Being called through signs

a Sermon for Epiphany (C)
Text: Matthew 2:1-12

God of Hope and Wonder, as you gave these Magi signs, you give us signs that we might follow. We will listen as you keep calling us to service. Amen.

I have to confess that I always assumed that I would be watching cartoons as an adult. Since most of us love them as children, I assumed that would continue, and thanks to the Cartoon Network and Adult Swim, adults can like cartoons. What I didn’t expect is that I would spend 30 minutes every evening watching Nick Jr., the cartoon network for preschoolers. Over the last couple of weeks, they have been advertising a new Dora the Explorer episode: “Dora Saves Three Kings Day”. Now, I’m not a big Dora fan, and I didn’t watch this particular episode, but the title points out how we often envision the day. Three kings, travel from the Orient, carrying gifts solemnly to be delivered to the baby born 12 days earlier. A fascinating story, if not altogether accurate.

Much of the story, as we remember it, has the spaces filled in by tradition. Matthew doesn’t say how many Magi there are, but we think of three—one for each gift given. The word magi has the same root as magician, but we take these individuals as men and as royalty, naming them kings. A more accurate title might be stargazer or astrologer. They are also likely to have come from Babylon, not the Orient. In other words, Three Kings Day this is not.

So let us instead consider what the original version of the story might mean for us. The word magi in other parts of scripture is actually derogatory and suggests a charlatan, like a snake-oil salesman. That Herod would enlist such a group is interesting. They were already tracking an astrological event and were looking for something or someone, the new king of Israel. Whatever the case, these were a collection of people covering a long distance with attendants and a caravan following them, traveling a long way to visit God’s son. The Jewish authorities just down the road didn’t make the trip, but people from a foreign land did.

And they came because of a prediction. They saw a sign in the place they look for signs—the sky, and specifically among the stars, it took the form of a single star.

We tend to think that signs come to us like a paddle upside the head or a loud booming voice from the heavens—kind of like the one Jesus gets at his baptism. Something big and bold and flashy. We think that is how it all works. But signs can be much more personal and elusive. They come in the places you look, but not necessarily the form you expect. This is more like the form of God’s messenging service than direct visits from angels or in natural disasters.

This morning, we celebrate the Epiphany, derived from the Greek epiphaneia which means ‘manifestation’. In common terms, we think of having an epiphany—a moment of realization or clarity—or perhaps more literally, the manifestation of incredible insight. Considering that definition, we might be tempted to go back to Dora’s ‘Three Kings Day’ and call it good. But for us, epiphany isn’t simply about the visit from the magi. The other gospel reading for today is the baptism of Jesus. Next week is the wedding at Canna and so on, concluding with the Transfiguration. These passages cover not only the beginning of Jesus’s earthly ministry, but include actual manifestations of the Spirit and a new vision of things to come.

And because of all of the fireworks in these passages, we might overlook one simple truth: God spoke. And he directed the Magi to the Son.

We’re often challenged by God’s speaking in our lives. Sometimes we don’t like the timing. Sometimes we don’t like the challenge given us. Sometimes we don’t think we’re worthy. But we’re all here today because, in some way, we were called to be here, coming from all over the place. It is all the more special because we are about to demonstrate our faith and commission some wonderful people to service, to respond to the call that God has given to them. Today, one of the traditional days for baptism, we will have two, Alexander and Francesca. We will commission them to lifelong service and witness of God’s love. And we will all swear to lift both of them up and raise them in a healthy and spiritual way. In this way, we are all called to this service, not only as witnesses, but as guides and supporters of a new life in faith.

We also will commission our new vestry. These leaders, called from within the church will be given responsibility for much more than the financial health of the parish, but the direction and leadership of our ministries and our future. God has touched each of them for leadership at St. Paul’s and in the Diocese of Atlanta.

It may be easy to see these baptisms and the vestry commissioning as simply public acts—things done in front of the community. In this view, the gathered people are passively witnessing the events as they unfold. But for us, and for our theology, these are powerful moments, representing the collective voice of the congregation. WE are baptizing these two beautiful Christians and vowing to stand with them and hold them up. WE are commissioning this vestry to serve this year with dignity and honor. WE are responsible for helping these magi find God’s son, in a strange town, in a strange place, by the light of a brilliant star. This is our calling today. Let us follow Him.