Fairhaven Sermon 1-5-2024

As I was thinking this week about the journey of the Magi to go and worship Jesus, I realized something that I think is kind of ironic. We are more mobile than human beings have ever been in history. And yet we, at least Protestants, have largely moved away from the idea of pilgrimage, from doing pilgrimages. And pilgrimage is such a significant aspect of religious practice for billions of people.

It has been for thousands and thousands of years. And it's quite a simple thing. It's not the same as tourism, first of all. It's traveling for a spiritual purpose, to be changed, to encounter God in a new way by taking a sacred journey.

And the effort of the journey, meanwhile, you know, how difficult it is, the time you have to spend away and so on, that is, of course, just as important as the place where you get. The journey is, in many ways, the point. So Muslims are required at least once in their lives to make what's called the Hajj to Mecca. This is a very specific pilgrimage.

You do specific things when you get there. And every single year, that sees over two million people converge at once in that desert city of Mecca. Early Christians, too, loved to go on pilgrimages. Beginning just a few centuries after the ascension of Jesus, many would travel to the Holy Land.

Most Christians were not in that region anymore, so if they wanted to see where Jesus was coming from, they had to go. And whenever that was too difficult of a journey in these days before trains and before roads and planes, there were many more local pilgrimage routes around the world. Most would link together, let's say, important monasteries or churches in a country. They would end at some sacred site or object.

There's still lots of these in France and Ireland and Germany. One of the most important routes a lot of people still travel today, I know a couple people who have, is the Camino de Santiago, or the Way of St. James. It's a long path across the north of France and Spain, and it ends at the burial place of the Apostle James, Jesus' brother.

The trip I took to England with Stormy this summer was intentionally a pilgrimage, too. We traveled in the footsteps of the Westleys, the early Methodists, for a spiritual purpose, to be inspired by it, to be renewed by the things that God did in those places. There's a power that seems to rest in holy places. I think that I really am changed in some way by having stood in Westley's pulpit in Bristol, or by praying in his personal prayer closet in his London house.

There's something about that that works on your spirit. Nonetheless, for whatever reason, relatively few contemporary Christians ever really make a pilgrimage, you know, near or far. But I think it's clear from the epiphany, that is, the encounter of the Magi this morning with the child Jesus, that pilgrimage is one of the earliest spiritual acts we see in the New Testament. The Magi know that there's something holy to be seen, to be experienced, that God is calling them towards, and so they go seek it out.

The Magi, who by the way are not Jews, they're certainly not Christians in any way we'd recognize it, they end up being the first Christian pilgrims. I mean, I suppose you could make a case for the shepherds, but they didn't even have to leave their own zip code, right? The Magi go. And the Magi are something of a combination between priests, scientists, and astrologers. They're part of a religion called Zoroastrianism, which is centered in Persia, now Iran.

And they know the created world inside and out, especially the stars and the planets. Their faith is very focused on the movement of the stars and the planets. And they've noticed something new in the heavens. A star over the land of Judea.

And so they pack up their caravans to travel across great rivers, empty deserts, hundreds of miles of dangerous wilderness to go and see the one whose birth is signaled by the sign in the sky. To my read of Matthew here, it's unclear whether they're looking for the newborn king of the Jews because they know these prophecies of the coming Jewish Messiah, or just because a star has risen over the homeland of the Jews and that means there's a king to be born. But regardless of what background they're coming from, they know that it's important enough to go see for themselves. And so these people, who are again not Jews, not even from the same corner of the world, they're traveling hundreds of miles.

This is no small journey. Somehow get it in the way that the reigning king of the Jews, Herod, along with many of the people in Jerusalem, don't. They don't see the importance. They are troubled by this star.

And the Magi eventually arrive in Judea after their long quest, and they're asking around about where specifically they might find this newborn king. You know, the star's over Judea. Where do we go from here? And Herod hears about this and he's completely caught off guard. Apparently he's been too focused on his own concerns to notice the brand new star that has risen over his little kingdom.

More evidently is he particularly familiar with the promises of his own religion, because after all, he doesn't need a savior. He's doing pretty good. So why would he be waiting for the coming of the Messiah, except as a potential threat? He doesn't notice because he doesn't care. Instead, he has to call in the religious experts.

He has to call in the scribes, the chief priests, and asks them, Hey, where is the Messiah supposed to be born anyway? He doesn't know. And they cite him, the prophet Micah, that's who Matthew is referring to here, who hundreds of years before pointed to the little town of Bethlehem and says, You, Bethlehem, land of Judah, who by no means are you least among the rulers of Judah, because from you will come one who governs, who will shepherd my people Israel. So Herod himself sends for the Magi. He calls them to come to him because he knows they'll find the child whom he then plans to kill as a challenger to his throne.

And Herod ends up being here kind of the opposite of a pilgrim, if such a thing is possible. He's too incurious about God's work to even notice the star, first of all. And then he's too fearful to even go see this threatening toddler by himself. He sends other people.

He directs the Magi to Bethlehem using the information from his scribes, and he'll stay safe in his palace while others do his dirty work. Thank you very much. But the Magi do go to Bethlehem, and they do make it to Jesus. And they bow down before this child.

They offer gold and frankincense and myrrh, these gifts of incredible value. And they honor him. They're deeply aware of his importance, his power. They don't understand any of it yet.

But since God has come to them in a dream of warning, they don't go back to Herod. They travel home a different direction. They avoid Herod and his plot. And they have accomplished what they set out to do when they left Persia.

Nothing more than to go see and honor this child, who's not going to remember any of this, of course, to offer him some of their own wealth, to experience the joy and the glory of his presence because they just know that he is special. Jesus is worth traveling to see, even as they return home with nothing tangible. They didn't take anything with them, only a memory, only the reality that they've been transformed in some way because of what they have seen. Jesus is worth the pilgrimage for them.

And here, I think, is where the prophet Isaiah comes in our other reading, in the beautiful prophecy of chapter 60 this morning, where he's speaking to Jerusalem, a metaphor for all God's people. Isaiah says, Arise, shine, your light has come. The Lord's glory has shone upon you. Though darkness covers the earth and gloom the nations, the Lord will shine upon you.

God's glory will appear over you. Nations will come to your light and kings to your dawning radiance. And Isaiah gives us, like Matthew does, this image of all the peoples of the earth being drawn in by Jesus, by the star, by the vision of God's salvation poured out into the darkness and the gloom of the world. The Magi perceived that light thousands of miles over the western horizon and went to go touch the glory of God, to feel the sunlight of God on their skin for themselves.

They had to be there. What God is doing in the coming of Jesus has an attraction to it. It has a power, a magnetism that goes out in the world and pulls people in. It's a lighthouse over stormy seas.

God is calling people to God's self. The coming of salvation, the promise of a new thing causes the world to respond, to stream toward it just as the Magi do. Mary doesn't have to advertise Jesus. She doesn't have to tell anybody who he is.

She doesn't have to sell his importance to the people around her. She doesn't have to tell the Magi a thing about him when they come. It doesn't seem like she does. His arrival into the world causes a disturbance that those who are paying attention notice.

They go themselves. They see. Notice there's an interplay here in Isaiah where the light is talked about both as God's glory but also as yours. Arise, shine, your light has come.

The Lord's glory has shined upon you. It's come to us. We're given it. This light of hope, of promise in Jesus that then through us spreads out further as the light catches.

The light has shined upon you and then light shines from you. It's a light that's not generated in us but reflected by us, that belongs to us. The good news shines from us and is attractive to those who notice it. It causes them to want to see the source of it for themselves.

And so I wonder if this Christmas season you have been able to perceive and receive that light for yourself. Our annual journey through Advent, through Christmastide, this lead up to Christmas Eve is something of a pilgrimage after all, right? It's a trek through time, through scripture, of anticipation that ends with us meeting the child Jesus once more, drawn to him in that star over Bethlehem. And if you, like King Herod, have found yourself too caught up in your own business to notice the star, there's still time to notice what God has done, coming to bring light to all the nations. Look up.

The power that drew the magi in is still at work on our hearts without a doubt. This is so noticeable every Christmas season. Why do you think that Christmas still has an unbreakable grip on our totally post-Christian culture? Think about how weird it is that you can hear ancient hymns over the radio and in the mall one month a year. Think about how strange that is.

But the star still calls. Why do you think it is that people who don't set foot in a church any other time of year find themselves in the pews on Christmas Eve ready to hold up the candle during silent night? We've drawn close to Jesus once more during this season in a special way. Hearing the promises of the angels, the song of Mary, remembering the priceless gifts the magi brought him, our light has come. Will you let it shine upon you? Will you take it home with you, into the world with you, that people will see God's radiance in your radiance? Because I am sure that when the magi got home, people knew that something had happened.

Christ's glory has come, his glory cutting through the darkness and the gloom that so often blankets our world. So can you return from this Christmas pilgrimage, transformed and changed like the magi, having seen the face of God in Bethlehem? May it be so in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.