;
the Lord’s glory has shone upon you” (vs. 1 CEB). There is light shining
in the darkness, guiding us forward through the night. In a word that the
church needs to hear, the prophet declares that “nations will come to your light
and kings to your dawning radiance” (vs. 5 CEB). As the former pastor (now
retired) of a small church, whose influence in the world seems negligible, I
hear in this a word of empowerment. Don’t be discouraged. Don’t hang your
head. Instead, lift up your eyes and behold the radiant light of God
shining into the world in and through these humble servants of God. Yes,
the opportunity is there to proclaim the Lord’s praises. The times are
difficult. We jump from one fiscal cliff to the next; we grieve the loss
of life at an exurban school as well as urban streets; wars continue
unabated. The darkness and the despair seek to consume us, but we needn’t
be afraid. We have more than a star to wish upon. We can draw
strength from the radiance of God that shines brightly into our world.
The word from Ephesians is a powerful one. Paul may not be the author of
this letter—his authorship has long been in dispute—but the image of a letter
emerging from prison is an important one. Think of Martin Luther King’s
“Letter from a Birmingham Jail,” a letter that brought light into darkness,
revealing in the hearts and minds of people who claimed to be followers of
Jesus their own darkness. This letter speaks of a secret plan that the apostle
has received by revelation. The secret plan is simple—God had determined
from of old to shine the light of grace upon the Gentile world. The word
of grace was not only given to the Jews, but to the world as a
whole. Earlier generations may not have realized this, but there were, of
course, hints (consider Isaiah 60). The apostle has been charged with
sharing this good news “about the immeasurable riches in Christ.” Consider
the liturgical context of this word. Isaiah speaks of “the sea’s
abundance” that will be “turned over to you; the nations’ wealth will come to
you.” This word of giftedness from the Hebrew Bible precedes Matthew’s vision
of the Magi coming to bring to the young Jesus (maybe more toddler than baby by
this time) gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Isaiah simply speaks of
gold and incense. But here is a word that connects with the vision
inherent in both Isaiah’s vision and that of Matthew— “God’s purpose is now to show
the rulers and powers in the heavens the many different varieties of his wisdom
through the church” (vs. 10 CEB). This is an important word—the wisdom of God
that will guide the world is to be revealed in and through the church.
This raises an important question – what role does the church (the body of
Christ) have in the world? Does this suggest a public role, a
transformative role? And if so, how should this be lived out? We
talk today about being missional, about living out of the Missio
Dei (mission of God). Does this not fit that message? Does it not
speak to the role of the church being that of a light shining in the darkness
and doing so because the church has “bold and confident access to God through
faith in [Christ]” (vs. 12)?
We’ve been waiting for this moment for some time. The crèches are begging to
have the “three kings” added to the mix. In our Christmas vision, we merge
Matthew and Luke and bring the magi into Luke’s scene, but such is not the
biblical vision. These are separate visions of reality and need to be heard on
their own terms. For Matthew, it is important to connect Jesus with Israel’s
destiny. Jesus fulfills, often allegorically, the prophetic visions—like
that of Isaiah 60. Magi come, following a star, seeking to find the newly
born “king of the Jews.” Who are these magi—the three kings of our
imagination? Most assume that the persons envisioned here are Zoroastrian
priests who come from the land of Persia—the land that once ruled over this
region of Judah. They have seen in the stars, signs of something important
occurring. Indeed, they see a particular star (comet, meteor, whatever), that
serves as a portent that God is at work in the world. They interpret this,
according to Matthew, as a sign that a new king has been born in Judea.
Discerning this truth, they decide to bring gifts – in Isaianic fashion. They
bring gold and incense. How many gather at the home of the Holy Family Matthew
doesn’t say, even if the carol suggests three (based on the number of
gifts). They go to Herod, who is a rather despotic tyrant of a vassal
king, a man so jealous of his power that he is willing to kill his family to
protect his throne. No rival will be allowed, not even a small
child. Herod wasn’t the first and won’t be the last tyrant to dispose of
any potential rivals. Herod might be despotic, but he is also cunning. So, in
Matthew’s account, he plays along with them, asking when and where the star
appeared, and then he turns to his religious advisors, who suggest that a
prophetic vision (Micah 5), places the messianic birth in Bethlehem. Now for
Herod, this is important news because Bethlehem is the Davidic city. Herod
might be King of the old region of Israel, but he doesn’t have legitimacy. He’s
not from the Davidic line—he was in fact an Idumean who married into the
Maccabean line, and they weren’t part of the Davidic lineage either. The true
hope, then, was for the restoration of the Davidic line. In Matthew’s vision,
the child born in Bethlehem is the embodiment of this promise. Armed with
Herod’s revelations, the Magi head for Bethlehem, finding the Holy Family in a
house (not a manger) in Bethlehem. They fall to their knees before him, in essence
declaring their allegiance to his prospective reign. They come bearing
tribute for the new king. In the ancient world tribute—riches were brought
by vassals to the Lord as a sign of their allegiance. We needn’t, at this
point, take this to mean worship in the sense that they were acknowledging
Jesus to be divine, but they were acknowledging him as God’s chosen vessel for
extending the reign of God in the world. They do so, not reluctantly, but with
joy. This is important news because normally submission to the rule of another
doesn’t come with joy, but here it comes as good news. It is, as the
Ephesian letter suggests, as is true of Isaiah’s message, that God’s purpose is
being revealed. God has a universal vision of peace and joy. The
Magi stand in as representatives of the Gentile world who will give their
allegiance to this King who emerges from Israel. Herod on the other hand
stands in as a symbol of the powers and principalities that will need to hear
and see the wisdom of God as it is revealed in and through the body of Christ—the
church.
We needn’t wish upon a star. We simply need to follow the star that is the
light of God, which shines brightly into the darkness of this world. We
can, therefore, as bearers of this good news, go before our God with boldness
and confidence and share in the radiance that is God’s presence.
Note: This is an
updated version of a post first shared on January
3, 2013.
Gogh, Vincent van, 1853-1890. Starry Night, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=55396 [retrieved January 5, 2023]. Original source: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Van_Gogh_-_Starry_Night_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg.
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