What did the Magi see? What was it about that star, that caught their attention?
Aren’t there thousands of them? What was it about that one star?
Did they ever doubt what it meant? Did they really ever know in the first place? How could the Magi be sure of why it was there and where it was leading them?
What makes a star was worth walking toward in the first place? Can you call that faith?
And how about you? Do you ever doubt signs like these? Are you ever unsure of what, or who, is leading you? And what about faith itself—is it something you walk towards or is it merely a position you take or a claim you stake?
What I mean to ask is, “Who or what really guides you?” Do you dare answer such questions so quickly? Are you that sure of your answer?
These are the Epiphany questions I have.
And what about the Magi—what did they think they were doing? Why travel so far for a light, to a far-off land, to a people whose culture and ways of life, whose language and creed were entirely foreign to them?
Were they simply stargazers—hobbyist with nothing better to do? What did they see? A supernova? Jupiter and Saturn in alignment? Perhaps a comet? What was it about this one star, anyway? What did they see in it? Or were they after more?
How does a star point to a particular house, anyway?
How far did they travel? 5—, 600 miles, maybe? A month by foot? Who would travel that far for light in the sky? Why would anyone walk that far for anything?
If that took you, say 24 days, would you do it? Would you leave home and family, and set out if you knew a star—or any other sign, for that matter—would lead you to Jesus? Could you summon such a Gospel patience, such a determined discipleship, such a long obedience in the same direction as they?
What star is this that beams so bright? Did they have any clue at all?
Did they ever doubt what it meant? Where it was leading them? Did they ever have a notion that they being guided by God—or were they just chasing after stars? Did they ever feel like giving up? Turning around? Walking away? Do you?
And when they got there, what then? Did they have any clue what they would see or what to do about it? Have you ever thought about what you’d see if you arrived at the place the Christ child lay?
A what about Herod? What was he after? All his questions to the Magi—what was behind them? Wasn’t Herod himself Lord and Messiah, sitting comfortably in the warmth of his palace—the chosen and anointed one of God? Can there ever be two Messiahs or two Lords?
And what was it about King Herod that the Magi distrusted? What was it that tipped them off? Were they guided by God to distrust Herod? If you were in the Magi’s shoes, what would you do? How would you have reacted to Herod? Would you play for Herod or would you leave by another route?
Another way to ask the same question is, who is it you trust? When it comes down to it, whose commands do you follow? Whose instruction do you keep? The commands and ways of earthly powers? Or is your allegiance given to the ways of God, not to the rulers of the earth?
Right now, these days, who is it you play for? When it comes down to it, whose way do you give yourself to? Herod’s or God’s? And how do you know?
What did Mary do when the Magi showed up? What did she think was happening? What did she make of their strange gifts—gold, frankincense, and myrrh? Did she know what they meant? The good and the bad of it? The life and the death they symbolized? How could she?
And the Magi—what happened to them when they saw the Christ child Matthew tells us they worshipped, but what was that like—did it all change them? And how?
And for that matter, how was God changed when Jesus was born? Have you ever thought about it that way? What was it God had to learn about being human? Did becoming Jesus soften God’s heart? Did God now finally understand what this human life is like? How hard it is? How complicated things get? How wonderful and dangerous, beautiful and difficult it is?
What did God learn about us that first Christmas day?
These are the Epiphany questions I have.
And what now? Here? 2,000 years later? What about you? What do you see?
What is it you want to see? What is it you need revealed to you? Is it hope or love or light? Peace or joy, or something else, like courage or forgiveness—or Christ?
What do you need help seeing?
How will you find our Epiphany way? How will you be guided by God?
That question the Magi asked, Where is the One born King of the Jews?—can that be a question you keep asking God to give you an answer for? Can you practice giving yourselves over to God’s guidance? Stars or no stars?
How far would you go to see God? Would you walk down a few flights of stairs to be with Him? Or down a few blocks? Would you walk farther than that—a few miles maybe? Would you walk to Waynesboro? Maybe even Verona?
Would you chase after the brightest star in the sky if you knew it would lead you to Him, even if it meant walking 600 miles to a place completely foreign to you? Would you go if God was there?
And when you got to the stable, what then? Would you ask questions or would you simply worship?
These are the Epiphany questions I have.
What if it’s that we don’t need to travel at all? What if it’s that Christ is born right here? Nearby? Right now and right here? Among us? Could it be that’s what Epiphany asks of us—that we wake up to Jesus right where we are, and just as we are? Did you ever think to ask God to come close to you when you had no idea how to come close to Him?
Could it be that it’s not Jesus who has to be found by us, but the other way around? That it’s we who have to be found by Jesus? Could it be that How far will You go to see God? is the wrong question? Could it be that the right question, the question at the heart of Epiphany, is really, How far will God go to see You? Don’t you think He would go to the great ends of the cosmos to find you? Do you know that in Jesus Christ, He has already?
What if all we’ve ever had to do is stop and let God catch up to us? But are you willing to do that? Am I?
Could you and I ask God for the strength to let Him catch up to us?
Wouldn’t that be an unexpected Epiphany?
What about you? What do you see? What is it you want to see?
These are the Epiphany questions I have.
All praises to the One who made it all and finds it beautiful! Alleluia! Amen.